In Anticipation
A quiet Christmas meditation on the sacred pause where longing gives way to worship.
I’m so old I can remember when you could put Christmas cards on top of the TV.
That joke came from a dad joke account I follow on X. I might add that I’m so old that I can remember when dad jokes were just jokes.
Those old console TVs with flat tops used to be a perfect platform for family pictures or various knickknacks. My grandma had a ceramic matador and a red bull on hers with various family pictures. In the faint recesses of my memory, I’m recalling that one of us grandkids broke a horn off that bull, and it had to be glued back on. Maybe more than once.
Times were simpler then, as they say, but that doesn’t mean they were bad. In fact, I think we were on to something. Today it might be called slow living. Back then, we just called it living.
One of my best memories as a kid was sliding a vinyl album out of its sleeve, setting the needle in the groove, and lying on my bedroom floor with the two speakers pressed between my ears as the album started. Just before it started, there was a long, scratchy, anticipatory pause. I couldn’t wait for cut one to begin. There was magic in the pause before the first note.
Listening to music that way was an experience. It wasn’t a backdrop for other activities. It was the activity. Live albums were always my favorite because the roar of the crowd made me feel like I was there at the concert.
My Kmart record player became a time machine. But it was more than that. It was also a present machine, in that, it was a perfect way of staying in the present.
Before printed lyrics were a thing (mostly in CDs, and then in cassettes), I’d listen closely to albums, trying to make out every word, sometimes even trying to write them down in a notebook. And I’d read the liner notes, learning tidbits about the artists and songs, making me appreciate both all the more.
Throughout my school day, I’d be thinking about which album I might listen to that night. The anticipation of the experience was half the fun.
At this time of year, we have something much better to anticipate – the birth of the Savior. What better time to join Simeon in his anticipation.
His story is recorded in Luke 2. Verses 25–26 (ESV) introduce him: “Now there was a man in Jerusalem, whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Christ.”
Not a lot is known about Simeon, other than what we read in Luke 2. Some commentators believe Simeon held great religious authority, while others simply tell us he was faithful. Either way, Scripture is quiet about his status and loud about his waiting.
Imagine how he must have felt. Of all the people who were alive at the time, Simeon was chosen by God to see the Christ child. Not only did he get to see Jesus, but he also got to hold Him – and in so doing, he showed us a little bit of what Christmas worship ought to look like.
Simeon didn’t care whether he lived or died after being in the presence of Jesus. He was so moved by the privilege that he felt as if his life were complete. And it was. So, how could he not worship?
This Christmas Day, all of us have the privilege of being in the presence of Jesus. As you worship him, I pray you’ll have the merriest of Christmases.
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If you enjoy these essays, you might also enjoy one of Lee’s books. When he isn’t writing essays, devotional books or Christian fiction, he is a freelance editor, as well as a freelance journalist who has written hundreds of articles for various newspapers and magazines. He’s also a fan of NASCAR, baseball, tennis, books, movies and coffee shops.
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I, too, remember the old TVs and the things that sat on top of them - as well as vinyl records and the joy of simply listening. Very nostalgic. And I’ve always been intrigued about Simeon because he is a mysterious character in the Bible. I love that he “didn’t care if he lived or died” once he held Christ. Nothing could compare to that moment!