It the Christian tradition, the season before Christmas is called “Advent,” meaning “to come.” It is season of preparation, and a time to wait.

Regardless of your spiritual tradition, this time of year is indeed a time of waiting. Waiting for the Light, for presents, for the arrival of loved ones. Waiting to see the smile on your child’s face when gifts are opened. Waiting to kindle the candles of Hanukkah, or for the return of the Light at Solstice. Waiting to pass on traditions at Kwanzaa, or for the arrival of baby at Christmas.

But all too often this Advent season turns into a season not of waiting, but of rushing. Rushing to the store, to make cookies, to clean house, to wrap, to rehearse,  to dress-up, to attend.

I love a little hustle and bustle. It’s fun!  But a little holiday bustle can go a long way.  Over all, I like the holiday season to be peaceful and intentional. I want it to be ripe with meaning and lush with memories. 

Over the years I’ve developed a trick to help keep our holidays happy, but not hustling; joyful and peaceful. You guessed it, it’s a list! Each year I write out the *8Things we must do this holiday season. Writing a list of the most important moments empowers me to say “NO” to the rest. Every time my eager-beaver mind draws me to another craft project or an additional adorable downtown Christmas event, I return to my list. If that new thing threatens my ability to make one of my essentials happen, I say goodbye. I wait for another year. After the season is over, I tack my list to my calendar for the next December — when we’ll keep some items, and trade out some others — adapting our traditions each year as our household alters.

Here’s my *8Things for a Peaceful Holiday  list for this year. 

1. Make a meaningful gift for the immediate family members. (Hello Burb.com!)
2. Bake Paul’s favorite Christmas cookie.
3. Sing with the Copenhagen Gospel Singers, and the Jr. Gospel Singers.
4. Bake muffins once a week to get Catie out of bed through the dark season.
5. Light the Advent wreath. Pass on the story.
6. Dole out the Christmas picture books at the breakfast table, one each day through Advent.
7. Show my parents the hyggliet bits of a Danish Jule.
8. Decorate the tree and set a pretty table Christmas Eve.

What’s NOT on the list:stay up too late making a zillion kinds of cookies; attend every cool event in town; make an elaborate meal and collapse with a migraine before I can eat it; stress out trying to finish handmade gifts at the last minute (tho I will buy handmade as much as possible!); spend more than I can afford on presents; stress out trying to get everyone dressed and out the door to a zillion church services.

What’s on your *8Things for a Peaceful Holiday list? What do you need to do to make your holiday season meaningful? What would make it something to savor? And just as importantly, what can you leave off the list? Do tell us in the comments, or grab a button and play along by leaving your permalink in the list below. Thanks for being here, and Happy Advent!

This is cross-posted as my weekly editorial at Blogher. Find all my BlogHer columns here.

“So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and
Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.”

Dar Williams
The Christians and the Pagans

“It’s dark out now, but the light is coming.” This is the message that the Pagan celebration of Winter Solstice (Dec 21st) and the Christian celebration of Christmas (Dec 25th) has in common. As the days grow short, we long for light — both physical and metaphysical, to carry us through the dark season. Advent, which means simply “to come,” is the season that leads up to both the Pagan tradition of celebrating the return of the Life-Giver, the Sun; and the Christian tradition of celebrating the birth of the Son, Jesus, who in religious parlance is often referred to as “the light of the world.” The Advent wreath, which has it’s finger in both tradition’s pies, is a simple practice that brings warmth, meaning and light to the holiday season. And the good news is, it’s easy to practice!

The Advent Wreath at it’s roots is an ancient Pagan rite. In the Pagan era people would bring their cart wheels indoors during the Winter, to preserve this important tool of survival from the wet and the cold. The wheels were hung from the ceiling and used and impromptu chandeliers. As the days grew short and the nights lengthened, people would deck the wheels out with evergreens and candles and spin them as an incantation to the Powers, asking that the light be returned. And what do you know? As the longest night of the Winter Solstice tipped the world towards Spring, the days started to lengthen and the light came back!

