As we enter the Advent season today, I have been pondering just how gentleness ties into Advent. The words normally associated with this reflective yet celebratory season are: hope, peace, love, and joy. Advent is known as a season of hope and expectation, where the long-awaited comes to pass. But where does gentleness begin? I’m not necessarily thinking of the rush of the season, though it does come to mind. All the shopping, prepping, wrapping, and decorating. I myself am full of these plans, and I know their possibility to make this season an ungentle one. But that is a whole other blog post.
Where does gentleness begin? Is it in the things we buy, package, and donate? The wishes we try to fulfill? Is it in the hours we give to rehearsals and practices? Is it in the presents tucked away with all the hopes for them bringing joy when opened? Is it in the moments when we let the To Do list fall by the wayside, when we just sit in the glow of the lights with the warmth of our dear ones in our arms? Is it in our voice lifted still with cries for mercy and justice? What about the moments spent alone in contemplation over the year as it makes ready to be consigned to oblivion?
I believe that this is where gentleness starts. In any of it. In all of it. In the small moments, the little things, in the corners of our hearts that we open up, in the generosity that we show, and in the quiet moments that we are mindful of and cherish. When we open ourselves up to let these beautiful things out, we let beauty and gentleness in as well. It refills us, reinforces us, and reminds us that we are dealing with very human hearts in a very humanly-flawed world.
Yesterday, I watched my daughter run up to a charity worker in front of one of the entrances to our local mall. You know, one of the people ringing the bell. Now, I don’t agree with this particular charity’s stance on several things that are important to me, but I know that these people are trying their best and sacrificing comfort and warmth to do what they hope is good. Therefore, I will never begrudge them. The lady ringing the bell smiled and bent near my daughter, offering the bell to her to ring with one hand and then holding out the other to shake her free hand lovingly. I saw gentleness in that moment, in their bright “Merry Christmases”, and in their holding the doors for people coming out and going into the mall. It’s moments like these.
The world, as we look at it today, is hard and harsh and frightening; it batters and beats and berates and bruises those who most need its mercy. We take that in day after day after day and fight not to let it make us hard in turn. We fight back with love and mercy, grace and gentleness. As Winn Collier points out, gentleness is subversive; gentleness is preposterous.
God comes to us with a preposterous gentleness that will always be a scandal in this rough-and-tumble world. And God invites us to join the scandalous subterfuge. Advent, these watchful days, asks us to see [sic] the world anew, to watch the alternative possibilities. Advent invites us to become gentle people again (Collier).
As we enter the Advent season today, let us join that “scandalous subterfuge”. Let’s hold fast to gentleness, refuse to let it be torn or pushed from our hands or hearts, speak it, and spread it. Let’s check ourselves, give ourselves a 5-second timeout, before we speak or react ungently to our loved ones. Let’s be willing to let some things go in order to hold on to what is most important. Let’s be willing to bend down, offer our bell and our hand, and give a smile to someone.
Whether you celebrate (or even like) Christmas or not, let’s embrace that preposterous gentleness. That gentleness that will undercut the dark and hard and the harsh and remind us to send our spirits out into the world among our fellow men. We only get one shot at this life, dear ones. Let’s make it a good one, starting with today.
“The Gentleness of Advent” by Winn Collier – http://winncollier.com/gentle_advent/