Desire of Nations, Come

We'd crack the perforation on the Advent calendar to reveal the day's picture--a Nutcracker, perhaps, or a doll, or maybe a wise man preparing for his journey, depending on that year's theme. Or we'd break another link on our homemade chain made of red and green construction paper. As the chain shrunk, our excitement grew.

We started our Christmas lists in May. A new doll would arrive on the shelves, or a friend would get the latest tape from some band. "Put it on your Christmas list," mom would say.

By Christmas morning, the anticipation overwhelmed us. We reveled in the joy and excitement. Wrapping paper and exclamations flew. "I got a My Little Pony!" Or Cabbage Patch Kid or Debby Gibson tape or whatever it was we'd been anticipating for six months.

(Of course, Christmas infused each gift with magic. My sister and I rejoiced over the toothbrushes in our stockings in a way toothbrushes never got rejoiced over the rest of the year.)

Our waiting as Christians doesn't differ much from that of a child waiting for Christmas. We know it's coming. We know it'll be full of joy and family and food (a feast!). And as we near the day, the anticipation grows.

Our waiting as Christians is an active waiting. We look around us and see despair, pain, carnage. "How long, Lord?" we ask. But even as we ask, even as we look toward the day when Christ will come again and set everything right, we act as if our future resurrection has already occurred. In the power of the Holy Spirit, we begin setting things right. We play-act peace on earth and good will toward men.

We know the end of the story, the happily-ever-after, the day when heaven will finally, fully, irrevocably come to earth. The thought of that day makes me giddy.

I think of Mary, belly swelling, as she counted down the days to Christ's arrival. I think of the shepherds and wise men abandoning everything to praise him. I think of that little drummer boy with his incessant banging.

And I think of the end of Mark's gospel, the question hanging in the air, "What will you do with this?"

So, what will you do with this?