Advent has changed a lot since my childhood. I have stubbornly held onto this tradition and insisted that we continue to light the candles every Sunday, during the four weeks before Christmas. As the least religious member of my family, taking on this role feels a bit strange. My determination has very little to do with religion, however. Advent for me is about staying true to a cornerstone of my family's tradition. What was once a time to sing, read scripture and reflect on God's gifts during the past year has become, much to my mother's chagrin, more of a time to goof off, laugh, make often inappropriate jokes, and eat all the seasonal candy we can.
Despite our shift in demeanor, however, there is still something sacred that lingers. Once we settle down and Dad cracks open the old family Bible, everything instantly comes back. Every Advent we've ever had is contained in a few moments as the same scriptures that are read every year are recited once again. We sing as much of the old carols as we can remember, our now adult voices containing echos of the children we once were. We discuss the same questions and topics, incorporating new answers and perspectives with the simpler ones we remember from childhood.
Tonight, as my brother lit his candle, the Hope candle, the flame from the match illuminated his face. I thought about all the years I have seen him perform that same act, from that same spot at the kitchen table. I wonder how many years we have left with all of us able to be gathered under the same roof. Some year, possibly soon, I will have to give up my grip on Advent, and let our lives follow their courses as new Christmas traditions unfold with new families in new places. I hope I will release it with grace. Until then I hold a childlike anticipation for Christmas and for next week when the next candle will be lit, we will sing the first verse of "O Come All Ye Faithful", and we will continue to do what we do best. Laugh, joke, share, be a family. My family.
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