Advent I: God With Us
Thinking on Advent and theology
Happy end-of-Saturday to you. I’m at the end of a stretch of days where solitude has shown up at my doorstep by way of my four housemates going out of town for Thanksgiving. It’s been lovely, though I have missed them. I’m letting the short days stretch long, fulfilling holiday shop orders and deep cleaning rooms in slow motion, following the golden light as it moves about my house.
I’m preparing for Advent today. I assembled my Advent candle wreath for the kitchen table (with a fake garland this year for fire hazard reasons) and set out my Plough book of Advent readings. Advent is a peculiar season for us who are not living monastically, isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder if it’s only in the context of the liturgical calendar that I think about what to think about for a season. Is that you, too?
Today, I’m considering how Advent might take shape this year in my mind and heart, and I’m interested in the threads between Advent and theology. A definition of theology I find helpful is “faith seeking understanding,”1 and I see that definition embodied in the practice of Advent. To observe Advent is to participate in the faith-filled wait for Christ’s coming – the symbolic wait of the Israelites in exile before the birth of Jesus, but also the very real, contemporary wait for his return, when “everything sad will become untrue.”2 This is an act of belief. And, for those who seek to understand, a trail is made through the prophecies, a sign in the star of Bethlehem. If you don’t slow down you might miss it, but he has made himself plain for those who want to seek and find.
I’ve listened to several people question the importance of theology in the Christian life. A long time ago, an old housemate said, “isn’t theology just a diversion, when we have Scripture and the indwelling Spirit?” Another loved one says, “Isn’t theology getting us in the weeds, not keeping the main thing the main thing?” And they are correct, in part. Theology is hollow and worthless without its object of devotion. So are many of the fixtures around Christian living – our practices, our music, our writings. And the church calendar, with its observances and celebrations, also rings empty like a clanging cymbal without Love.
But I think theology is important for those questions that rise up within as we follow Jesus – not necessarily the surface-level questions, but the deeper ones. And the deeper ones, I’ve discovered, often have much to do with God’s positioning, his whereabouts. Is God with me when I’m tempted to cross a boundary? Is he below me, or do I really regard him as above me and yield to him? Is God around me as I go into a place that feels dark, or when I am home alone for a night? Is God absent from the horrific violence that’s happened over the past few weeks in the world? Is he present to me in my private sorrows?
Is God with me?
Theology doesn’t answer every question, nor does it replace worship or prayer, but I think it has the potential to aid devotion in a profound way. C. S. Lewis said of his own life: “I tend to find the doctrinal books often more helpful in devotion than the devotional books, and I rather suspect that the same experience may await others. I believe that many who find that ‘nothing happens’ when they sit down, or kneel down, to a book of devotion, would find that the heart sings unbidden while they are working their way through a tough bit of theology with a pipe in their teeth and a pencil in their hand.”3
The question of God’s' whereabouts comes to the forefront especially in this season of Advent that’s upon us, and Isaiah’s prophecy makes it plain: Immanuel, God with us. This is what I want all to know – that God came down to be with us. And I want to know it deeper, for myself, and live out of that center.
I’ll be spending some time here on Substack this Advent season, once a week with some thoughts on the varying theologies that Advent can offer us, and perhaps a bit of art making as I think on these things. And, of course, a collection of beauty for observing the season. If I get my ducks in a row, I’ll send a guide of good resources, books, songs, and art to help you dig into the theology of Advent.
Be well, friends. Thank you for being here. And happy first Sunday of Advent. :) Do you observe Advent? How does that observance shift for you over the years? Do let me know in the comments – I’d love to hear.
Or, fides quaerens intellectum, penned by Saint Anselm of Canterbury and then championed by Saint Augustine, in support of theological inquiry for a robust Christian life.
J. R. R. Tolkien, The Return of the King. Here’s the quote in full because I love it:
“Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What's happened to the world?"
“A great Shadow has departed," said Gandalf, and then he laughed and the sound was like music, or like water in a parched land; and as he listened the thought came to Sam that he had not heard laughter, the pure sound of merriment, for days upon days without count.”
C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics.