Breaking the Ornaments

Well, the Christmas tree is up at my house! Like Kate, I am not an Advent purist, and I love walking into a home that smells like fresh Carolina Sapphire pine. Twelve days just aren’t enough. And, like Kate, as I strung lights and hung ornaments, I, too, got a little nostalgic, thinking about another Christmas tree from a few years back.

In early December, 2012, my dad asked if I would help put up the Christmas decorations at his house. My mother had always been in charge of decorations, but by then, her dementia was advancing, and she was no longer able. I begrudgingly consented, but forced my best friend, Emma, to come with.

As we began decorating the tree, we realized that my mom didn’t recognize any of the ornaments which she had been collecting for years. It was painful, and I began to rush through it, throwing ornament after ornament haphazardly on the tree. Finally, Emma pulled me aside and said, “Han, I know this is awful for you, but you need to slow down — you’re breaking the ornaments.”

I’ll be honest, in the moment I didn’t particularly care whether or not I broke those ornaments. But they soon became a bit of a mantra for Emma and me. Any time we notice one another rushing through a painful experience haphazardly, we gently say, “you’re breaking the ornaments.”

Now you’d think that after such a memorable experience, I’d be more self-aware and more prepared for all the emotions that the holiday season can trigger. Yet every Advent, I manage to be caught off guard in one way or another. Does this sound familiar — promising yourself that you’ll do things differently next December, but then the holidays sneak up on you and that Christmas card still doesn’t go out on time?

Every year I strive to be more prepared for the season of preparation. But life gets hectic, and I get distracted, and so every year, on the second Sunday of Advent, there’s John the Baptist, the voice crying out in the wilderness saying, “Hannah! You’re breaking the ornaments!”

OK, so that’s not exactly what John the Baptist says, but the sentiment is the same. Both Emma and John the Baptist had prophetic words, and Advent 2 is all about prophecy. Fans of Greek mythology, the Matrix, or Harry Potter might tell you that a prophet is someone who correctly predicts or foretells the future. And at first glance, it seems like Isaiah and John the Baptist fit the bill today. They both speak of a Messiah who is to come, and we all know that he did, just like they said he would.

But more accurately, a prophet is someone who reveals a hidden truth. It could be truth about a future that has not yet come to pass. But in our scripture and our faith tradition, prophets have revealed truths about who God is and who we are right now, truths that are right in front of us, but truths we are blind to without prophetic insight.

Perhaps one reason we mistake prophets for fortune tellers is that hindsight is always 20/20. How often we hear Old Testament prophets cry out about a sinful generation while the people ignore their words, only discovering their truth when it is too late. And how often we reach adulthood wishing we had listened to the prophetic words or our parents, which we were so quick to dismiss in our youth.

As I decorated my Christmas tree with ornaments that my mother once cherished, I was struck again by Emma’s prophetic warning years ago. Had I not heeded her words back then, I would not be experiencing the grace of fond Christmas memories of my mother today. How could Emma have foreseen that?

The truth is that she probably didn’t. What she knew was that my determination to avoid pain and struggle meant that I wasn’t present to what was right in front of me, and I needed to wake up. She was my own personal John the Baptist.

In today’s Gospel, we find the Israelite leaders unsure what to think about John the Baptist and his words of wisdom. The Pharisees and Sadducees have always believed that they were born into the right religion, and that being part of Abraham’s lineage is all they need to be righteous and justified.

But here comes a scruffy guy in need of a bath with an uncanny understanding of the scriptures calling them vipers and telling them prepare for “the kingdom of heaven” and to “bear fruit worthy of repentance.” Sure, he’s telling them that the Messiah is coming soon, but he’s also telling them to wake up to what’s right in front of them, because if they can’t recognize the injustice in the world now, how will they hear the radical message of Christ when he comes?

Unfortunately, many of the people John preaches to will ignore his words. Even though prophets are one of the oldest and most profound avenues God uses to communicate with us, it is in our nature to ignore them. This is partly because we don’t like it when a mirror is held in front of us, revealing our brokenness. But it’s also because picking out a prophetic voice among the thousands we hear every day can be a nearly impossible task.

Luckily, with each prophetic encounter, our powers of discernment get a little bit stronger. And Advent has a lot to teach us about prophecy, too. Advent is a season of preparation for what is to come, both immediately and at an unexpected hour. But on Advent 2, John the Baptist shows us that the way to prepare is to wake up to what’s in front of us, to be present in the here and now.

Perhaps the here and now is painful this Advent. The holidays can be harsh reminders of things and people we have lost. Or perhaps the here and now feels dull or boring. There are no exciting new projects at work and no trips planned to see family this holiday season.

Or perhaps you’ve done the here and now of this Advent a million times before. You slide easily into a holiday routine and you’re right on schedule for watching every single Hallmark channel Christmas movie by the end of December.

Regardless, I encourage you to be attentive to the here and now this Advent, to listen to the prophetic voices calling you back to the present moment. There is injustice in the world that only the Incarnation of Christ can heal, and God is calling us to open our eyes to it. And there is grace abounding during this season of preparation and God is calling us to notice and to rejoice, because if we don’t, we might break the ornaments. Amen.