Advent is upon us. During these weeks, many people feel a deep yearning to enter into the spirit of this season, in the hope that it may somehow touch and inspire them. But as the season progresses, they begin to feel incapable. People long for quiet but are unable to find peace. They want to be stirred by the Advent and Christmas songs, but the lyrics and the melodies sound hollow. Church people want to be transformed by the liturgies and lessons in Advent services, but remain unmoved. The words fall on deaf ears.
Usually, this is through no fault of their own. That is to say, it is not intentional on their part. But it does suggest a need for conscious preparation, which we do not always find so easy. Our hearts get weighed down by the worries of this life, to borrow language from our gospel lesson, and we miss out what God desires to show us. We need to pause, slow down, and assume a posture of receptivity. We need to let the old and the familiar become the new and the unfamiliar. In short, we need to recapture the wonder of a child.
One way we can do this is to reflect on the objects that begin to appear in our sanctuaries, in our homes, and even in our city streets during this time of year. Later we will have occasion to reflect on the creche, in which we contemplate the babe in the manger with Mary and Joseph. But today, on this First Sunday of Advent, it is appropriate, for reasons that we will soon see, to consider the Advent wreath, which is featured conspicuously today at the front of the church, between the baptismal font and the Lord’s table. Our attention was drawn to it at the start of the service, at the lighting of the first Advent candle.
This is an old and familiar ritual. For centuries it was a tradition on Saturday evenings—the vigil of each Sunday of Advent—for Christian families to sit down around the Advent wreath, to light the appropriate candles, and to recite an Advent lesson.
This is a tradition that we are carrying forward beginning today. But have you ever wondered why a wreath came to be used? Is it a mere external decoration? Or does there lie hidden within it a deeper meaning?
Author Anselm Gruen reminds us that in the ancient world the wreath was a crown of victory. After an athletic contest, there was a ceremony, at which a wreath was placed on the head of the victor. Seen in this light, the Advent wreath is to us a sign of a promise. Our lives will not end in defeat, but in victory. In Jeremiah 29, God promises his people in lonely exile to give them a hope and a future.
The Apostle Paul has this hope for the people to whom he is writing in the first lesson designated for this Lord’s Day. The people there have given so much joy to him that every time he remembers them, he is prompted to give thanks to God for them. He is so fond of them that he prays day and night to God to open a way for him to see them again. He is so concerned that they become all that God wants them to be that he wants to supply whatever is lacking in their faith. To this end he prays that the Lord may make them abound and increase in love for one another, so that they may stand blameless on that day of the Lord’s return.
The wreath is composed of strands of plaited leaves and branches and flowers. The plaiting shows us that our lives will be mended and the sharp and brittle parts smoothed out, as Anselm Gruen so beautifully puts it. Indeed, that is precisely the hope that Paul holds out for the Thessalonians, namely, that in the end they may be whole and complete, able to stand before the Lord unashamed.
Paul makes no mention of a wreath here. But elsewhere in his letters he speaks explicitly about it. To the people at Corinth, he gives instructions about the self-discipline required to live a productive life as a follower of Christ. He reminds them that athletes who compete in the games undergo strict discipline, in order to receive a wreath that will fade with time. But we do it to receive a wreath that will never fade (1 Cor. 9:25). In this connection, the Advent wreath points us to a victory crown that will not decay, but rather will last forever, because God himself will place it on our heads.
Paul is hopeful that he himself will be a recipient, as he writes to Timothy about the crown of righteousness that the Lord will give to him on that day, and not only to him but also to all those who have longed for the Lord’s appearing (2 Tim. 4:8).
Did you catch that? Paul refers to the Lord’s appearing. Here the Advent theme is prominent. Remember that Advent is not only a time of wonder at the gift of Christ to us in past time. It is also a time of anticipation of his return at the end of time. On the one hand, we understand the season to be the time before Christmas. Christ has arrived. On the other hand, we understand the season to be the time before the end of the age and the beginning of the new. Christ will arrive. The First Sunday of Advent does not look back, but rather forward. It does not look back at the Christ child in the manger, but forward at Christ the King coming in the clouds of heaven.
In our gospel lesson for today, Jesus is talking with his disciples about that time. He draws on familiar Old Testament images to portray the end of human history. There will be great signs and portents in the skies to point to the revelation of the Son of Man, and the manifestation of his rule to all. The old order of things will come to an end. There will be turmoil, which here and elsewhere is often symbolized in the Bible by the roaring of the sea and the waves. There will be instability, symbolized in the Bible by the shaking of the heavens. For some this will be an overwhelming time. There will be distress among the nations. People will faint with fear. All this is prelude to the coming of the Son of Man in a cloud with power and great glory.
