I’ve had a hard time with Advent this year.

With all that’s going on in the world, it’s been hard for me to celebrate the expectation of the birth of the Messiah. I don’t think I’m alone. In a unique show of unity, Protestant, Orthodox, Armenian, and Catholic Palestinian Christian leaders in Bethlehem decided to cancel all festivities this year in light of the ongoing events in Israel and Gaza. The site of the Messiah’s birth isn’t celebrating it this year.

Yet the problems are not just Hamas’s horrific violence against Israel and the loss of innocent lives on all sides. We face our share of issues here in the USA. As we move towards a presidential election in 2024, the Republican front-runner currently faces more than 90 indictments for business fraud, his actions to overturn the 2020 election results, and the January 6^th assault on the Capitol. Even more remarkable is this candidate has the overwhelming support of white evangelical Christians—a candidate who amps up the dictatorial and violent rhetoric with each passing week. The more he ratchets up the vitriol and lies, the stronger his support—even among Christians. As one Republican congressman reportedly said when pressured to back Trump’s false stolen election claims, “the things we do for Orange Jesus.” The evangelical support is even more shocking when you consider there are other viable candidates who share conservative values and respect the Constitution and the rule of law. God have mercy on us.

Some Christians turn to the Scriptures to justify their support for Trump. “God can use flawed people to do God’s will.” “Trump is like Cyrus, who God calls ‘my messiah.’” True. The Bible has many examples of God using foreign powers and rulers to enact judgment on God’s people. Personally, I don’t buy this assessment of our former president, primarily because America is not “God’s people.” But to those who do hold this view, I say this: read a bit further in your Bibles. Those “flawed,” “evil,” and “worldly” forces that God uses always get what’s coming to them. Always. Without fail.

Enough of my rant. Back to Advent.

The celebration of Advent dates back to at least the 5^th century CE. St. Gregory of Tours is the first to mention the season and its related fasts. Around the 16^th century in Germany, they began placing four candles in an Advent wreath, an Adventskranz, four weeks before Christmas. One candle is lit each Sunday. Each candle has a theme:

• Week 1: Hope, the prophecy candle
• Week 2: Peace, the Bethlehem candle
• Week 3: Joy, the shepherd’s candle
• Week 4: Love, the angel’s candle

All worthy themes to prepare our minds for Christ’s birth.

I think my struggle with Advent this year is with how we approach it. We know the end of the story how Advent culminates on December 25^th with a celebration of Jesus’s birth. As such, hope becomes expectation, peace becomes serenity, joy becomes celebration, and love is an outpouring of thankfulness. Our Advent observances seem like children eagerly awaiting Santa Claus loaded with presents to place under our trees.

However, a closer look at the Gospel birth narratives reveals a darker background to the story. According to the Gospel of Luke, Mary and Joseph are forced by imperial decree to travel to Joseph’s hometown to register for taxation (Luke 2:1). Taxes in the Roman empire could be oppressive. Some estimates put the Roman tax burden on conquered peoples at 50-60%. Much like today, the privileged classes paid virtually no taxes, if any. Joseph and Mary make this trip not for reasons of hope, peace, joy, or love. The trip was a reminder of imperial oppression and economic hardship.

The trip from Nazareth to Bethlehem is more than 90 miles. Assuming they took the route through the Jordan Valley, the leg from Jericho to Jerusalem is 13 miles with an elevation change of around 2,400 ft. It’s not an easy journey for anyone, let alone a pregnant woman. The physical challenges of the trip were no doubt overshadowed by the out-of-wedlock pregnancy. While we know the Gospel backstory, there’s no indication that anyone else knew of the miraculous circumstances of Mary’s pregnancy, nor would they have likely believed it.

The Gospel narratives of Jesus’s birth tell the story of a birth under Roman impression and shameful social circumstances. Both Mary’s and Zechariah’s songs speak of deliverance from enemies and oppression. While today we might think of that as deliverance from sin, the Gospels reflect deliverance from tangible, real-world forces. The celebration and joy in both poems leave the reader feeling that, FINALLY, God is fulfilling what he prophesied to our ancestors!

Advent in the Midst of…

When I focus on the darker background of Jesus’s birth, the significance of Advent shifts. The four themes take on the sense of “in the midst of.” Advent reminds us that God provides us with hope in the midst of uncertainty, peace in the midst of war, joy in the midst of despair, and love in the midst of hate. Despite what we see around us, Advent reinforces God’s promises. God will make things right. As the psalmist says, “Be still, and know that I am God, I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth” (Ps 46:10, NRSV).

At the same time, Advent admonishes us to embody “in the midst of” practices. As God’s people, we are called to provide hope to those who are fearful, peace to those who war against us, joy to those in despair, and love to those who hate us. In short, Advent should convict us to lift up the name of God properly through our actions.

I’d encourage you to revisit the birth narratives and the Advent themes through the eyes of the oppressed rather than the oppressor and the weak rather than the powerful. In doing so, perhaps we can see the importance of this season in the midst of all that is going wrong in our world. This lens on Advent encourages me to reiterate the final prayer in the book of Revelation: “Come, Lord Jesus!”