This Advent be open for a surprise — an offering
that can transform us into who God wants us to be.
Gradye ParsonsEvery December my father would bundle my brother and me into the station wagon to find a Christmas tree on the Stower farm. There were no fancy pine trees, only hardy, wild, Middle Tennessee evergreens.
We would climb over the fence and proceed to scout out a tree. Not content to just follow Dad, my brother and I would either go off chasing rabbits or start complaining about the cold. Eventually my father would call us over to check out his find — a 7- to 8-foot-tall tree with a more-or-less symmetrical shape. It might have one less-perfect side that was destined for the wall. We would chop down the tree and lash it to the top of the station wagon.
It was a major male-bonding moment.
Once home, my father would take the tree off the car and place it on the patio for our mother to see. This is where it got interesting.
Somewhere between the Stower farm and our house, the tree changed. The tree that looked perfectly fine in the woods now looked misshapen and scrawny. Instead of just one bad side, we were pushed to find one good side. Eventually, the tree would make it into the house, where my mother would supervise the transition from sow’s ear to silk purse.
By nightfall the lights and decorations on the tree had transformed the ugly duckling into something approaching beauty.
Like our tree hunts, Advent is a time of searching. People scurry to and fro seeking presents that they hope will quicken the other’s heart or at least satisfy an obligation. The church often finds itself swimming upstream against a tide of tinsel and red-nosed reindeer.
We plan our alternative events to counter this tide — the Christmas pageant, the great cantata and the evening candlelight service that includes “Silent Night.” We gather as the church seeking to both lift up the Christ child and to become lifted up ourselves.
Joseph and Mary went to Bethlehem to satisfy an obligation to the state. It was not a vacation. It was probably the last thing they wanted to do. They found the town fully booked and ended up bedding down in a stable (this was all pre-hotel.com days). That night a child like no other was born in the most ordinary of ways.
Initially, Joseph and Mary were alone to wonder at and worry about this miracle. Then “the church” showed up — a choir of angels, a congregation of shepherds. Some words were spoken and sung, but mostly it was the silent worship of the soul. The wonder of God had arrived in human form, a baby. It was not exactly what everyone was looking for or even had hoped for from God. But there he was — the great gift that was not sought.
During this Advent I hope you are open for a surprise — the kind of gift that can transform us from who we are to who God wants us to be. It is a gift that comes seeking you.
May you be found.
Gradye Parsons is stated clerk of the Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.).
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