by Justin Holcomb

What Is Advent?

For many Christians unfamiliar with the liturgical year, there may be some confusion surrounding the meaning of the Advent season. Some people may know that the Advent season focuses on expectation and think that it serves as an anticipation of Christ's birth in the season leading up to Christmas. This is part of the story, but there's more to Advent.

The History of Advent

The word "Advent" is derived from the Latin word adventus, meaning "coming," which is a translation of the Greek word parousia. Scholars believe that during the 4th and 5th centuries in Spain and Gaul, Advent was a season of preparation for the baptism of new Christians at the January feast of Epiphany, the celebration of God's incarnation represented by the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus (Matthew 2:1-2), his baptism in the Jordan River by John the Baptist (John 1:29-33), and his first miracle at Cana (John 2:1-11). During this season of preparation, Christians would spend 40 days in penance, prayer, and fasting to prepare for this celebration; originally, there was little connection between Advent and Christmas.

By the 6th century, however, Roman Christians had tied Advent to the coming of Christ. But the "coming" they had in mind was not Christ's first coming in the manger in Bethlehem, but his second coming in the clouds as the judge of the world. It was not until the Middle Ages that the Advent season was explicitly linked to Christ's first coming at Christmas.

Advent Today

Today, the Advent season, which begins on the Sunday that falls between November 27th and December 3rd, lasts for four Sundays leading up to Christmas. At that time, the new Christian year begins with the twelve-day celebration of Christmastide, which lasts from Christmas Eve until Epiphany on January 6.

[Editor's Note:

For Syriac Orthodox Christians Advent starts this Sunday (Nov. 19). The Church liturgical year started with the Koodosh e'to on Nov 5 when we sanctified the church. On the following Sunday, hoodosh e'to, we dedicated the church to be ready for the arrival of Jesus Christ. From this Sunday till Christmas, we meditate on the most important events recorded in Bible prior to the Christmas. The first of these is the annunciation to Priest Zechariah about the arrival of John the Baptist, forerunner to Messiah. Next week we will recall the annunciation to Virgin Mary. ]

Advent symbolizes the present situation of the church in these "last days" (Acts 2:17, Hebrews 1:2), as God's people wait for the return of Christ in glory to consummate his eternal kingdom. The church is in a similar situation to Israel at the end of the Old Testament: in exile, waiting and hoping in prayerful expectation for the coming of the Messiah. Israel looked back to God's past gracious actions on their behalf in leading them out of Egypt in the Exodus, and on this basis they called for God once again to act for them. In the same way, the church, during Advent, looks back upon Christ's coming in celebration while at the same time looking forward in eager anticipation to the coming of Christ's kingdom when he returns for his people. In this light, the Advent hymn "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" perfectly represents the church's cry during the Advent season:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appears.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

While Israel would have sung the song in expectation of Christ's first coming, the church now sings the song in commemoration of that first coming and in expectation of the second coming in the future.

Advent Liturgy and Practice

To balance the two elements of remembrance and anticipation, the first two Sundays in Advent (through December 16th) look forward to Christ's second coming, and the last two Sundays (December 17th - 24th) look backward to remember Christ's first coming. Over the course of the four weeks, Scripture readings move from passages about Christ's return in judgment, to Old Testament passages about the expectation of the coming Messiah, to New Testament passages about the announcements of Christ's arrival by John the Baptist and the Angels.

While it is difficult to keep in mind in the midst of holiday celebrations, shopping, lights and decorations, and joyful carols, Advent is intended to be a season of fasting, much like Lent, and there are a variety of ways that this time of mourning works itself out in the season. Reflection on the violence and evil in the world cause us to cry out to God to make things right - to put death's dark shadows to flight. Our exile in the present makes us look forward to our future Exodus. And our own sinfulness and need for grace leads us to pray for the Holy Spirit to renew his work in conforming us into the image of Christ.

One catechism describes Advent spirituality beautifully:

"When the Church celebrates the liturgy of Advent each year, she makes present this ancient expectancy of the Messiah, for by sharing in the long preparation for the Savior's first coming, the faithful renew their ardent desire for his second coming. By celebrating the precursor's birth and martyrdom, the Church unites herself to his desire:

'He must increase, but I must decrease.'"