In the Christian era this practice was adopted by the church. (Most, if not all Christian traditions find their roots in other religions.) A wreath of evergreens is laid on a table (or here in Denmark, hung from the ceiling) and filled with four candles — one for each week of the waiting, or Advent, season. Originally the candles were simply a countdown, one for each of the four Sunday’s preceding Christmas. Now, in liturgical churches the candles are different colors and have different themes. The colors and meanings are not standardized across denominations (e.g. branches) of the Christian church. But generally the colors are purple, rose, and white and the themes are Hope, Love, Joy, and Peace. (For more info, click here.)

You can easily use a wreath to bring attentiveness and meaning into your home this holiday season. Buy a wreath at your local store, and lay it on your table. You might want to put something protective beneath it like a large platter or even just a couple sheets of wax paper, trimmed to fit. Place four candles inside the wreath–or five if you want a separate one to light on Solstice Day or Christmas Day. Gather your family, friends, or your own dear self to the table once a week (usually a Sunday), light the candle are read something meaningful. Here are two inter-faith suggestions that I’ve used as an officiate at both Solstice and Christmas celebrations:

Soon, our nights grow shorter and our days grow long.
We look once more on these earthy symbols–
firelight and evergreens–
and embrace the glow of hope
That Light and Life will return once again to the earth.

——

The people who lived in darkness have seen a great light,
and we have beheld its glory,

Light,
generous from the inside out,
true from start to finish,
full of grace, full of truth.

As each week draws us closer to these celebrations of Light, the light from the wreath literally grows brighter and stronger, chasing the shadows to the corners and providing us with hope. I find it to be a powerful symbol of a universal truth: the light comes into the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.

What will you do to celebrate the Light’s return? Please add your ideas and links to the comments below.

More Magpie Girl about Advent, Solstice, and Christmas:

Sacred Sunday: A Prayer for Solstice and Advent

Beautiful Pagan-y Things: Feast of the Winter Solstice with the Fremont Arts Council

Poetry: Bread of the Winter Solstice

A Winter Soltice Gone Amiss (But Still, a Good Plan)

Today’s Theme: Peaceful Advent

God with Us: Brennan Manning

One of the realities that captures me most at Christmas is the meaning of Emmanuel – “God with us.” I love thinking of God as an infant, God as a fellow traveler, God as our sibling and friend. It’s one of the unique traits of Yahweh — this willingness, even eagerness, to be near to us. In reality, or as a truth-bearing myth, this concept brings me peace.

Our modern mystic, Brennan Manning, captures God-with-us quite wonderfully in one of his Advent pieces. Here it is for you now, a little present from me to you.

Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas
Orbis Books, 2001

“Shipwrecked at the Stable”

Do you think you could contain Niagra Falls in a teacup?

We all know how difficult it is to receive anything from someone who has all the answers, who is completely cool, utterly unafraid, needing nothing and in control of every situation. We feel unnecessary, unrelated to this paragon. So God comes as a newborn baby, giving us a chance to love him, making us feel that we have something to give him.

P.s. I also recommend listening to Bruce Cockburn’s tune Big Circumstance, which references this piece, and Cry of a Tiny Babe, which is one of my favorites. Peace to you this Christmas day.

Did you give some child-at-heart one of the fantastic books from last week’s recs? Go on, there’s still time. And while you’re shopping, keep these lovely tomes in mind:

How Many Miles To Bethlehem?
Kevin Crossly-Holland, author
Peter Malone, illustrator

“I am Mary. Tight as a drum. Round as the lady moon calling out to me.”

