In this season of Advent, we are in our own in-between space

Advent is the season of waiting for Jesus to be born. Christians today are in their own Advent as they wait for the Messiah to return.

Advent, in many senses, is a dark season of patience in the face of mystery. It has a sort of anxious feeling to it because as we dramatically enter the season, we are unsure of what is to come. Surely, we know the nativity story, and we know that Jesus the Messiah will be born, and so simply using the narrative in the Bible alone may not be suitable enough to conjure of the feelings of Advent.

But we are also in our own Advent as we await our Savior to return, not knowing when or how or even what form our Savior will take. In that space, we can truly anticipate the unexpected, because Jesus has yet to return. And for many of us, the present time is very challenging and the future is bleak even. During this season, I especially am feeling the need for a savior, for joy, and for hope.

Complicating our waiting for a savior is not just the uncertain future, but also, that Americans seem to jump the gun a little bit and celebrate Christmas even before Advent starts. Mennonite pastor and author Joanna Harader in her Expecting Emmanuel calls it “a kind of relentless cheerfulness” that is “imposed on us.” “The jaunty music on the radio, the persistent holiday lights, the bright colors in the store displays.” It’s hard to hold all of that apparent joy in the face of fascism in the U.S., so if you aren’t feeling the season, I get that too.

For my part, I cling to joy wherever I can find it, so I’m not necessarily put off by the holiday spectacles, and rather, quite enjoy them. I enjoy them so much that I start playing Christmas music on November 1. I love cutting down the Christmas tree and decorating the house. I even like the Christmas displays at Lowes and Costco. In this season, I cling to the manufactured joy as much as I can, and maybe this season more than most. As the spectacular Karen Carpenter sang, “the logs on the fire, fill me with desire.” Yes, I desire true and lasting joy in a season of grief and darkness. I anticipate my Savior’s return more acutely than before; I am more familiar with my own frailty because of the present circumstances, which haunt me.

So I come to Advent with great expectation for this coming Emmanuel. I look forward to the familiar songs and Bible passages that have comforted me for years and years. And yet in this real reason of despair, of wondering where God is as fascism looms in the U.S., our comfort can’t exclusively be found in the stories of old, but rather in genuine expectation that Jesus will return.

Many of the stories of liberation in the Bible, both in the Old and New Testament, are written to audiences in captivity, whether it is Babylonian Captivity in the Old Testament or Roman rule in the New Testament. The people receiving these stories are in their own oppression. They are expectantly waiting for their Messiah, and so they find comfort in the stories of God’s liberation of the past, whether it is the Exodus narrative or crucifixion and resurrection narratives. The heartbeat of these people is the promise of God’s liberation and its assurance that it will come again.

The Reign of God and the Victory of Jesus today comfort us in our despair. When we learn from the people in the Bible in their own captivity, who find hope in God’s actions in the past and have faith for them in the future. And so yes, we await God’s return and presence in the world. We await for the impossible to happen again.

But our waiting cannot be idle. It is an active waiting. Because we know what God has done through God’s people, we can act today as we await ultimate liberation. We have the promise of God’s return on our side, so we can engage patiently but also with the urgency of people up against the wall. Like the prophets of old, we must speak against harm caused by the church and state. We need to call evildoers to repentance, like John the Baptist, who by doing so, prepared a way for Jesus. We can bear witness that Good News has arrived for the oppressed and the downtrodden like Mary and the shepherds did. The arrival of Jesus is good news for the afflicted, and while it may seem like bad news for the oppressors, it is a chance for them to transform too.

Our waiting is complemented by what we do now. The best way to wait for God is to act. The truest way to demonstrate our faith is not fear of oppression but in organized action today. Far from hoping the right administration is elected, we can protest wars, organize against climate change, and lobby for income equality, among many other things. We may be told we are being foolish for going against Goliaths who are too great to beat. But our God conquered death and liberated the captives, the impossible can happen.

This season, I hope we can live in a space of anticipation for Christ’s return, and also know that Christ dwells in us and moves to act now in God’s cosmic liberation project. Blessed Advent.