Advent and the Christian Life

While Advent is certainly a time of celebration and anticipation of Christ's birth, it is more than that. It is only in the shadow of Advent that the miracle of Christmas can be fully understood and appreciated; and it is only in the light of Christmas that the Christian life makes any sense. It is between the fulfilled promise of Christ's first coming and the yet-to-be-fulfilled promise of his second coming that Karl Barth penned these words:

"Unfulfilled and fulfilled promise are related to each other, as are dawn and sunrise. Both are promise and in fact the same promise. If anywhere at all, then it is precisely in the light of the coming of Christ that faith has become Advent faith, the expectation of future revelation. But faith knows for whom and for what it is waiting. It is fulfilled faith because it lays hold on the fulfilled promise."

The promise for Israel and the promise for the church is Jesus Christ; he has come, and he will come again. This is the essence of Advent.

About the Author:

Justin Holcomb is a pastor at Mars Hill Church, where he serves as Executive Director of the Resurgence and the Leadership Development department. He is also Adjunct Professor of Theology and Culture at Reformed Theological Seminary and previously taught at the University of Virginia.

Justin wrote On the Grace of God. He and his wife, Lindsey, are the authors of Rid of My Disgrace: Hope and Healing for Victims of Sexual Assault. He is also the editor of Christian Theologies of Scripture: A Comparative Introduction.

by Fr. Stephen Freeman

[Editor's Note:

November 15, marks the beginning of the Nativity Fast (40 days before Christmas) for Eastern Orthodox Church. Jacobite Syriac Orthodox Church recommend fasting for 25 days beginning on December 1. The Universal Syriac Orthodox Church specifies that all believers should practice fasting for 10 days beginning on December 15. This is called 'Yeldho Lent'.

The following article offers some thoughts on the purpose of fasting.]

Fasting is not very alive or well in the Christian world. Much of that world has long lost any living connection with the historical memory of Christian fasting. Without the guidance of Tradition, many modern Christians either do not fast, or constantly seek to re-invent the practice, sometimes with unintended consequences.

There are other segments of Christendom who have tiny remnants of the traditional Christian fast, but in the face of a modern world have reduced the tradition to relatively trivial acts of self-denial.

I read recently (though I cannot remember where) that the rejection of Hesychasm was the source of all heresy. In less technical terms we can say that knowing God in truth, participating in His life, union with Him through humility, prayer, love of enemy and repentance before all and for everything, is the purpose of the Christian life. Hesychasm (Greek Hesychia=Silence) is the name applied to the Orthodox tradition of ceaseless prayer and inner stillness. But ceaseless prayer and inner stillness are incorrectly understood if they are separated from knowledge of God and participation in His life, union with Him through humility, prayer, love of enemy and repentance before all and for everything.

And it is this same path of inner knowledge of God (with all its components) that is the proper context of fasting. If we fast but do not forgive our enemies - our fasting is of no use. If we fast and do not find it drawing us into humility - our fasting is of no use. If our fasting does not make us yet more keenly aware of the fact that we are sinful before all and responsible to all then it is of no benefit. If our fasting does not unite us with the life of God - which is meek and lowly - then it is again of no benefit.

Fasting is not dieting. Fasting is not about keeping a Christian version of kosher. Fasting is about hunger and humility (which is increased as we allow ourselves to become weak). Fasting is about allowing our heart to break.

I have seen greater good accomplished in souls through their failure in the fasting season than in the souls of those who "fasted well." Publicans enter the kingdom of God before Pharisees pretty much every time.

Why do we fast? Perhaps the more germane question is "why do we eat?" Christ quoted Scripture to the evil one and said, "Man does not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God." We eat as though our life depended on it and it does not. We fast because our life depends on the word of God.

I worked for a couple of years as a hospice chaplain. During that time, daily sitting at the side of the beds of dying patients - I learned a little about how we die. It is a medical fact that many people become "anorexic" before death - that is - they cease to want food. Many times family and even doctors become concerned and force food on a patient who will not survive. Interestingly, it was found that patients who became anorexic had less pain than those who, having become anorexic, were forced to take food. (None of this is about the psychological anorexia that afflicts many of our youth. That is a tragedy)

It is as though at death our bodies have a wisdom we have lacked for most of our lives. It knows that what it needs is not food - but something deeper. The soul seeks and hungers for the living God. The body and its pain become a distraction. And thus in God's mercy the distraction is reduced.

Christianity as a religion - as a theoretical system of explanations regarding heaven and hell, reward and punishment - is simply Christianity that has been distorted from its true form. Either we know the living God or we have nothing. Either we eat His flesh and drink His blood or we have no life in us. The rejection of Hesychasm is the source of all heresy.

Why do we fast? We fast so that we may live like a dying man - and that in dying we can be born to eternal life.

