A Season of Wonder

In his magisterial book, A Secular Age, philosopher Charles Taylor describes the transition from an enchanted worldview to a disenchanted worldview over the course of centuries.

The enchanted world, per Taylor, is a world in which the gods and spirits are active in the world, interacting with humanity, and playing a role in the unfolding of history. The disenchanted world is a world in which the realm of the gods and spirits have been closed off, leaving us in an immanent, material world where the transcendent no longer serves as a referent point.

James K.A. Smith, in his helpful primer on Taylor’s work, How (Not) to Be Secular, compares life in the secular age to a sports stadium where the retractable roof has closed, separating the God in the sky from the happenings on the field. 

We live in disenchanted and disillusioned times. Wearied by another election cycle and anxious about the future, Advent could not come at a better time. For Advent is a season of wonder, a season of re-enchantenment, a time where the roof is retracted and our lives and the world are open to God again.

As a child, I felt the lead up to Christmas was a magical time. I remember my siblings and I piling into our car and my parents would drive us around the town looking at Christmas lights. Magic.

I remember the time when Santa made a surprise visit, his sleigh having ‘car’ issues and just happening to end up broke down at the end of the block where I lived. He stopped for a cup of cocoa while his sled was fixed. Wonder.

I remember the dancing of the candlelight at Christmas Eve worship when the sanctuary lights were dimmed and the voices sang out Silent Night. Enchanting. 

I have not even mentioned the biblical stories yet. 

The miraculous birth of John the Baptist.

The miraculous conception of Jesus.

Angels appearing in dreams and speaking to God’s people. 

The stars aligning in the sky, leading the Magi to Jesus in the manger. 

These stories are pure magic. They are enchanting. In describing the stories in this way, I do not mean to imply they are not real or not true. I do mean to highlight that they are stories in which the realm of God is not cut off from the realm of this world; stories in which the retractable roof is opened and the world in which humans live is re-enchanted by God and transcendence. 

Can Advent be a time of wonder, not only for children, but for adults?

Can Advent be a time to reawaken our souls to the activity of God in our world?

Can Advent be a time for the light from on high to dawn upon us so that we see everything afresh in its glimmering light?

I once heard someone say that no matter the year, Advent comes along at the right time for something, because there is always something that leaves us down, depressed, or disillusioned. Advent names this reality in our lives, the reality that something disturbs or drains life. And at the same time, Advent invites us to lift up our eyes to the heavens, to see the roof open up, and God come down, a magical reality which leaves us in a state of wonder.