Advent 2020: Changing Traditions

Norseland is a small, rural community in the south central part of Minnesota. About a mile west lies New Sweden Township. Scandian Grove Lutheran Church and Norseland Lutheran Church have been community strongholds in the area for more than 150 years. Unsurprisingly, there are a lot of Swedes and Norwegians there. I grew up on a small farm in Norseland, directly across the road from Scandian Grove. (We never missed church.)

Through the years, I heard a lot of Sven, Ole, and Lena jokes. Sometimes Torvald got thrown in there, too. The community was, and still is, steeped in Swedish and Norwegian traditions.

Advent brings with it so many traditions that we all enjoy year after year. Traditions may be different from family to family, and they make take on their own meanings, but what makes traditions so meaningful is that they are a constant — something that we can count on for normalcy and continuity in our lives.

This year of 2020 has been a year of breaking traditions and finding new ways of doing things. My church back home in Minnesota precedes the Advent season every year by hosting its annual Lutefisk Supper. (For those of you unfamiliar with the white, jiggly fish, it is regarded as a delicacy that is pickled in lye and can be likened to Fish Jello. I am ashamed to admit I have never been brave enough to eat it.  However, I have smelled it multiple times, which is why I have never eaten it!) This year, despite the challenges, the church changed almost everything about the event (except the food) and sold it like a drive-thru, rather than a sit-down meal. It was a roaring success, and for four straight hours, people drove through the church parking lot to pick up their meals. They sold more than 300 pounds of Lutefisk.

Being open to change can be a tricky thing. When I grew up, we had a traditional Saint Lucia service every year, with real candles in a wreath on top of a 13-year-old girl’s head. She was then asked to pour coffee for the congregation, while they enjoyed Fruit Soup (she sat at the end of a buffet table to do this, because walking around with a pot of hot coffee plus a fire on one’s head was deemed a bit too much to ask). This tradition continued even after our 100+ year-old-church burned down to ashes one summer from reasons unknown.

Our congregation eventually quit doing the service — maybe out of enlightenment, maybe out of less obstinacy, or maybe just because there weren’t any teenage girls in the congregation. But I’m pretty sure the fact that it took about 10 years after the church fire to realize we probably shouldn’t be putting lit candles on a young lady’s head every year probably landed us in a few Ole and Lena jokes somewhere.