On Sitting in a Thai Restaurant Six Days Before Thanksgiving, Listening to Christmas Music

Today at lunchtime, I was in a Thai restaurant on 17th street in Richmond. It was six days before Thanksgiving, for God's sake, but I was hearing Christmas music.

Well, at first I was only hearing muzak -- that background noise that's often playing in public places. But then the radio announcer broke into my consciousness with her cheery, "Happy holidays, everyone!" It was a station called "Lite 98," which has already begun playing Christmas music!

For all I know, Christmas music has been on "Lite 98" for days, weeks; probably since Halloween. That's the start of "the holidays," right? That's when the stores put up the plastic Christmas trees.

I know, I know, it's me who's out of step here. (I realized that while listening to a sappy rendition of "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire.") The thing is, I live in the liturgical world. When I venture outside, it's a wrenching experience.

In the liturgical world, I will be preaching a funeral sermon for dear Jane Bourn tomorrow morning. Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. The next day is Christ the King Sunday, with its visions of the end of time, of final judgment. It is not until the next Sunday that Advent begins.

Christmas? In the liturgical world where I live, Christmas begins 33 days from today.

Even while listening to a sappy arrangement of "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," and realizing that I'm entirely out of it, I persist in thinking that the liturgical world offers the greater chance for depth of meaning. If it's already "happy holidays," then we're pasting a fake cheer over what we really know is true -- even if we deny it. These are scary times. How much farther will the stock market fall? How much higher will unemployment go? Will the world's economy teeter from a deep recession into a full depression?

Living in the liturgical world, we pay attention to our desperate need -- our emotional need, our spiritual need, our need for God to bring fulfillment. That's what Advent is about.

In the liturgical world, we're honest. We're open. We're looking for the advent of God. We're preparing for the joyous news of Christmas.

But Christmas won't come for another 33 days. By then we will have had time to once again remember our deep need for that joy.