I was raised in the tradition of Advent calendars, purple cloth, wreaths and candles. Always a little foodie, I could not resist that daily chocolate promise. Still, I remember also being awfully aware of the mystery and anticipation they held - even if my child mind could not fully comprehend what it meant. (Can we, even now?) Along with the moment, I would savor each little piece of chocolate, as an adult might do when taking the bread and wine. It was my own little childlike communion with a God I did not understand.

Over the course of my spiritual journey, I have wandered from liturgical traditions, deeming them ritualistic and void of anything real. Yet somehow, I have found my way back to them in recent years. Life experience, and the way God and I have chosen to relate to each other have put rich meaning to the words and actions penned and exemplified by humans past. Liturgy is poetry, a vague attempt to put words to the most intimate of relationships. Traditions and sacraments - lighting candles, smearing ash, washing with water, sipping wine, breaking bread - did not begin with an intention for ritual, law, or demands. They were born out of an embodied longing to see, taste, and feel the God who first saw, touched, and somehow healed us.  

Liturgy is longing. Liturgy is tangible. Liturgy is art. Liturgy is beautiful. Liturgy creatively touches the mystery of humanity. After all, we belong to a God of earth, blood and dust. 

After all these years, Advent calendars still hold the same sense of mystery and anticipation for me. Perhaps my little mind understood more than I give her credit for. I have found the Christmas season to be more meaningful when I take the time to breathe in the point. Otherwise, December is just dark, frustrating and stressful.

On the First of December, tomorrow also marks the First Sunday of Advent. The first candle is lit. That one little light is a glimmer of hope in what was once darkness; a source of warmth in what has been cold for far too long.

I’m so glad you have decided to follow along. Writers, poets, and artists from all over the nation (and beyond!) have submitted contributions in response to a given set of text. Join us this week as we await the dawn, as we begin to feel the warmth, as we open our eyes to wake and see. May what was stirred up in others also be stirred up in us.

Let us meditate on this prayer together: