Early in the morning a few weeks ago, I glanced at my desk phone and found I had 15 missed calls from the same number.  There was no message, so I thought no more of it.  The next day a similar pattern and the next and the next.  And, I admit, I started to feel annoyed.  ‘For goodness sake, just leave a message.’  I thought!

And then quite late in the day the number flashed up and I answered.  ‘Who are you?’ the caller wanted to know.  I explained and asked how I could help her.  She hung up.  We did some investigating and then discovered that the serial caller was a resident in aged care who was struggling with dementia.  My heart immediately softened. 

Those of us who have had the experience of a loved one whose memory slowly slips away are acutely attuned to the longing they have for the familiar.  As the normal recedes, they know at one level that life is changing but everything seems a little beyond their reach.  Slowly even the memories they held most closely start to fade.  In her rare moments of lucidity, my mum would describe it as like living in a fog.  Theirs is a world of memory searching and longing. 

Eva was dialling one number incorrectly – she thought she was calling her husband.  Now when she rings, I say ‘Eva, how are you today?  I think you might need to ring this number’ and I give her husband a quick heads up.  Each time she says: ‘Oh how silly of me.  I used to have such a good memory.’  And I know that it won’t be long before even the simple task of phoning will be beyond her reach. 

Advent is a powerful memory searching and longing time for people of faith.  For many of us, it is a time of entering the familiar.  We sing the Advent hymns, re-acquaint ourselves with the richness of the Advent psalms and readings and, if you are like me, the favourite Christmas carols re-emerge on the playlist.  The rituals that proclaim the coming of Christmas also herald that the end of the year is close!  

Our readings guide us with messages of expectant preparation.  Reminders to gentle our hearts and to remember that the Lord has indeed done good things.  To pray and to listen for the still, small voice that might emerge from the wilderness of our hearts and lives.  To renew our trust in the Lord.  For the spirit of expectant hope and joy to capture our hearts and minds. 

There is a shadow in our searching and longing times and this can be painful for some, however.  We may have had deep loss during the year and be dreading the thought of the empty chair at the Christmas table.  Perhaps griefs from of old re-emerge and causing even the Christmas lights to seem dim.  Perhaps the sound of carols ringing through the shops cause us to feel strangely emotional as we recall happier, simpler times.  Perhaps the toil of the year, financial concerns, family pressures mean our spirits are drooping rather than rising.  We may feel as though the hope and joy of Christmas is just beyond our grasp. 

The insight of Cardinal Ratzinger might help with this:

Advent is concerned with that very connection between memory and hope which is so necessary to humanity.  Advent’s intention is to awaken the most profound and basic emotional memory within us, namely, the memory of the God who became a child.  This is a healing memory; it brings hope.  The purpose of the Church’s year is continually to rehearse her great history of memories, to awaken the heart’s memory so that it can discern the star of hope … it is the beautiful task of Advent to awaken in all of us memories of goodness and thus to open doors of hope. 

From Seek that which is Above, 1986

I think this is why our readings and prayers, candles and trees, carols and cooking are so important in Advent.  Our simple rituals can awaken in us memories of goodness.  The readings are a reminder that generations before us have lived and longed and loved and searched.  We join our prayers with theirs for a better world.  We draw on our memory of Christmases past as we decorate our trees, pouring over our accumulated ornaments and ponder the treasured memories they hold.  We open our homes and lives to others in the best spirit of Christmas hospitality. 

So, as we move into this third week of Advent let us allow joy to enter our spirits.  May we know that the hopes and dreams of all the world resting in Jesus on the holy Christmas night can find their way into our own hearts and minds of all.  May the spirit of Jesus inspire in us an unquenchable confidence in the power of goodness.  May our mission lights shine brightly!  May any sadness we carry into Christmas be smoothed into hopeful joy – no matter how tentative. 

And as the angels gather ‘round on Christmas night may they once again spread good news over all the world – for the one for whom we hope and long is closer than we know. 

By Cathy Jenkins

Published: 13 December 2024