By Catherine Marshall

We spent Christmas 1960 at Evergreen Farm in Lincoln, Virginia--the home of my parents. With us were my sister and her husband -- Emmy and Harlow Hoskins -- and their two girls, Lynn and Winifred. It meant a typical family occasion with our three children, Linda, Chester, and Jeffrey, along with Peter John who was then a senior at Yale. Five children can make an old farmhouse ring with the yuletide spirit.

For our Christmas Eve service, Lynn and Linda had prepared an improvised altar before the living room fireplace. Jeffrey and Winifred (the youngest grandchildren) lighted all the candles. Then with all of his family gathered around him, my father read Luke's incomparable account of the first Christmas. There was carol singing, with Chester and Winifred singing a duet, "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," in their high, piping voices. Then my mother, the storyteller of the family, gave us an old favorite, "Why the Chimes Rang." She made us see the ragged little boy creeping up that long cathedral aisle and slipping his gift onto the altar.

Then she said, "You know, I'd like to make a suggestion to the family. The floor underneath the tree in the den is piled high with gifts we're giving to one another. But we're celebrating Christ's birthday, not each other's. This is His time of year. What are we going to give to Jesus?"

The room began to hum with voices, comparing notes. But Mother went on, "Let's think about it for a few moments. Then we'll go around the circle and each of us will tell what gift he will lay on the altar for Christ's birthday."

Chester, age seven, crept close to his father for a whispered consultation. Then he said shyly, "What I'd like to give Jesus this year is not to lose my temper anymore."

Jeffrey, age four, who had been slow in night training, was delightfully specific. "I'll give Him my diapers."

Winifred said softly that she was going to give Jesus good grades in school.

Lynn's was, "To be a better father, which means a gift of more patience."

And so it went... on around the group. Peter John's was short but significant. "What I want to give to Christ is a more dedicated life." I was to remember that statement five years later at the moment of his ordination into the Presbyterian ministry when he stood so straight and so tall and answered so resoundingly, "I do so believe.... I do so promise...." Yet at Christmas time, 1960, the ministry was probably the last thing he expected to get into.

Then it was my father's turn. "I certainly don't want to inject too solemn a note into this," he said, "but somehow I know that this is the last Christmas I'll be sitting in this room with my family gathered around me like this."

We gasped and protested, but he would not be stopped. "No, I so much want to say this. I've had a most wonderful life. Long, long ago I gave my life to Christ. Though I've tried to serve Him, I've failed Him often. But He has blessed me with great riches -- especially my family. I want to say this while you're all here. I may not have another chance. Even after I go on into the next life, I'll still be with you. And, of course, I'll be waiting for each one of you there."

There was love in his brown eyes -- and tears in ours. No one said anything for a moment. Time seemed to stand still in the quiet room. Firelight and candlelight played on the children's faces as they looked at their grandfather, trying to grasp what he was saying. The fragrance of balsam and cedar was in the air. The old windowpanes reflected back the red glow of Christmas lights.

Father did leave this world four months later -- on May first. His passing was like a benediction. It happened one afternoon as he sat quietly in a chair in the little village post office talking to some of his friends. His heart just stopped beating. That Christmas Eve he had known with a strange sureness that the time was close.

Every time I think of Father now, I can see that scene in the living room -- like a jewel of a moment set in the ordinary moments that make up our days. For that brief time, real values came clearly into focus: Father's gratitude for life; Mother's strong faith; my husband's quiet strength; my son's inner yearning momentarily shining through blurred youthful ambitions; the eager faces of children groping toward understanding and truth; the reality of the love of God as our thoughts focused on Him whose birth we were commemorating.

It was my most memorable Christmas.

Family Moment

Think of all the memories we've had as a family during Christmas through the years. What memories do you count as the best? Why?

How could this family make our memories even sweeter than they already are?

An Advent Prayer

Father God, show us how precious each family member is this season. Teach us to number our days so that we might honor you and love others. Give us anew appreciation of how unique and beloved each of us is to the others. Amid the things that bother us the most, let us not lose sight that you have made this family what it is. Help us rest in your wonderful plan that we should go through life together for all of the days we have breath. We're grateful, and our hearts are filled with love for you and each other. Amen.

[ Editor's Note:

Catherine Marshall (1914 - 1983) was a noted Christian writer perhaps best known for her novel Christy.]

Bible Gateway

When you sing this carol from a hymnal, notice that the title of the tune is "St. Louis." It's not named for a city or a saint, but for the composer of the music, Lewis H. Redner (born December 15, 1830).

