What are your earliest memories of Advent?

Perhaps the hymns, the liturgical colors, or the readings from Scripture made an impression on you.

For many of us, Advent candles feature prominently in our memories of this season: lighting them, seeing them lit, waiting for the next candle to be lit.

I’m sure that I’m not the only one who associates Advent candles with family.

When I was growing up, we had the Advent candles on the dining table. Each evening, before we began dinner, someone — usually my father or mother — lit the appropriate candle(s), and then my sister or I would read aloud that week’s Collect. I remember being so excited when I was old enough to read the Collect! Those simple rituals moved me deeply as a child. Through them, I learned the meaning of Advent: our waiting in hope for the coming of our Lord.

These lessons were reinforced outside of home. I saw Advent candles around town and in church, of course. Where I grew up, the city placed large three-dimensional, electrified signs on the tops of bridges. The signs showed Advent candles, and each night, the appropriate number of Advent candles would be “lit.” I used to love seeing them as we drove around town.

Our family church, like most churches, also had Advent candles on display and a ritual for lighting them. Usually, the candles were in a wreath that was either on a large stand by the lectern or suspended above the rood screen, at the entrance to the choir and chancel. When the Advent wreath was suspended above the rood screen, things could get quite exciting. The wreath had a pulley so that it could be lowered (for the candles to be lit) and raised. That was always fun to watch. Even more exciting was what sometimes happened during the opening processional. If the crucifer forgot to lower the processional cross before taking the three steps up to the chancel, the top of the cross would catch the Advent wreath and send it swinging over the congregation and then back over the choir. Because it was attached to the ceiling, the wreath couldn’t fall, but it could sway precariously. Usually, the crucifer forgot to lower the processional cross at least once during Advent. On each of the four Sundays, the congregation, choir, and clergy waited in anticipation to see what would happen.

At home, we didn’t use a wreath with our Advent candles — perhaps the large wreath at Church was dramatic enough — and we didn’t use colored candles. Instead, we had beeswax candles. My mother used wide red ribbons to attach the bases of the pillar candles to a central wooden pillar (also red) that had a large gold star on top. It was a very simple display, with the red ribbons reminding us not only of the Christmas that was coming but also the Passion that would follow.

I have always associated the smell of beeswax candles with Advent and Christmas.

What do you remember of the Advents of your childhood? What traditions do you follow now? How do the children in your life understand the coming of our Lord Jesus?

Advent is a season, not a time period. It is not the “when” of buying gifts and decorating for Christmas. It is the “now” of waiting for Jesus to come, of preparing and ordering our lives, of keeping watch over our troubled world and of ourselves. It is the “now” of our communion with each other and with Christ.

Come, Lord Jesus!