Advent, December 1: Clashing Calendars

I have enjoyed Christmas for nearly as long as I can remember. Seriously. I still remember the Christmas where I got my American Girls Samantha doll, and I think I was 4 at the time. But Advent seemed to show up later. It may not have actually happened this way, but it felt like like one year, the baptist church were my family attended pulled a big wreath out of nowhere, stuck four candles in it, said that each of the candles stood for something and started lighting one each Sunday. Was it three purple candles and one pink? Three pinks and one purple? Where they Faith, Hope, Love, and Joy? Or were they Hope, Peace, Faith, and Joy?

Advent wreaths, and really the whole Advent season, never really seemed to “take” for me. For one thing, the wreaths didn’t seem very prevalent. Even my Lawley grandparents, who had a birthday cake for Jesus and read the Christmas story from Luke every Christmas Eve, did not have an Advent wreath. For another, Advent wreaths seemed incredibly outnumbered by other wreaths…and lights and songs and movies and TV specials. And what is more, quite a few of these other things seemed older and more well-established than the whole four candles thing. Part of me still wonders: did Christians get jealous of menorahs?

But considering it now, I think that one of the biggest reasons why Advent has never taken for me is a clash of calendars. The four church candles follow Advent as a liturgical season which moves around a bit each year. When you count by Sundays, the length of Advent varies. But when you buy an Advent calendar in a store—and these can include treats from chocolates to Legos—they always start on December 1. Even church Advent devotionals sometimes count this way to: from 1 to 24. Both of these calendars in turn clash with the way that stores start selling Christmas items in October, and even with the way I try to hold off Christmas songs and decorations until Thanksgiving dinner is off of the table. When you can count down to something four different ways, the thrill and significance of the countdown gets confused.

So this year, when I have more time at home than I’ve ever had at Christmas before and more time to think, I’m just making a decision. We’re doing Advent starting on December 1. I like consistency; I still think those wreaths are a little bit odd, and I find maintaining two different calendars a bit like being in a room where two different songs are playing. (I hate that.) But I don’t oppose intentional mixing, and we’re also doing Advent with an admitted mixture of the spiritual and secular. Like the Lego and chocolate calendars, we’re counting down every day, not just Sundays. But like the church calendar, we’re going to use this countdown to pay attention to things outside of ourselves, too: big ideas like hope and love and, especially this year, patience. We’ll see how it goes…