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01.  Introduction

So much of our lives are spent waiting, pining after some future outcome that will solve a present discontentment, burden, or injustice. We wait. We cry out. We simmer with frustrations. We yearn. We hope. We wait. This suspension and anticipation between here and there, now and then, keeps our prayer lives taut.

Daily, we wait in mundane ways. We stand in lines at the grocery store, sit on a metro or in traffic, or stare at a screen for a response to a text or an email.

I am waiting too for what feels monumental: a job, a romantic partner, a miracle for my parents’ housing situation, political reconciliation in our country, an end to the war in Ukraine, a lasting peace between Israel and Palestine, an end to hunger and poverty, and so, so much more.

From the mundane to the monumental, it appears as though we spend the entirety of our lives waiting for something.

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02.  Waiting in Advent

Once a year, Christians are invited to reenact waiting for an ultimate and transcendent hope—the arrival of a savior. The wait is for both the birth of Jesus Christ in a manger in Bethlehem, and because we know where the story goes, the wait is also for the second coming of Christ. For a little over three weeks, Advent is an opportunity to reflect on the posture of how we wait and an invitation to practice waiting well.

Henri Nouwen’s reflections on Advent includes several recommendations for the way we ought to wait. Looking to Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary as models, he writes that Christians ought to wait actively, patiently, open-endedly, hopefully, and communally. We do so with an attitude of promise and alertness, a kind of “nurturing the moment.”

Over the last few years, I have tried to adopt Nouwen’s recommendations for how to wait well. In doing so, there are two things I have learned about Advent. The first is that we are invited to feel many different types of emotions while we wait, especially during Advent. Second, we wait with others.

Like for many people, my experience of the Christmas season does not merely evoke the warmth of hot chocolate, the glow of lights, or the excitement of gifts given and received. The season is also layered with past traumas and unfulfilled promises, making the gold plastic tinsel of Christmas appear false and lacking. I have often desired something more from the season to meet these inner complexities. So, when I first learned about Advent’s somber, darkened hues of yearning and waiting, I was relieved.

Advent holds space for both somber and joyful emotions, because it is a season about the world’s groaning and waitingfor something more. Advent is the ultimate reminder that we live in the purple daybreak. Simultaneously, we cry out “O come, O come, Emmanuel” and relish in the “Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the newborn King!” We live suspended in the waiting—sometimes concurrently praying for some future outcome and giving thanks for a present resolution

In addition to permitting the heavier emotions surrounding a time of waiting, Advent is also a season that reminds us that we wait together. Nouwen goes on to write:

“The whole meaning of the Christian community lies in offering a space in which we wait for that which we have already seen. Christian community is the place where we keep the flame alive among us and take it seriously, so that it can grow and become stronger in us. In this way we can live with courage, trusting that there is a spiritual power in us that allows us to live in this world without being seduced constantly by despair, lostness, and darkness… Waiting together, nurturing what has already begun, expecting its fulfillment – that is the meaning of marriage, friendship, community, and the Christian life.”

If waiting is an inevitable reality of what it means to be human and Christian, then let us keep alive the flame of hope in a God made incarnate in the dark of night, announced with the gleaming brilliance of angels. Let us wait for the redemption of all things to be made complete with somber awareness and gumption—together.

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03.  For Further Reading

• Henri Nouwen’s Advent essay is also included in Plough’s Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas. This compilation is a great study during Advent.
• Malcom Guite’s Waiting on the Word: A poem a day for Advent, Christmas and Epiphany is another delightful compilation for Advent, which includes a range of poetry from Christian greats and Guite’s own poems.
• Madeleine L’Engle’s A Cry Like a Bell is a collection of poems that cover the entirety of the biblical narrative from “Eve” to “Ephesus.” For Advent, I have read a few poems a day through the entire collection as a creative contemplative practice.

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04.  Suggested Practices

• Take some time to journal and reflect on the following questions: what are you waiting for? How are you waiting? And who are you waiting with?
• This Advent season invite a few friends for an Advent gathering. Light a candle (or several) and spend some time sharing about what you are personally waiting for, what others in your life are waiting for, and what the world is waiting for. End by praying together.
• When we are bored and waiting, we often turn to passive activities—like watching TV, scrolling on a phone, or playing a video game—especially during the long winter evenings in Advent. Instead, for one or two evenings a week during the season of Advent, pick a creative activity to practice as you “wait.” It can be something you already know how to do or an entirely new activity—drawing, knitting, water coloring, Legos, writing, etc. Notice how the creative practice affects your attitude and posture towards waiting. And in the spirit of togetherness, invite a friend or two to join you!