The Gift of Advent

As early as I can remember, I have loved the season of Advent. Every year, the church seemed to transform overnight—evergreens appearing in familiar corners, candles set out with care, paraments shifting from green to purple. And always, the music changed. My father, who was a church choir director, insisted that we hold off on the Christmas carols until Christmas Eve. At the time, I wasn’t sure why—but over the years I’ve come to cherish those Advent hymns, with their longing, their hope, their gentle invitation to watch and wait.

Some of my fondest memories are of the traditions after worship—hot spiced cider warming our hands, homemade cookies passed across fellowship hall tables, conversations lingering a bit longer in the glow of twinkle lights. Yet the ritual that has stayed with me the most happened not at church, but around our kitchen table.

Each week of Advent, we would gather as a family to light the candles on our home Advent wreath. We read a short scripture, sang a verse of a hymn, and one of us children would ask, “Why do we light these candles?” It was a simple liturgy, but one that formed us year after year. We continued the tradition with our own children, and I’ll admit my heart melted a bit when our youngest asked if we could start Advent early this year—just so she could be part of the candle-lighting before heading back to college on Sunday morning.

That, I think, is the gift of Advent. It gently invites us to step out of the hectic holiday rush and into rhythms of presence. Whether here at church or around your own table at home, Advent gives us space to slow down, to breathe deeply, to sing, to listen again to the ancient stories, and to pray as we await the coming of Christ into the world.

My hope for each of you is that this season brings moments of wonder and intention—traditions old and new that help you pay attention, be present, and live in creative anticipation of Emmanuel, God-with-us.

See you in church.

With hope and gratitude,
Pastor Kevin