Here's what happened:

In 1865, Phillips Brooks, the famed Boston pastor, visited the Holy Land and stopped in Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus. He was so moved that, returning home, he wrote this hymn for the children in his Sunday school. He handed the words to his organist, Lewis Redner, asking him to compose the melody. "If it's a good tune," added Brooks, "I'll name it 'St. Lewis' after you." Lewis couldn't come up with a suitable tune until the evening before the song was to be performed; but it was an instant hit, and Brooks did name it for the organist, changing the spelling to avoid embarrassing him.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above,
While mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wondering love.
O morning stars together, proclaim the holy birth,
And praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth.

How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is giv'n;
So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His heav'n.
No ear may his His coming, but in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in.

O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in, be born to us today.
We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!

Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king.
--Matthew 2:1

by Charles Henrickson

When [Jesus] had said these things, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. When he drew near to Bethphage and Bethany, at the mount that is called Olivet, he sent two of the disciples, saying, "Go into the village in front of you, where on entering you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever yet sat. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?' you shall say this: 'The Lord has need of it.'"

So those who were sent went away and found it just as he had told them. And as they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, "Why are you untying the colt?" And they said, "The Lord has need of it."

And they brought it to Jesus, and throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. And as he rode along, they spread their cloaks on the road.

As he was drawing near--already on the way down the Mount of Olives--the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying,

"Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!"

And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples."

He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out."
- Luke 19:28-40 (ESV)

"The King Who Comes in the Name of the Lord" (Luke 19:38)

Today is the first day in a brand-new church year. That's because today is the First Sunday in Advent. The church year begins with the season of Advent, the four Sundays leading up to Christmas, along with their weekdays.

Of course, for the world--that is, for the secularized pop culture around us--there is no Advent. For them, there is only Christmas, and their Christmas started way back around--oh, I think it now starts around the day after Halloween. And the world's version of Christmas has very little to do anymore with the real Christmas. It's an artificial Christmas, a pale imitation of the real thing. Their Christmas doesn't need either the Christ or the Mass, which is what the real "Christ Mass" is all about. No, the world's Christmas is about shopping for the latest electronic gadgets and listening to "Santa Baby" on the radio. Not much about the Jesus baby. Almost nothing about him coming in the flesh to be the Savior of the world. And nothing at all about going to church to celebrate his birth on the Feast of Christmas. But the world has this other Christmas out there, the artificial Christmas, which just dominates the airwaves and the pop culture around us. Now I have nothing against wanting a hippopotamus for Christmas--I have nothing against chipmunks--but don't mistake that for the real Christmas. And don't let that stuff get in the way of your Advent, either.

The world's Christmas has so overshadowed Advent that hardly anyone even knows what Advent is, let alone observes it. But that is not the case in the church. We want to let Advent be Advent. This season has its own distinctive emphases, and if we just rushed by Advent and went straight into Christmas, we would be the poorer for it. Let Advent be Advent. And then, yes, by all means, do up Christmas big-time when it finally arrives on Christmas Eve and lasts for the twelve days of Christmas. But first, let's have a proper Advent.

So that is what we'll do. Now Advent is a time of preparation for Christmas, so there will be some hints around us here in church that Christmas is on the way. We may put up a tree and some of the decorations, but we'll try to hold something back for Christmas itself--hold back on the lights, for instance. And speaking of lights, every year at this time we do the Advent wreath, lighting one candle per week for the four weeks till we come to Christmas, when we light the large white "Christ candle." So these things tell us Christmas is on the way. But it's not here yet.

We do a few things differently during Advent. You noticed this morning that we did not sing the Gloria in Excelsis, which we normally do. That's because the Gloria in Excelsis is the song of the Christmas angels, sung at Jesus' birth, and it's not Christmas yet. You'll also notice we have different color paraments on the altar. Some churches use blue, which is the color of hope. During Advent we look forward with hope to Christ's coming at Christmas, as well as to his coming again at the last day. An even more traditional color for Advent is purple, also called violet. Purple indicates that Advent is a penitential season, kind of like a little Lent, a time for sincere repentance for our sins as we await the Lord's coming. As we'll see over the next couple of weeks, John the Baptist plays a prominent role in this Advent call to repentance, preparing the way of the Lord before him.

So this is Advent, a special season unto its own, worthy of our due attention. And today is the First Sunday in Advent. Now there's something about this day that may puzzle you. The Holy Gospel for this day--it's the reading about Jesus entering Jerusalem . . . on Palm Sunday?? What's up with that? Why a Holy Week reading on the First Sunday in Advent?