When a story starts like that, well, what a wonder! This simple telling of the nativity story progresses across the page like a holy journey. No character is left un-noticed–even the ox and the donkey get a chance to say their piece. Yet the reader is not bogged down in the telling, but rather carried along like the wind-born feather on the opening leaves of this glorious picture book. In our house we have many, many picture books about the birth of Jesus, but How Many Miles To Bethlehem?is one the girls turn to again and again. Even younger children seem to enjoy the rhythmic text and sumptuous illustrations. I myself was profoundly moved by this book, and regularly recite its closing lines at Christmas time:

“We are the angles. We are your secret voices.
Listen!
‘
This baby!’
‘This hope!’
‘This peace!’”

What more is there to say but, “Amen?” Today’s Flavor: Rich and meaningful. Order here.

The Nativity
Julie Vivas, Illustrator

Paul and I fell in love with the artwork of Julie Vivas after her book Wilfrid Gordon McDonald Partridge was read at our seminary graduation. Since then we’ve been snatching up her books like Welcome With Love and Possum Magic. But our favorite by far is Vivas’ cleverly illustrated Nativity. This version of the story pairs the classic tone of the King James text with quirky, imaginative illustrations. The angels wear combat boots! They drink bowls of chai with Mary! And Mary looks really, REALLY enormously pregnant — plus, she kinda has dreads. The just-right knack here is the way vivas pairs old fashioned languaged with updated images to giving us a fresh look at this unchanging tale. And just wait until you see the clever way she illustrates the crowing birth of baby Jesus! We’ve given this book to godsons and aunties, illustrator pals and grandparents. We think you’ll love it too. Flavor: Earthy and transcendent. Order here.

Click on the links in this post to order these items, or any items at Magpie Reviews, and your purchases will help fund this site. Thank you for your support!

Children lighting candles-as-prayer at the peace installation, December 2004. Photograph by My True Self.

Today is the first Sunday of Advent (from the Latin, meaning ‘to wait’). It is the time in which Jesus-y folks everywhere prepare for the arrival of Emmanuel, God-with-Us. (The very concept of that possiblity give me anticipatory chills.)

Last year Advent went by in a flash, and my carefully cultivated discipline of keeping a peaceful, presence-ful schedule evaporated in a sea of poor planning. Ironically, in the midst of packing for an international move, this year we seem to be approaching this season with a more reasonable sense of time. To help this along, the note on my fridge says, “Today will unfold with measured grace,” and I am carefully prioritizing our calendar to help my family sink into this beautiful season.

Tonight we will go to “A Tranquil Advent Evening” at the cathedral on the hill. Though I’ve offered to let them beg off, the girls have both asked to go. They will be content to walk the labyrinth and light the peace candles while Momma –who was raised singing cantatas every year in the school choir — will join in the singing the gregorian chants and the verses of the O Anitphons, inviting the peace of Christ to come and dwell amongst us. My favorite verse, as always, will be verse eight: “O come, Desire of nations, bind in one the hearts of all mankind; bid thou our sad divisions cease, and be thyself our King of Peace. ”

The first time I came to this service on the hill, a profound sensory experience surrounded me, forever altering my experience of the Advent season. Here are my memories from that Advent, three years ago.

____________________________________________________________________________

Last night we went to “A Tranquil Advent Evening” at St. Mark’s Cathedral. The labyrinths were all candlelit, as were the steps to the altar. There was a classical guitar, a bevy of peace candles, perfectly executed Gregorian chants, a stellar harp.

It was raining outside, as it had been all week, and I had become acustomed to the constant drip. But inside the cathedral, I wasn’t prepared for weather’s resplendent sound.

It was as if the wind had decided to roar and sweep only around the cathedral walls. As if the rest of the city had been abandoned by her touch, that she might rally around this one space, this one focal point, her tendrical arms weaving and circling only around the deep, quiet nave.

“I am in a ship,” I thought, behind closed eyes, “below deck, and out of the way in my berth while the crew works to outstand the storm. Or perhaps we are all below, grasping tin mugs of coffee, working with the sway of the sea, hoping for the best, now that we’ve battened down the hatches.

No, it is more like a submarine, submerged and silent and waiting—hoping not to be heard by the enemy, hoping to be found by rescue rather than salvage.

