Advent begins the church year with our happiest season. Hope is alive, anticipation is keen, and the world around us puts on a festival of lights, music, and storytelling.

Advent is our annual season for longing and waiting. Sometimes the thing the parish staff most longs for is the end of the holydays and all that extra work! Let’s consider truthfully what it is we are waiting for this year.

At this point, some of us might like a respite from Apocalypse. After all, it’s Advent now—isn’t this the season for Mary mild calmly awaiting her child? Only in carols and in the lore of culture, as it turns out.

“The Arrival of the Son of Man will take place in times like Noah’s. Before the great flood everyone was carrying on as usual, having a good time right up to the day Noah boarded the ark. They knew nothing—until the flood hit and swept everything away.

Before my father died, my mom promised him she would take the entire family, 13 total, to Italy to visit relatives in Milan, the culture of Florence, the majesty of Rome, and most important, our family roots in Alberobello in the southern region of Puglia.

We knew eventually it would happen again, but we never knew exactly when. When we moved into our bungalow we soon discovered that most of the basements on our block would flood whenever the rains fell too quickly—including ours. And so we put everything up on shelves and pallets and prayed for mild weather and light rainfall.

It’s 1:30, you just had a delicious turkey and swiss on rye from the deli, and now you’re sitting in an afternoon meeting where a speaker with a voice just above a whisper is giving a presentation with the lights low and the topic dry. Someone could triple dare you to stay awake, and odds are you’d lose.

Called together to worship in the house of God, we ask the Lord's pardon.

Focus on the journey, not on the destination. Joy is found not finishing an activity, but doing it.