This morning I want to talk a little about Advent Schizophrenia, Little things and Charlie Bucket. I want to begin with schizophrenia because for me that’s what we become in Advent. For on the one hand we’re surrounded by Christmas, indeed we had a jolly Christmas Bazaar yesterday. In contrast to that the church, in words, music and our building is saying hang on a minute, we’re not there yet.
It’s tricky living in these two worlds. Part of me feels a bit miserable if I get all humbug to the Christmas Cheer. Yet another part of me says I need Advent. I need that sense of hopeful waiting. I need some space to think about things framed by the perspective that this blessed season brings. Advent is good for me.
So perhaps what I need to do is simply accept that we’re a bit schizophrenic over the next few weeks, not being too grumpy “harrumph its not Christmas yet” nor wholly giving oneself to the party spirit as if there’s nothing to be said for waiting. But how?