Using the postmodern/emerging hermeneutic (threatening, I know), I went searching for other voices which seem to grasp pieces of this Advent idea. For as much as it pains me to admit it, the mainline church has lost the sense of longing that is a part of this season. T'aint about eight-pound six-ounce baby Jesus, not even spoken a word yet.
The way I understand Advent is as a dichotomy of hopelessness and true hope; fear and joy; and loss and recovery. It is shaking your fist at God for not finishing what was promised already, yet still believing God will. It is teenage angst coupled with an odd bubblegum bliss. It may be something like this:
Waiting — The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Feeling sorrow
For all the things you had to steal and borrow.
Bring back the days we had before tomorrow
Relapse and then collapse into yourself once more.
Waiting for this life to change seems like it's taking me forever
And I can't hold on. This light is breaking into the day
This life is going to change seems like it's taking me forever
And I can't hold on. This light is breaking into the day
Void I can't fill.
The doctor tells me to relax and stand still
Prescribes me a new pill to quell my anger.
Wish I could make her pull herself up off the floor
Waiting for this life to change seems like it's taking me forever
And I can't hold on. This light is breaking into the day
This life is going to change seems like it's taking me forever
And I can't hold on. This light is breaking into the day
Again, into the day, again
Waiting for this life to change seems like it's taking me forever
And I can't hold on. This light is breaking into the day
This life is going to change seems like it's taking me forever
And I can't hold on. This light is breaking into the day
Take time to contemplate who you are and where you want to go.
Take time to contemplate who you are and where you want to go.
Into the day.
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