Well, consider what the word "Advent" means. It means "coming." Advent is the season in which we anticipate Christ's coming and prepare for it. Advent is the season when we see Christ coming to us and among us, and we praise him for it--which is exactly what happens in the Palm Sunday reading, isn't it? Jesus is coming to Jerusalem, as the King, as the Messiah sent from God, and the people praise him as he draws near: "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" And this is the same Jesus who comes to us and among us now, on this Sunday, in this Advent season, and really, throughout the entire church year. And finally, he will come for us on the last day. That is why this reading about the riding--Jesus riding into Jerusalem--works as the Gospel for the First Sunday in Advent and the first day in the whole church year. Because it presents Jesus to us as "The King Who Comes in the Name of the Lord."

Why do we need a king who comes to us like this? Because he comes in the name of the Lord. God has sent this king to us. He comes from heaven to establish the kingdom of heaven here on earth. That is what Jesus' ministry was all about, to bring the kingdom and the blessings of heaven among us, God's gracious reign and rule. In his preaching, Jesus announces the arrival of this kingdom. "Repent," he says, "for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Jesus calls us to recognize our sinfulness, to see how we've blown it, how we have not lived according to God's good design. In his teaching, Jesus describes the surpassing worth of the kingdom of heaven, how wonderful it is. He expounds the true meaning of God's law, our Creator's design for his human creatures to live. Jesus calls disciples to come and follow him, to learn from him in a personal relationship. We see the kingdom of heaven in Jesus' mighty works, as he brings the blessings of God's end-time kingdom in ahead of time: restoring creation, healing sick bodies and minds, repelling and casting out the works of Satan, the enemy who tempts and afflicts us. This is the kind of king Jesus is. This is what he comes to do. And this why we, like the crowds at Jerusalem, hail him as our king.

And so this is who is entering Jerusalem on that donkey's colt. The king. "The King who comes in the name of the Lord." In fact, this Jesus is God's own Son, come from his Father in heaven. And he is riding into Jerusalem to do the biggest, most kingly job of them all. And in the most surprising way. This king rides into Jerusalem to suffer and die. But this is how the kingdom comes--the end-time-blessing kingdom, the kingdom of God and of heaven, the kingdom of grace now and future glory--this is how the kingdom comes, namely, through Jesus Christ coming into Jerusalem to suffer and die. For you. Yes, for you. "Behold, your king is coming to you; righteous and having salvation."

We need this king, don't we? We don't have a righteousness of our own that will work before God. Our sins preclude and prevent that. As we prayed in the Collect, we need to be "rescued from the threatening perils of our sins and saved by the Lord's mighty deliverance." And this is precisely the salvation that King Jesus brings when he rides into town.

Your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation. "Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before you." Christ is the only one who lives the righteous life that God requires. And yet he dies the death of sinners, in our place. His righteousness gets applied to our account. God's justice is satisfied by Christ's death on the cross, for this is the very Son of God who sheds his blood for us. Only this king, Jesus Christ, can do the righteousness-and-justice job that is sufficient to save us.

And it does. Christ's resurrection proves it. Your baptism into Christ connects you to him. And so you too will rise, with Christ. Trust in him for everlasting life.

"Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!" Sounds a lot like what we sing in the Communion liturgy, doesn't it? "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." And it's no accident. We sing these words at that point in the service because Christ himself is about to come to us--with his salvation, for the forgiveness of our sins--as he gives us his very Body and Blood in the Sacrament. Yes, there is an Advent going on here today. Christ our King comes to us here in the Divine Service, righteous and having salvation.

And so how do we respond? Like the multitude at Jerusalem, we praise him. We praise our king who comes to us. "Blessed"--yes, blessed--"is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!" Worship is the natural response when you see this wonderful king coming in our midst. We praise him with our hymns. We praise him with our voices. The praise comes from our heart, where the Holy Spirit is working through the Word to stir us up to faith and praise. Heartfelt praise and worship is the rightful response for such a great king.

We praise our king for his coming at Christmas. We praise him for his coming into Jerusalem to suffer and die and rise again on our behalf. We praise him for his coming among us here, bestowing his blessings in Word and Sacrament. And we praise him, knowing that he will come again, at the end, to raise us up to eternal life.

It's Advent. This is the season of Christ's coming. We anticipate it with expectation and hope. We prepare for his coming with a repentance that will change how we live. We see Christ coming to us and among us with the eyes of faith. And therefore we praise him. "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!"

Dear friends, this is what is happening here this Advent: Preparation. Hope. Repentance. Praise. Let this Advent be a proper Advent for you. Don't let the hustle and bustle of Christmas cause you to miss out on the special blessings of the Advent season. This year take some time to let Advent do its work in you.