The Once & Future Advent
Therefore, every scribe instructed in the kingdom of heaven, is like to a man that is a householder, who bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old.1
A decade ago, my life halted. I had returned from West Africa a year earlier in unstable health and I wasn’t recovering as expected. The hold on my nursing career seemed permanent. The last of my siblings had gotten married, so I was alone with my parents in the family home. I didn’t even own a car. A tiny temporary job provided a slender income. As the end of the year approached, I felt none of the anticipation I once shared with my siblings. But on the morning of December 1st, a familiar object, battered and shabby, appeared on the table, its 24 matchbox drawers stuffed with mysterious items. My newly-wed sibling and her husband had filled my Advent calendar.
Growing up in the local Baptist Sunday School, my siblings and I were often the odd ones out. Our cast-off clothes were at least a decade out of fashion. Most of our toys came to us used or as the cheaper knock-off version. But every December, our Advent calendars were filled. The personalized calendar drawers had been made by our mother’s German friend, and every year, she provided candy to fill them. There were the traditional marzipan, chocolates wrapped in fairy-tale pictured paper, small packets of chewy Gummi bears, foil-wrapped Icy squares, a sweet fizzy powder to put in water, a soft fruit-flavoured candy that completely dissolved in the mouth, and always something odd and new - one year, it was little coiled licorice rattlesnakes. We were well into our teen years when the annual packages from Germany finally stopped due to the cost of shipping.
In my childhood, Advent meant anticipation. Despite our parents’ meagre finances, Christmas was always abundant. The Advent calendars were a prelude to the gifts of Christmas Day. Coming from a Baptist background in which the only liturgical traditions were Christmas and Easter, it took a long time for me to grasp that Advent had a deeper meaning than counting the days to Christmas. Nevertheless, I had been right in thinking that Advent was a promise of abundance.
The Ancient Fast
The earliest formal record of Advent practices in the Christian church is of a forty day fast before the Nativity (Christmas) celebration in the 5th century. By the time the record makes note of it, the tradition seems well established. The fast began as preparation for those being baptized at Epiphany, the 12th day of Christmas and a day which commemorates, depending on the church tradition, both the Adoration of the Magi and the Baptism of Jesus Christ. Fasting in preparation for baptism is a very early church tradition. The mid-2nd century Christian Justin Martyr, in his appeal addressed to Caesar Antonius Pius (86-161 A.D.), wrote:
As many as are persuaded and believe that what we teach and say is true, and undertake to be able to live accordingly, are instructed to pray and to entreat God with fasting, for the remission of their sins that are past, we praying and fasting with them. Then they are brought by us where there is water, and are regenerated in the same manner in which we were ourselves regenerated. For, in the name of God, the Father and Lord of the universe, and of our Saviour Jesus Christ, and of the Holy Spirit, they then receive the washing with water.2
If a forty day liturgical fast sounds familiar but not in association with Christmas, the fast of Lent before Easter also began in baptismal preparation. The early Church clearly saw significance in baptizing converts on the days commemorating either Jesus’ baptism or Jesus’ resurrection. The forty days themselves have multiple precedents in the Bible: forty days and nights of rain in the Flood; the Israelites wandering forty years in the wilderness; and Jesus fasting for forty days in the wilderness after his baptism and before his temptation.3 Eventually, the baptismal fast for Epiphany became wholly associated with the Nativity. In Church liturgy, Advent, from the Latin adventus meaning coming or arrival, is a liturgical remembrance, using Old Testament Messianic prophecies and Gospel records of the events leading to the birth of Jesus Christ.