Or perhaps we are Jonah, sloshing amongst fish bones, listening to the sounds of digestion, praying for rapture.”

Then another thought sprang into my consciousness—more true for its unbiddeness, for it’s unlooked for appearance…

“We are in a womb, in this strong walled Mary. We hear, not the howl of a storm, but the pulsing and swish of the stuff of our own making, the life-blood of our own to-be-ing. Hoping. Waiting. Being very still, yet very present.

Are these not the actions of both the mother in pregnancy, and the infant in utero? Mary’s song, the howl and swirl of heartbeats, the rush of blood in the vein. Entombed. Enwombed. Either way, a closing-in before the reality of new life, shown in a crowning head, in the left-behind emptiness or an abandoned tomb.

Advent, to wait. Emmanuel, to come. Oh! What could it be, if we would hold both words in one space– hold them there, between the roof of your mouth and the top of your tongue; soft in between the hollow of your cheeks, holding two truths in the loose-jawed spaciousness.

To Wait. To Come. Do you feel the void between these phrases? It spills out, whispering, “hold steady, be present.”

Breathe in…the sound swirls inside this still, incubating space where words come, waiting to be birthed into a reality. They hover amongst your teeth. Exhale….your breath hanging like a plea. “O come!”

To learn more about my Advent-y world, visit my previous blog Urban Abbess and choose ‘December’ in the archives window, or browse through the ‘rites and rituals’ category. Thank you for reading.

As a child I always asked for books at Christmas time. For some reason they rarely materialized. One year I was given two beautiful hardback books with colored plates: Little Women and Hans Brinker and the Silver Skates. Both are proud members of my book collection to this day.

My own children have a whole basket of holiday reading, from the mundane to the transcendent. This week I’m offering three charming tales sure to be Christmas classic. (Next week: beautifully illustrated nativity tales.)

Little Tree
e.e. cummings
Deborah Kogan Ray, illustrator

“little tree, little silent Christmas tree you are so little, you are more like a flower…”

My husband is a fan of e.e. cummings, and I gave him this beautiful watercolor of a book one Christmas when we were dating. Now we read the gentle story of Little Tree to our own children on quiet nights beside our Christmas tree. It’s out of print now, but you can still find a few gently used copies here. Today’s Flavor: Rhythmic and lovely.

The Year of the Perfect Christmas TreeGloria Houston, author
Barbara Cooney, illustrator

An Appalachian mother and daugther are determiend to retireve the mountain top Christmas tree Papa had earmarked before he left for the war. The Year of the Perfect Christmas Tree is a simple, lovely tale about making do and making merry where a wedding dress becomes angel garb, and a clever mother finds a way to make her daughter’s Christmas wish come true. Well researched to capture the reality of Appalachian life and beautifully illustrated by Barbara Cooney, this can quickly become a Christmas classic in your home. Today’s Flavor: Nostalgic and hopeful.

P.s. Ms. Houston also wrote the fantastic My Great-Aunt Arizona and Ms. Cooney illustrated the wonderful Miss Rumphius.

Red Ranger Came Calling
Berkeley Breathed

Ohmylord, there cannot possibly be a more hilarious and charming tale than Red Ranger Came Calling, the story of a sour little boy and a disinhearted old … Saunder Clos? Berkely Breathed famed creator of Bloom County, Outland, and Opus, travels back to his childhood haunts on Vashon Island to illustrate a cheeky tale that’s sure to delight. Santa is down in the dumps and “visitors not recieved with zesty jolliness at the moment.” But by-gum, the Red Ranger of Mars is going up to his house to find out what happened to his “Official Buck Tweed Two-Speed Crime-Stopper Star-Hoper Bicycle.” What he finds there…well, I don’t want to give it all away. Suffice it to say that this comically illustrated book is a sure fire hit in our high-drama household. Today’s Flavor: Firey and fun.

Click on the links in this post to order these items, or any items at Magpie Reviews, and your purchases will help fund this site. Thank you for your support!