This Advent, 'Do the Opposite'

Between shopping lists and Nativity plays, Seinfeld, Elf and St. Paul offer us a reminder: God became man to dwell in our mess. That changes everything.

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On a famous episode of the TV comedy Seinfeld, George Costanza follows this advice: “Do the opposite.” His life decisions have turned out disastrously in work, romance, finance and more. He has always trusted his instincts, but he has been wrong every time. Now, he will “Do the opposite.” If every instinct he has is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right, right? He introduces himself to a beautiful woman, saying, “My name is George. I’m unemployed and I live with my parents.” She is impressed and agrees to go out with him.

This Advent, what if we give it a try? “Do the opposite.”

In recent years, we’ve been caught in an impossible struggle. Each December, we try to enter the quiet of Advent, while simultaneously sprinting around like a lunatic to prepare for Christmas. At an Advent Sunday Mass, we sing, “O come, O come, Emmanuel!” After Mass, we gorge ourselves on nachos and nutmeg-infused beverages while watching hours of football. Then we dash into Walmart for a doorbuster sale, shoving aside our neighbors to get to the half-price electronics sale.

Wait — it gets worse.

After a long Monday at work, interrupted by online shopping, we stumble into a children’s Nativity pageant in subzero temperatures. Slouching into a folding chair in a frigid gymnasium, a favorite nephew shuffles onstage wearing his dad’s blue bathrobe. He is St. Joseph. A flock of kindergarten sheep crawls around the stage wearing white pajamas. “Baaah,” humbug? It’s early December, and we’re already wondering, “Will I survive until Christmas?” Ho ho, no?

Maybe the monks are right. Go into a monastery or a cave for December. Pray. Be quiet. Don’t come out until Christmas Day. Emerge as the sun rises over newly fallen snow and celebrate the birth of Christ. But what if you have a job? Or children? Or both? A monk’s life may look like paradise amidst the tacky consumerism of our American holidays. Do we skip the kids’ Christmas play? Ignore the office party? Don’t buy a gift for grandma this year?

Or should we “Do the opposite?” Go all-in like Will Ferrell in Elf? Drink the eggnog, eat the cookies, buy things online, and then head to the store to buy more. Applaud the nephew, go home and watch Elf again. Eat fistfuls of jellybeans and wash them down with a nutmeg espresso. If every instinct we have is wrong, then the opposite would have to be right. Right?

Instead of Seinfeld, let’s turn to St. Paul for advice. He writes that if we are weeping, act as though we were “not weeping; and those rejoicing as not rejoicing, those buying as not owning, those using the world as not using it fully” (1 Corinthians 7:30-32). He continues, “For the world in its present form is passing away. I should like you to be free of anxieties.”

We all want to be “free of anxieties.” What is he proposing? Do the things we need to do, but don’t get wrapped up in them. He calls us to a thoughtful detachment from many of the things of this passing world.

We are not in control. We cannot create a perfect Advent of smiling children and classy adults in matching sweaters. We live on planet earth, amidst other sinners. Cars don’t start. Macy’s doesn’t have the gloves I planned to buy for grandma. A toddler slips, falls and cries.

What was that first Advent like for Mary and Joseph? Were they hanging handmade Christmas decorations while humming holiday tunes? No. Mary sat uncomfortably on a donkey as they traveled 90 miles for a government census. In Bethlehem, they did not pose for photos with stylish friends. On a dark, cold night, Joseph knocked on door after door as his bride prepared to give birth. They were not in control. God is in control.

“O come, O come, Emmanuel!” He did come. He is here. He is with us at the Christmas pageant and in the rushed vacuuming before a holiday party. Don’t curate your Advent. Walk with Mary and Joseph. Walk with the Christ child, “God with us.”

St. Ignatius Loyola helps us remember the purpose of life. We are “created to praise, reverence and serve God our Lord” (#23, Spiritual Exercises). Everything flows from this truth; everything should point us back to this truth. Let’s make it an ongoing prayer this Advent.

“Lord, at this office party, I want to praise you.”

Be friendly to your annoying colleague.

“At this Christmas pageant, I want to praise you.”

Enjoy the goofy costumes and the awkward middle schoolers.

At Walmart: praise him. Wait patiently in line; trust that grandpa will like the hat. More importantly, he loves you.

God did the opposite. God became man for us. The Lord of all creation became a tiny child, born in a manger. He went further: he becomes food for us at every Mass, transforming bread and wine into his Body and Blood. He dwells within us when we receive him at communion: God with us.

Enter this Advent “free from anxieties.”

Remember the reason for the season, “to praise, reverence and serve God our Lord,” who became man for us.

Enjoy watching Elf with your relatives and baking cookies with the kids.

Mary trusted and hoped in that first Advent.

St. Joseph did the best he could in an imperfect situation, preparing a barn for the Son of God.

Jesus came into a chaotic, distracted and self-absorbed world. He is the opposite. He was held in the arms of Mother Mary and kissed with her lips. We kiss him each time we receive the Eucharist.

This Advent, Jesus does the opposite for us. “O Come, O Come Emmanuel!”