The intent of Advent is to stir up anticipation for the return of Christ, as we have already mentioned. But if we are honest, these images that Jesus uses to describe the end cause us to shudder. But let us remember the larger point of the lesson. The return of Jesus Christ in great power and glory will put an end to all the chaos. When we see the signs of things changing, Jesus says, we can take comfort in knowing that our redemption is near. In place of fear comes hope.
During Advent, then, we all wait expectantly for this appearing of Jesus Christ, as we see here and have already seen in Paul’s letters.
The image of the wreath is not limited to Paul’s letters. It is found elsewhere in the New Testament. When we turn to the First Peter, we encounter it there too. Peter declares that when the Chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the crown of glory that will never fade away (1 Pet. 5:4). By Chief Shepherd Peter means, of course, Jesus Christ.
Here too the Advent wreath makes us aware of the coming of Jesus. It is the Shepherd who meets us at the end, the Shepherd who has already made us to lie down in green pastures and led us besides the still waters. And he will crown us with a wreath of glory that will not fade, as we have already noted. Anselm Gruen interprets this glory to mean the original beauty in which God made each of us. When Jesus Christ returns, his glory will shine in its true radiance. Now we are children of God, and it has not yet been revealed what we will be, but we know that when he appears, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is (1 John 3:2).
James brings us back to the present, to the struggles that we face in our daily lives, when he pronounces a blessing on those who endure temptation, because, having stood the test, they will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him (1:12).
The crown of life is promised to us, provided that we stand firm and commit ourselves to loving God in the here and now.
Jesus is aware of the challenges here. Waiting for a promised future can be hard. It can happen that out of our frustration at the long delay, out of our disappointed expectations, we give up on waiting. Author and retired Calvin Seminary professor Neal Plantinga points out that when we our discouraged, a number of different responses are possible. Some succumb to sloth; they check out, mindlessly going about their daily routines, not caring anymore. Others fall prey to cynicism; they’ve decided that the cure for disappointment is not to hope any longer. Still others try to control the narrative of their lives, while others numb the pain in whatever way they can.
It is not Jesus’ desire for his followers that they drown their sorrows in drink, that they let their everyday worries consume them. Jesus exhorts his followers to be alert always. Doug Bratt, pastor of Silver Spring Christian Reformed Church in Silver Springs, Maryland, speaks in this connection about what he calls active waiting. By this he means doing things that are meaningful while we wait, particularly in regard to waiting for Christ’s return. He points out that Jesus himself spends a great deal of time, especially near the end of his earthly ministry, talking about how his followers should actively wait for him to come back for them. Author Mark A. Villano fleshes out what this looks like in words that he imagines Jesus addressing to his disciples: “As you wait for me, be about the things I’ve told you to be about. Love, care for one another. Be attentive to one another’s needs. Be peacemakers and reconcilers and healers. Be ready to pray and rest in me. Show up for your own life and hold on. Your redemption is near.”
In the same spirit, in Revelation, the last book of the Bible, Jesus tells his followers who suffer because of their faith in him to be faithful even unto death. “I will give you the crown of life” (2:10).
Later in Revelation, the 24 elders who stand before the throne of God wear golden wreaths on their heads (4:4). They represent those who did stand firm and therefore received the crown of life.
Interestingly, Jesus himself wears a golden crown: “Then I looked, and there was a white cloud, and seated on the cloud was one like the Son of Man, with a golden crown on his head, and a sharp sickle in his hand!” (14:4). Anselm Gruen remarks here that when Christ lives in us, in virtue our union with him through our baptism, we wear a golden crown with him. The crown make it clear that no one rules over us. We acknowledge only one ruler, namely, Jesus, who makes us truly free. This was a theme we explored last time when we celebrated Christ the King.
Reflecting on objects that appear during this time of year can be a good discipline in our preparation to receive the special blessings in store for us this Advent and Christmas season. We singled out today the Advent wreath. Examining the Advent wreath in light of the biblical texts we considered can strengthen our faith. Our faith has its sight set on a crown. In this faith we trust that we will overcome the obstacles in this life that threaten to defeat us and gain the victory. As the old hymn puts it: “Faith is the victory! Faith is the victory! O glorious victory, that overcomes the world.”
May we be counted among those to whom Jesus says: “Stand up and raise your heads.” For on those heads will one day be placed a crown. Amen.