Love in the Time of Advent

A Reflection for Christmas 2022

When I was in high school, about 15 years old, I became involved with an organization called “Young Life.” It was an evangelical Christian organization formed to introduce teens to the person and teachings of Jesus. I had been raised Catholic, but was beginning my search for my own identity and a deeper spiritual direction than I had, at that time, found in my parents’ religion. To my parents’ dismay, I thus began a journey that would lead me into a variety of forms of Protestantism, nearly into the ministry, and away from the Catholic Church, to which I would not return for more than forty years.

Our chapter of Young Life met weekly at night in a converted barn. It was very popular among the teens in my town. Dozens of us would fill the barn each week, sitting cross-legged on the bare wooden floor, often on cold and snowy winter nights.

The meetings followed a standard format. First, after we had been together for a few minutes laughing and chatting, the leader of our chapter (in this case, a young man in his early twenties named Dave McCarthy, who had acquired the nickname “Wedge” while on his high school’s wrestling team) would get our attention and let us know it was time to start. There would always be a silly skit for which some of the kids in attendance would be given parts to play. The skit had nothing to do with the serious business to follow but it always got us laughing.

At various times in the proceedings we would sing, led by some among us who played guitar. Most of the songs were popular tunes we had frequently heard on the radio, like “Leaving On a Jet Plane,” written by John Denver and made popular by Peter, Paul and Mary, and Bob Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind.” We’d start with songs that were lively and exuberant and involved the clapping of hands. We would then transition to quieter, more subdued songs, leading us into a more reflective state of mind.

After most of the singing was done, Wedge would speak to us. He would start by reading a passage from the Young-Life-endorsed version of the New Testament, a translation in plain English that kids of our age could readily understand. Then he would deliver a brief talk, telling us stories intended to teach us something about Jesus and God’s love. When his talk was over, he would lead us in prayer.

Each evening would end with one last song. The song we typically closed with was “They Will Know We Are Christians by Our Love.” It was a simple, soft, reflective song, and we would sing it holding hands or with arms draped around each other’s shoulders. The lyrics spoke of Christian unity, but the love it described was universal, a love by which we were called “to guard each man’s dignity and save each man’s pride.” (We had not yet reached the era in which such songs were gender neutral.)

“Love” was a theme in much of the culture at that time. The Beatles helped popularize it with “All You Need Is Love.” So did the Youngbloods with “Let’s Get Together,” Peter Paul and Mary with “The Song is Love,” Elton John with “Love Song,” and many others.

Love was also a theme of the hippie movement, and though I understand Young Life has changed since I was in high school, our chapter at that time identified more with the peace and hippie movement of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s than with the more stodgy, older people’s, Billy-Graham-style of evangelicalism. We were young and still trying to figure it all out, but many of us were anti-war and pro-environment. Some of us were fans of the controversial television show, The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour, which often featured musicians and comic performances that took aim at the pro-war policies of the Johnson and Nixon administrations and was cancelled as a result. We wore denim bell-bottoms, flannel shirts, and tie-dyed tee shirts. We hung psychedlic posters in our bedrooms, would flash the peace sign to each other in school hallways, and took part in the first Earth Day. Too young to be real hippies, and most of us not pot-heads, we at least were influenced by the iconoclastic subculture that was all around us.

Not all of us were receptive to the message we heard at Young Life, and even some who were soon would drift away. But others recognized the central theme of the Christian tradition that often got lost then and still gets lost today. It was summed up in the lyrics to our closing song. The message of love signified the brand of Christianity that was stamped on me during those formative years, and though I have not always lived it, I have never forgotten it. It is what Jesus taught and how he lived, and what the apostle Paul so eloquently laid out in the 13th chapter of his first letter to the Corinthians, read at many wedding ceremonies to this day.

We are now entering the Christmas season. We do so at a time when the word “Christian” is often used to signify something that would be unrecognizable to us Young Lifers gathered in that converted barn so long ago. It is a label that has been appropriated and too-often tarnished by high-profile politicians and their followers who spread a message of hate and intolerance. Yet there remain countless Christians -- the kind that seek no power, prestige, or publicity -- who live the gospel every day through worship and service. They are the unsung heroes, the keepers of the faith, and they are not alone. They often are joined by like-minded (and like-hearted!) adherents of other faiths and other kind and loving people who subscribe to no faith at all, people who share the same selfless commitment to performing acts of love for their fellow human beings and the world we all inhabit. All of them, Christians and non-Christians alike, shine as beacons of hope for our troubled world.

The story of Jesus’ birth is a story about God’s love for humankind. It is the reason we give gifts to those dear to us this time of year, the reason families gather, the reason many return to church. It is what inspires us to reflect the spirit of love to those around us, through our words and through our deeds, and sometimes just by being present to those who are alone.

Whatever faith tradition you subscribe to, and even if you subscribe to none at all, I wish for you to be surrounded by the warmest love this holiday season.

P.S. - I usually publish my posts on Sunday, but because next Sunday is Christmas Day, I don’t plan to publish next week. I do plan to publish again on or before New Years Day, and then to resume the usual schedule in 2023.

And finally, Happy Hanukkah to all who celebrate it, beginning tonight!