Advent – To the Wonder

In some ways, the journey into Advent is a journey into wonder. It begins with the people living in great darkness and ends with the birth of Jesus, the Light of the World. As we look and long for his coming, we turn toward Him in our thoughts, meditations upon Scripture, and songs of the season. We sing, “O Come, O Come Emmanuel.”

Advent begins by watching and waiting for His second coming, and it ends by rehearsing His first coming. It begins with the theme of Judgment Day and ends with a miraculous birth. In some ways, Advent is like a journey from experience back to innocence, from adulthood back to childhood, from tedium to wonder.

Chesterton once suggested that, “we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.” Sin darkens the heart and the eyes. Sadly maturity often means loss, blindness to beauty and wonder, and familiarity with pain and disappointment and struggle and loss.

The aging world looks for power on a throne of Gold, and the God who is greater than all power is fully unveiled in a babe in the manger and a Savior on the cross. Incarnation looks so very weak and common and dull to eyes that have been blinded in the glare of self-centered glory.

During Advent, we admit, confess our blindness and long for the coming of the Light of the World to overcome our darkness. Advent is like a fast of the eyes that prepares us for a feast of the soul (and the senses). As we move toward the feast, we move toward the child. As we move toward the child, we become children. On some level, our secular culture knows this. Secular carols and cartoons and decorations and celebrations focus on children even when they miss the child.

We cannot become children if we miss the child. When Christ Jesus was born in the likeness of men, he redeemed the child and the man. He made a way for us all to be converted and become little children that we might enter the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is not hidden in the clouds atop some high mountain accessible only to the serious sojourner. C.S. Lewis reminded us that it is right around the corner in your uncle’s wardrobe. Jesus says, “The kingdom of God is not coming in ways that can be observed, 21 nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There!’ for behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you” (Luke 17:20-21).

To the eyes of sin-distracted man, the world is opaque to the kingdom, to the glory of God. “We are perishing for want of wonder, not for want of wonders,” says G.K. Chesterton. Jesus tells his followers, “The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!” (Matthew 6:22-23).

Advent is a journey into the light, to the wonder. As we watch and wait, we are tuning our eyes and hearts to Christ, we are becoming children. We are learning to see again. Paul writes, “To the pure all things are pure…” (Titus 1:15). In Christ, we behold the world again with childlike eyes. We begin to see that the trees really do clap their hands, the mountains and the hills really do leap for joy. All of creation is caught up in a doxology of joy to our Creator and King.

The light and decorations and the world around us becomes translucent to the light of God’s love. We might even speak of the deep wonder in the heart of all things. Every tree, every blade of grass, every star in the sky unfolds with glory and wonder untold.

With eyes and ears and a heart transformed in Christ, we no longer see people as trees or as obstacles or as objects of derision, but as light and glory, created for an endless doxology to the king of Kings. As we walk toward the wonder of Christ’s Natal Day, let us behold one another and all creation in the light of His love, and let us praise Him as the children we will be forever.

Image by Susy Morris (used by permission via Creative Commons).