Sports are often called preparation for life, because they are supposed to teach teamwork, sportsmanship, and character. Losing gracefully used to be part of that training, but now entitlement to success seems to have taken its place on the lesson plan. "Why is it that kids are not allowed to lose any more?" my sister asked me the other day. She finds the "everyone's a winner" policy in sports and public school has fostered, rather than doused, the competitive spirit in her 8-year-old step-son, so that he feels he "has to win." Those who instituted such policies no doubt believed that they were going to make a lot more children happy by removing the possibility for failure. The root of the problem, however, lies in the definition of happiness they are propagating.
The idea that we can be happy only if we win, and therefore everyone must win, means that how and why you play ceases to matter. This translates into a worldview where success is the ultimate goal: "winning at life", which our society portrays as material gain and personal fulfillment. We live in a culture of constant self-affirmation, that tells people they deserve what they want--whether they have earned it or not and whether what they want is something good (in the moral sense) or not. The message given to our children, loud and clear, is "Let nothing stand in the way of your dreams," which they hear as the rather more ominous, if accurate, ""Let nothing stand in the way of your personal success."
Last Sunday, I heard a message from one of our priests startling different from that of the world, "Let nothing stand in the way of being in a State of Grace." How altogether opposite! Can you imagine if we actually put aside every material concern in order to ensure we were constantly right with God? This is, of course, what Christ and all the saints have been saying for centuries, but how strange it sounds in today's world. Whether we call it being "practical" or being materialistic, we all often find ourselves caught in the trap of putting this world's concerns first. Yet, when we are faced with the four last things (death, judgement, heaven, and hell) as we ought to be faced with them daily, material things shrink into inconsequence. How could any of the things that make us "too busy" for confession or mass be more important than our immortal soul? How could convenience weigh more than avoiding occasions of sin, when we consider sin's real consequences? How could fleeting success in this world, through winning, money or fame, make us more happy than "running the race" of this life so that they we reach the goal of eternal happiness in heaven?
As parents, we constantly think about how we can best prepare our children: for the weather, for school, for changes, for suffering, and for the adult world. Most importantly, as Christians, however, we must prepare their souls to meet God. That is, indeed, the whole purpose of the Christian life, the measure of its success. Each year, the Church's liturgical calendar reminds us of this by allowing us to relive and rehearse the cycle of redemption: God's creation, man's failure, God's approach, man's recognition, God's reconciliation, and the beautiful way God allows man to co-operate in renewing creation.
Advent is one time such time where the Church explicitly draws our attention to the preparatory nature of the Christian life. As we make our hearts ready for Christ's incarnation at Christmas, reflecting on how little we deserve it and how much we need it, we also turn the eyes of the soul to His second coming. Withdrawing from the material world, we prepare ourselves for its renewal at Christmas and its eventual passing away at the end of time. The true spirit of Advent rebels entirely against the spirit of this world. It acknowledges the failure of man, reveals the shallowness of material things, and sets the stage for the triumph of humility. Advent may not seem like a happy time, but it is ultimately a joyous one. For while bringing to light our failures and our unhappiness, it also illuminates the hope of a savior. Our preparation at Advent is never in vain, for Christ promises to come to those who wait on Him.
Advent is a tool that Holy Mother Church uses to prepare her children for the coming of Christ. All of us, parents or not, can use Advent as a time to remind ourselves to reorient our definition of success. The world's version of the holidays makes a loud claim: success is a new car, matching cashmere sweaters,
, immaculately wrapped presents, and a warm squishy feeling inside when we all win at life together. We can spend our whole lives chasing that momentary happiness, or we can pursue another "unwrapable" sort of success: that of a life lived in the light of eternity.
The road to eternal happiness is the road to Bethlehem, one of sacrifice, poverty, and surrender at the feet of a humble child. It is also the road to Calvary, where we see our failures and suffer with Christ so that we can be prepared to rise with Him. It is a difficult road we must lead our families down, one that a world obsessed with wealth, comfort, and self-fulfillment sees as foolish. There are no promises of worldly success, rather the opposite. Yet, this narrow road brings us home, and when we reach our journey's end, we will be prepared for our part in the eternal celebration of the glorious victory of Joy.
Today is: The Feast of St. Andrew
Finn is: 16 and a half months old
Mama is re-reading: Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
Littlest One is: 29 weeks along
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