I
learned recently that for some young adults (dubbed the Anxious Generation) at
least, Advent calendars are a source of anxiety at being expected to remember
to open a door / eat a piece of chocolate every day for twenty-four days. This
is no joke, but an expression – and indicator – of the levels of anxiety, over
performance and in relation to simple, daily tasks or habits, the younger
generation live with – and if not for any given member of that cohort, likely
for people they know personally.
This
is a tragedy, because Advent practices are not meant to be burdensome. They are
about building a sense of expectancy – flexing the muscles of hope – not hyper-vigilance.
The Church has been waiting, actively, for Jesus to return for two thousand
years. It is not possible to remain hyper-vigilant for any extended length of
time (let alone millennia) but grace-filled habits train us for healthy lives.
Whereas in Lent we might abstain from chocolate – a simple practice of learning
to say no to immediate self-gratification; simple, but hard in an age addicted
to both dopamine hits and sugar – in Advent we might embrace the discipline of
receiving a gift.
Advent
anxiety prevents us from entering into Advent. For me, the weekend just gone
was a full one, with our parish church patronal festival, marked by the St
Nicholas Fayre on Saturday, two services on Sunday morning, and a Christingle
on Sunday evening. In the need to attend well to these things, I did not need
the added pressure of writing a daily Advent calendar post. And so, I made the
choice not to have to do so. To leave it – this thing I have done every Advent
for twenty years – until tomorrow. To extend grace to myself, just as grace has
been extended to me.
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