In the sturdily independent Baptist4 atmosphere of my formative years, the above church history would have been dismissed as superstitious nonsense. The Bible, it would be argued, said nothing about what time of year converts should be baptized and the conversion accounts in the book of Acts would be held as proof positive that baptism could be done anytime, anywhere with water enough to immerse somebody. Easter was observed because it was related to Passover in the Bible, and Christmas was tolerated, although individuals with a Puritanical bent always suggested the gaudy holiday was idolatrous.5
A Song of Already & Not Yet
The dear elderly pastor who taught in my adolescence loved Christmas. To him, the Incarnation of Jesus Christ - God becoming human and dwelling among us - was second in importance only to the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. As primary church musicians in the tiny church, my siblings and I searched out new carols to play on piano, violin, and organ for the annual Christmas concerts. We had accumulated several different hymnbooks and even a battered copy of the Oxford Book of Carols. In the Hope hymnal, we discovered a hymn set to the 17th century French tune, Picardy:6
The words were paraphrased in 1864 by Gerard Moultrie, from the ancient Liturgy of St. James:
Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
And with fear and trembling stand;
Ponder nothing earthly minded,
For, with blessing in His hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth,
Our full homage to demand.King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood.
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heav'nly food.Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the pow'rs of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.At His feet the six-winged seraph,
Cherubim with sleepless eye,
Veil their faces to the presence,
As with ceaseless voice they cry,
Alleluia, Alleluia,
Alleluia, Lord Most High!7
In the Syriac rite of the Eastern church, the ancient hymn is sung during the Eucharist.8 In the Byzantine rite of the Eastern church, the hymn is used on Holy Saturday, the day of waiting between the remembrance of the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ on Good Friday and the celebration of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ on Easter Sunday. In the Western church, the hymn is used in the celebration of Advent. When I first read the hymn, I immediately noticed its multiple Biblical references.
As a typical know-it-all teen, I had become somewhat cynical about Christmas carols. So many of them seemed inaccurate about the Nativity. The First Noel has the shepherds seeing the star. We Three Kings calls the Magi kings.9 To what exactly was Joy to the World even referring?10 Let All Mortal Flesh was refreshingly different, but I still had questions. In the theme of the last two verses, I recognized a combination of two different scenes from the Bible. One was from Luke’s account of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem:
‘And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”’ [Luke 2:13-14, KJV]
The second scene I recognized was from the book of Revelation, a book Baptists invariably associated with the Second Coming of Jesus Christ:
And the four beasts had each of them six wings about him; and they were full of eyes within: and they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come…
And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. [Revelation 4:8; 5:11-12, KJV]
As I pondered the hymn each December, I realized it was conveying a concept I had been taught about Biblical prophecy, the Already and the Not Yet. The hymn was envisioning both Jesus’ Incarnation, which had already happened, and Jesus’ Second Coming, which has not yet happened. When I learned that the liturgical Advent is both about remembering the Incarnation of Christ, and of longing for his return, I understood. Christians believe in an eternal God, who is always I AM, standing outside of time.11 The promises of such a God were, and are, and are to come.
The Chosen Fast
When I started writing this two weeks ago, I thought it could be part of an Advent series. But then I was called to fill in at work for a bereaved colleague, and then it was important I prepare gifts for my young relatives, who as eagerly anticipate Christmas as I once did, and then, and then… As an adult, I’ve often wanted to strip away distractions during Advent in order to meditate on the spiritual meaning of this season. While driving to and from work these past two weeks, I’ve thought about the apparent contradiction between my childhood Advent calendar and the ancient solemn Christian fast. I remembered the words of God, as reported by the prophet Isaiah:
“Will the fast I choose be like this:
A day for a person to deny himself,
to bow his head like a reed,
and to spread out sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast
and a day acceptable to the Lord?
Isn’t this the fast I choose:
To break the chains of wickedness,
to untie the ropes of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free,
and to tear off every yoke?” [58:5-6, CSB]
I first observed a liturgical Advent when, as a nursing student, I attended a non-denominational inner city church. I watched and listened in detached interest as each Advent Sunday, a different church member gave a reading and lit one of the candles. Then the pastor asked me if I would do the reading for the third Sunday of Advent. Having been raised in a tradition where women never read Scripture during the Sunday service, I was uncertain. But those familiar with Advent will know the third reading is the Magnificat, the song of the Virgin Mary. I couldn’t say it was wrong for one woman to read what another woman first sang. In the song, Mary exults over how God is turning the world upside down, humbling the powerful, and lifting up the powerless:12
“…He hath shewed strength with his arm; he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.
He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away…” [Luke 1:46-55, KJV]
The dear friend who gave us those wonderful Advent calendars enriched my life far longer than the candies lasted. Simple acts of kindness in a childhood and youth that had many dark experiences left me with a lasting sense of wondering gratitude. Such a sense now extends throughout my life, as I experience joy mingled with the natural pain of life, centred around the Advent gift of the Incarnation of Jesus Christ:
who, existing in the form of God,
did not consider equality with God
as something to be exploited.
Instead he emptied himself
by assuming the form of a servant,
taking on the likeness of humanity.
And when he had come as a man,
he humbled himself by becoming obedient
to the point of death—
even to death on a cross.
For this reason God highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee will bow—
in heaven and on earth
and under the earth—
and every tongue will confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. [Philippians 2:5-11, CSB]
In the Christian faith, the Second Coming of Jesus Christ brings not just the Last Judgement, but also the Resurrection and the New Heaven and Earth, where all that is evil ceases and all that is good remains. The Advent anticipation I felt in childhood did not, as so many well-intentioned adults suggested in sermon and essay on the problem of materialism in Christmas, need to be redirected. My hope was always directed towards coming good. It still is.
Matthew 13:52, wording from KJV & Douay-Rheims (1899 American Edition)
Justin Martyr. First Apology. Marcus Dods, translator. From: The Ante-Nicene Christian Library. Roberts & Donaldson, eds. 1885. Edinburgh: T & T Clarke.
a) The Flood and baptism are connected in I Peter 3:20-21; b) This is not an exhaustive list, other notable 40s include: Moses on Mount Sinai, the spying expedition to Canaan, King David’s reign, and Elijah in the wilderness. Searching the Bible for all mentions of ‘forty days and nights’ or ‘forty years’ is an interesting rainy day activity.
Canadian Baptist, a tiny minority of affiliated Christians in Canada. In the 2021 census, 53% of Canadians identified as Christian, 1.2% identified as Baptist.
a) For some, the fact that the Council of Nicaea separated the dating of Easter from the dating of Passover, means even Easter is suspect. b) The Puritans, who were not Baptists, infamously banned the celebration of Christmas.
Audio clip performed by author on a 1908 upright grand piano - the slight mechanical background noise is due to the aging piano mechanism.
Liturgy of St. James & Gerard Moultrie, trans. hymns for the living church. 1974. Carol Stream, Illinois: Hope Publishing Company. Note: The text descriptions of Seraph & Cherubim come from Isaiah 6:2-3, Ezekiel 10, and Revelation 4:6-8.
One of the sharpest points of division between all the various Church denominations is the exact meaning of the celebration of the Eucharist. But what all divisons agree on is that this is a command all Christians must follow with the greatest reverence:
‘The Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”’ [I Corinthians 11:23-25, ESV]
Yes, I also heard the old canard, “The Bible doesn’t say there were just three Wise Men [Magi].” But the number of Magi bothered me less than calling them kings; after all, the Bible also doesn’t say there weren’t just three Magi. P. S. I now love We Three Kings, and the equation of the Magi with kings probably comes from the Already & Not Yet Psalm 72: “The kings of Tarshish and of the isles shall bring presents: the kings of Sheba and Seba shall offer gifts.”
The answer is that Joy to the World is also an Advent hymn of the Already & Not Yet.
Exodus 3:13-14: ‘Then Moses asked God, “If I go to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what should I tell them?” God replied to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: I AM has sent me to you.”’
John 8:58: 'Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, before Abraham was, I am.”’
I was reminded of Mary’s triumphant praise when, this past week, the news reported the reopening of Notre Dame in Paris, and I heard the music of Handel’s Hallelujah chorus being sung during the opening Mass. The event was attended by political leaders and wealthy acolytes from around the world, but the words of Handel’s famous chorus are from Revelation:
‘And the seventh angel sounded; and there were great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.’ (11:15, KJV)
I loved hearing the hymn snippet on your old piano!