O Come O Come Oh Jingle Bells

Advent and Small Starts

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Hi! I’m Meredith, and this is Still Today, a collection of stories about my family. I’m approaching the 100th post and the third anniversary of this newsletter, which feels a little unbelievable, but here we are! I’m doing an “Ask Me Anything” Giveaway to celebrate. Scroll to the end for instructions to enter the giveaway and to see the lovely Christmas gift on the table!

Today’s post is about Advent—I’m not sure how much I’ll write about Advent this year. If you find yourself in need of some top-notch (and free!) content in the next few weeks,

Signs + Seasons

has you covered. My favorite thing about this newsletter is that it’s ecumenical. It’s beautiful to hear about the ways the Christian calendar is honored and celebrated by families and individuals across different traditions, here in the Year of Our Lord 2023.

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O Come, O Come, Oh Jingle Bells

We’re not prepared for a particularly “penitential” Advent over here. We haven’t even made it through the Halloween candy yet. On our family calendar, before Christmas day itself, is as follows: at least one Christmas concert, a workplace Christmas party, and an extended family Christmas celebration—because when your family is as large (and as varied in career choice) as Jonny’s, you celebrate on the one possible day that everyone can get together, no matter when that day is.

Also on the calendar, unrelated: way too many medical appointments. It is what it is.

The most permanent tradition in our home is lighting the Advent wreath on the kitchen table and singing together. During the weeks leading up to Christmas, we’ll light the candles in turn, a new one each Sunday: purple, purple, pink, purple—hope, faith, joy, peace. A white candle in the center, the Christ Candle, reserved for Christmas Day itself.

my mason jar Advent candles are no longer with us, but they had a good run.

This is how this usually goes: after dinner, we clear the table of dishes and most of the smears of sour cream or ketchup. Our oldest runs around the entire house, turning out every light he can find (bathroom lights, flashlights, nightlights—he’s very thorough). Then, we put the candles on the table and, depending on which week it is, light the corresponding candles. We sing one verse of “O Come O Come Emmanuel,” and then we take suggestions (singing keeps them at the table longer). It’s never very long before someone gleefully mentions “Jingle Bells.” Then, without hesitation, we’re all singing it together.

It could be argued that “Jingle Bells” is not the right song to sing around an Advent wreath—that we need to do a little more digging, to find some songs about the Magnificat or John the Baptist or some subject more Advent-y. I’ve ragged on the cultural impulse to jump the gun, liturgy-wise. But the first day a child burst out in the chorus of “Jingle Bells,” in my house this year was November 24. In our defense, it was snowing, and that’s only one month before “real Christmas.”

Our family singing Christmas Carols around the Advent Wreath feels like a very small start as far as seasonal liturgical practices go. We don’t have a Jesse Tree. I’ve never actually said the St. Andrew Novena prayer every day between November 30 and December 24. And most of the verses of “O Come O Come Emmanuel” are quite fuzzy, even when we have a copy of the song in front of us.

Advent is a season of waiting, and it’s helpful to remind myself of what we’re waiting for: a baby. This waiting requires preparation, but it’s also peppered with joy. The Church calendar reflects this—we celebrate St. Nicholas Day (December 6), the Immaculate Conception (December 8), and the feasts of St. Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe (December 9 and 12) all in Advent, every single year.

At our house, we celebrate “St. John of the Hot Cross Buns Day” (December 14), right after Santa Lucia Day (December 13), because somebody was very, very sad a few years ago that only the oldest girl was given the privilege of carrying cinnamon rolls to everyone in the morning. (Note to self: buy a couple cylinders of canned cinnamon roll dough. PSA to all: those puppies can cook in about seven minutes in an air fryer.)

And then there’s Gaudete Sunday, that third Sunday of Advent (the 17^th this year), in which joy is the order of the day, even though Christmas hasn’t actually come yet. We sing with Mary, who’s rejoicing with her cousin Elizabeth over their impossible babies,

“My soul magnifies the Lord,

and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.

    Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;

for the Mighty One has done great things for me,

    and holy is his name.” (Luke 1:46-49, NRSV)

We’ll baptize our own baby boy during Advent this year. Our three boys were all born in the fall. Right now, the three of them lined up in a row is this hilarious “baby boy, toddler boy, big boy” progression.¹ During three different Advents, I will have held a baby boy and passed him around the pew during mass. I couldn’t call this a “tradition,” but it has been a remarkable gift. This year, too, I will stare into the new face, watch his arms reach out for the world in that newborn way, kiss his tiny forehead—this is what we were waiting for. This is what He was like, at least at the beginning. God Himself was willing to start small. And it’s okay if our Advent practices start that way, too.

“Ask Me Anything” Giveaway

You enter the giveaway by… asking me a question.

Any question?

Yes, any question. Topics I know about: writing devotional content for children, having a lot of babies in a short amount of time, converting to Catholicism, skipping steps in recipes, getting a crash course in the Saints by writing about them. Topics I don’t know about: nuclear fission, household organizational systems that stick, flora and fauna of southeast Colorado (but I want to know more!), metalworking, writing fiction. But everything is on the table. Ask away!

I will compile your questions (I’m thinking I’ll choose five to seven of them) and my responses into the 100th Still Today post, which will be posted in January. I’ll take questions via comment or direct email (or by text or in person, Mom).

As a “thank you” for submitting a question, you’ll be entered into the giveaway. I ordered a set of Saint Polaroid Minis and some Christmas gift tags from January Jane Shop, a family run small business that creates beautiful Catholic gifts and art. You’d have to follow the links to see the quality and craftsmanship for yourself. (This is not affiliated in anyway. I just like the shop. Sometimes Substack links don’t work — so, the url is https://www.januaryjaneshop.com/)

I love the Saint polaroid project — the modern Saints lived during a time when they could be photographed. So Jana Pingel (the owner of January Jane) has taken these photographs and added calligraphy, using the Saints’ first names. The result is a good reminder of how human these heroes are. I chose a set of mini polaroids (Edition 3) that includes St. Frances Xavier Cabrini, Venerable Augustine Tolton, and Blessed Franz Jägerstätter, among others. Jana also created a book of these photographs called Humans of Heaven, but it’s on back-order until February. The gift tags have lovely little watercolor images of the gifts from the Twelve Days of Christmas.

I’ll take questions until December 17. On December 18, I’ll choose a question asker at random, track you down, and ask for a good address via email. Then I’ll priority mail you the gift tags or Saint polaroids, or both. You will get to choose! Hopefully these gifts will help round out your Christmas giving. I’d love to hear from you!

1. In honor of Blessed Carlo Acutis, and anyone else who would appreciate a corny Pokémon joke, I’ve nicknamed them, “Squidget, Wartoddler, and Blastiboy.” This is my life right now.