Mark Millican: The advent of Advent

Published 10:56 pm Tuesday, December 2, 2014

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and all through the neighborhood it was quiet as a … well, except for the wind rustling. Trees whose leaves stubbornly hang on through the winter, like white oaks, rattled slightly now and then. Early in the morning it was a few degrees above freezing, but there were some steep hills on this walking route that helped raise the temperature.

After turning the bend I heard a racket up ahead. Straggling across the road from one naked treetop to another were a few dozen starlings, chattering as they left a group of hundreds to join another flock of hundreds. Altogether, they easily numbered in the thousands, and the limbs that until recently held autumnal colors were black and thick with the noisy lot of them.

Striding closer to their raucous cacophony I wondered, do they have little bird ears and could they hear me if I shouted? Unable to resist, I cupped my hands and let out with a loud alpha male “Hey!” They responded immediately, and as they all fled to one side of the road, the collective sound of their wings beating the chill air sounded like a timpani drum that was providing a brief backbeat during an interlude, signaling an orchestra warming for its crescendo.

I kept walking and they massed and turned as one in flight again as they witnessed my approach, this time heading for the sanctity of the forest. Soon I turned another bend, climbed a steep hill and then headed down into a saddle before an even larger hill rose to the horizon.

And there they were in the trees near the saddle, a-chittering and a-chattering away. Before they saw me I shouted again and was treated with their unique drumbeat. They flew back into the woods.

Since I had trekked this route over a hundred times in the last few years and never before witnessed this avian spectacle, I asked the Author of The Greatest Bestseller of All Time what it meant.

“Advent” was the answer. The physical and mystical were aligning once again, announcing a new season was upon us. The last Sunday in November five days hence was the first Sunday in Advent.

Webster’s Dictionary notes the calendar designation of Advent and adds, “observed by some Christians as a season of fasting.” Also, “the coming of Christ at the Incarnation.”

I stifled a guffaw at the first definition. Fasting? Are you kidding me? Abstaining from food, or drink, during the Christmas holiday is the last thing on anyone’s mind these days. Some might say with the Christmas parties, goodies people bring to work and dinner on the big day itself it’s nigh impossible to fast. But the concept makes us wonder about Christmases past.

The late mountains region historian and naturalist Lawrence L. Stanley once told me if the children received an orange or peppermint stick “back in the day” he was growing up, that was a big Christmas. My parents have each told me the same thing.

Today, we’ve just come … so far. People spend hours searching for just the right gift for family members on their shopping list, and children also have their toy list. Perhaps you’ve seen the spectacle of a child pitching a fit for not receiving that one thing on their list they wanted, with toys and books and new clothes (yuck!) scattered all around them amid the colorful wrapping paper.

Then I heard some folks spend up to $3,000 or more each year buying Christmas gifts, and thought how crazy that was. If that amount is put on a credit card, it’s insanity. One wonders in some instances if a “keep up with the Joneses” concept in gift giving is taking place.

Meanwhile, as the economy continues to limp along more people do without. In my travels around north Georgia I always buy a newspaper in the town I’m in, and in the last few years have been amazed at how many foreclosures of homes fill the last few pages. If the breadwinner, who is traditionally the male but can also be a single mom, loses their job because factories or support companies to those plants are shutting down, it may not be long before the mortgage company calls the note on their home.

Suddenly, priorities change and Christmas as we know it may take a big hit. And those who reach that stage thought it would probably never happen to them.

Thankfully, there are many organizations that not only try to see each kid in our area gets a toy or two, but there are also outreaches and ministries that aid those without a job and possibly food and shelter.

Still, there may be those who feel left behind, who suffer from the “Christmas blues” or “holiday depression.” Perhaps this special time of year brings back unpleasant memories of an alcoholic and/or substance abusing parent who ruined Christmas year after year, and possibly left bruises and scars in their wake.

Maybe we need to reevaluate Christmas, and frame it not so much in what money can buy but in what the spirit and soul of those who have enough can offer to those who don’t. Trust me on this one. They’re out there — and Jesus came for them too.