Waiting for Christmas to Come

 

There is a saying I heard from time to time when I lived in Alabama – I don’t know that it’s necessarily a Southern phrase, but it’s one I’ve only heard in the South. My roommate would use it, for instance, to describe the thick, sweet evaporated milk that ever so slowly poured out of its can: “Man, this stuff is slow as Christmas!”

 

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear

 

Slow as Christmas? Christmas rarely seems that slow to me these days. With presents to buy, parties to attend, work to be done before the end of the year, travel plans to be made, and all of the other things that go into getting ready for Christmas, the day itself comes all too quickly. But the saying still rings true in the minds of children, for whom Christmas can’t come fast enough. Do you remember those days? The anxious anticipation of seeing grandma’s Christmas tree, eating the cookies mom baked and, of course, opening tons of presents. If only opening two or three Advent calendar doors at a time could make Christmas day come sooner!

 

 

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan’s tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o’er the grave

 

We were on the right track as kids – the Advent season is meant to be a time of expectation and anticipation. However, for too many of us, our eagerness was a little misplaced. While we were not-so-patiently waiting for new toys and good food and fun family traditions, we tended to ignore that which is deserving of our greatest anticipation: the coming of a mighty and gracious Savior.

 

 

 

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

 

Now when the Christmas season rolls around, I often find myself wishing that time would slow down. The Israelites waited thousands of years for the Messiah – and oh how eager they were for his arrival! Mary anticipated the birth of a son for nine months, taking time to praise her faithful God and reflect on His goodness. They waited in hope and faith for the promised Emmanuel (Isaiah 7:14), God with us, and their waiting was not in vain. He was born in a most humble way, and for thirty-three years, God walked on this earth – that in itself is indeed an “inexpressible gift” (2 Corinthians 9:15). The light, hope and deliverance he brought and still freely offers are his most gracious gift to a broken world, yet we still wait for the day when we will be whole in Him.

 

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.

 

The four short weeks of Advent – and the celebration of Christmas itself – aren’t merely intended to be crowded with parties and presents. This time is meant for us to look back at the longing in the hearts of the Israelites and a special young girl so long ago. We also must look around and look ahead, waiting, watching and preparing for the day when God will be with us again – a day much more important than even our most treasured holidays. Along with the apostle Paul, we hear “the whole creation… groaning together in the pains of childbirth” (Romans 8:22), and “in this [earthly] tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling” (2 Corinthians 5:2). Did you catch that? We’re talking about groaning here, which to me implies desperation, an ache coming from a void which can only be filled by one thing. And so we wait expectantly with John, who after receiving the revelation of Jesus Christ wrote – perhaps even pleaded – “Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).

 

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai’s height,
In ancient times did’st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.

 

As we prepare for and celebrate Christmas this year, may we remember the Israelites and taste the lonely exile of a world that is not our home; may we recognize the darkness that surrounds us, and in turn rejoice with Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and the Magi that a great light has come; and may we, with the ardent hope of Paul and John, diligently seek the path that leads us home to Christ. And in the midst of it all, may we slow down long enough to be captivated by the majesty of a tiny baby who was Emmanuel, God with us.

 

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

 

 

 

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Jenilyn Swett spent five years and a total of nine summers serving with YouthWorks in various capacities. God used YouthWorks to shape and influence her in countless ways — she credits her time on staff with introducing her to Chick-Fil-A, all things Southern, the beauty of places like New Orleans and Savannah, and many of her dearest friends. Beyond that, she developed a deep love for the Church. After graduating from seminary,she now serves as the Director of Women’s Ministry at a church in St. Louis, Missouri (where she spent her second YW summer in 2003.)