Sentimentality is a superstructure covering brutality.
--C. G. Jung.
Jung's observation about sentimentality's relationship to brutality rings true when we realize that the connection is idolatry. Sentimentality looks harmless until somebody messes with it. That's when the knives come out. Such a reaction is a sure indication of an idol. When disturbed, sentimentality quickly sours into grievance, resentment, fear, rage, hatred, and violence. How many mass shooters were originally motivated by sentimentality and nostalgia for some lost vision of America?
It is no accident that so much of the culture wars gets focused on how we do December. For some people it appears that their entire ego structure hinges on whether we wish people "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." Not that this is meaningful in itself, but because people have piling so much emotional baggage on a few words. An innocent greeting comes to dredge up a deep feeling that a whole civilization and way of life has been taken away.
Unfortunately, the Church often ends up becoming the lightning rod for this sort of thing. Many people imagine that Christianity is somehow "the reason for the season," and that people's sentimental memories and desires have deep roots in their faith. The culture war becomes a holy war to "save" both America and Christianity. And holy wars are the worst because in them everything is justified.
The Church always sensed December's treacherous terrain, and intentionally placed prior to the celebration of the Nativity a period of preparation designed to neutralize the sentimentality and nostalgia, and keep the focus on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is the season of Advent. I would go so far as to suggest that the degree to which we take Advent seriously is a reliable indicator of the depth and maturity of our faith.
If we look at the Scripture readings traditionally chosen for Advent, we find emphasis on the Hebrew prophets, John the Baptizer, and Mary, along with some of Jesus' most alarming and apocalyptic sayings. It is difficult to get sentimental about any of this, if we are paying attention. We are not likely to find John the Baptizer's words, "You brood of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come!" inscribed on a tree ornament. When Isaiah says "the lion will lie down with the lamb" he's certainly not fondly remembering the 1950's. And Mary's words to the angel, "Let it be to me according to your Word," basically consent to having her whole world turned upside down.
Advent contradicts sentimentality and nostalgia because it looks not to the past but to the future... and not even the future of our desires, fears, and projections, but God's promised future. Advent does not want us to "go back" to restore or recover some lost supposed paradise, but encourages us to look forward in joyful anticipation of when the-world-as-we-know-it will finally exhaust itself in its long disintegration and get replaced by God's emerging Kingdom/Commonwealth. What if we thought of the four Advent candles less as indicators of a looming holiday, and more like Rahab's crimson cord (Joshua 2), signaling to an invading host to come to shatter our walls and change everything?
Remember that Advent is essentially a time of fasting and abstinence, a time to refocus and simplify, to cut down on consumption and eliminate the extraneous and unnecessary. In Advent we let go of the idols to which we cling, beginning with the most powerful and pervasive one: our own egos. We stop feeding our pathologies: our fear, our desire, our anger, our shame, our resentments and grievances, our bitterness and our nostalgia. Advent is a time to wake up, a time to get serious, a time to recognize and admit our complicity in all kinds of evil, a time to turn our lives around.
Because, listen:
God's new world of shalom and justice
is infinitely more wonderful
than whatever little romanticized existence
we are so afraid of losing.
And, while in Advent we wait, we do not wait passively: rather we anticipate and ourselves become the change God brings into the world. We use this time to reflect and express Jesus' life and teachings by witnessing, in ourselves and in our communities, to God's love. This makes us more wildly and widely inclusive, more sharing and generous, more forgiving and accepting, more simple, honest, joyful, and beautiful. Advent makes us more fearless in our love and compassion for all, beginning with the marginalized and suffering, because we know that this is where God is leading us.
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