Christmas marks the coming of the Christ Child into our world. Gabriel told Mary that the baby she would bear shall be named Emmanuel, meaning “God is with us.” He is faithful and always encounters us where we are. One of the ways the Church communicates this is by turning pagan festivals into Christian ones. The calendar used during the life of Christ was the Julian calendar. According to that, December 25 was the day the winter solstice was celebrated as light began to show more and more after the darkest and longest days. The pagan festival of Juul (Yule) would be celebrated by lighting fires to “symbolize the heat and light of the returning Sun.” In the Church, we not only celebrate the nearness of the sun in the days to come (winter in the Midwest can indeed be long and dreary), but also the nearness of the Son of God who came to embrace those in the darkness. As a baby, God allowed Himself to be embrace-able by us and ultimately sacrifice-able. This intimate vulnerability is exactly what would save us. Indeed, tidings of great joy! If you attend Mass on Christmas Night, you will hear “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone” (Isaiah 9:1). The world around us can feel dark and desolate, but on Christmas Eve we hear “No more shall people call you ‘Forsaken,’ or your land ‘Desolate,’ but you shall be called ‘My Delight,’ and your land ‘Espoused.’ For the LORD delights in you” (Isaiah 62). How does it feel to hear these words during this Christmas season? We don’t have to search too hard for news that is discouraging. We are facing battles of many kinds and sometimes we feel stuck in the trenches with only a sliver of hope for a ceasefire, let alone a victory. The Good News of the Gospel of St. John proclaims, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1). Even when we feel defeated, we can wholeheartedly know that we will be victorious when we welcome Jesus into our hearts. Will our hearts be like a crowded inn concerned more with the demands of the world and not aware of who is standing at the door? Or, will our hearts be a humble stable bustling with life and ready for any opportunity to welcome our neighbor? No matter the darkness you feel, see, or experience in life right now, Jesus was born of Mary so that He would feel, see, and experience it all in flesh and bone with you! The Evil One tries to lead us into despair, but we know that Jesus was born to die for us to defeat sin once and for all. Evil can only exist in the dark. When it’s brought into the light, it is exposed and defeated by the Light of the World, the Logos, the Alpha and the Omega, the King of Kings. As you turn on your Christmas lights, light a candle, or make a fire in your fireplace throughout this Christmas Season, remember that Jesus is the true gift that shines light into your life. At my undergraduate commencement ceremony, our speaker quoted the lyrics of a Leonard Cohen song. These words continue to bring me hope when I feel discouraged or broken. “Ring those cracked bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” Imagine the light from the Star of Bethlehem streaming through the cracked walls of the stable on that first Christmas. Let’s be on the lookout for the Light of Christ shining through the cracks in our hearts so we can reflect that light for others. Merry Christmas! **This photo is from: http://www.intothedeepblog.net/2016/01/bethlehem.html**
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Advent, the word in and of itself instills hope and builds anticipation for greatness, joy and peace. What is it are we waiting for? It seems with the close of the year, we wait anxiously for those intimate times with our family and friends, a break from work and the routine and a time for closeness. Maybe, we are waiting for a Christmas party, presents and the holiday ambience. As a student, I always find it paradoxical that finals would be during the season of Advent. The hectic study and preparation of exams easily muddles the preparation I could be doing in my own heart for the King. The anticipation, the excess and busyness I find myself in reminds me of the Gospel story where the disciples forget the presence of the Lord in their midst: “And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but [Jesus] was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, ‘Save us Lord; we are perishing.’ And he said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, O men of little faith?’ Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm” (Matthew 8:23-26). Looking without eyes of faith, the disciples found themselves in a panic and disarray. With a focus on the storm and on the circumstance that assailed them, the disciples forgot the most essential truth that was right there with them on the boat: the Sleeping Christ. The answer to their cries for help was peacefully present in their situation ready to grace them with a great calm. What is it, again, that we are waiting for during this Advent Season? The gift we are waiting for is the sleeping babe, the sleeping Christ, in the manger. The Divine Son, who humbles Himself so greatly that He arrives in the stillness of night, in the quiet with shepherds and sheep alike. The Creator God comes in the stillness. What we are waiting for is the Prince of Peace. My own hurriedness in finishing all of my papers and exams, finding the perfect gifts for my friends and family, making travel plans and somehow finding time to stop and recognize where I am headed resembles the experience of the disciples. I am awaiting His peace, but my actions reveal otherwise. I must intentionally make the effort to stop and breathe in what I am truly searching for this December. May the anticipation throughout this Advent season bring us to stop and ponder the mystery of the Lord of the Universe resting in a manger who has come to encounter our hearts. May the peace of the Sleeping Christ invade our hearts, our minds, and our actions so we too may accept the true gift He wishes for us all this season: a great calm (Matthew 8:26). **This blog was originally published on December 12, 2015.** **This photo is from: https://thejesusquestion.org/2011/12/25/nativity-paintings-from-around-the-world/** ![]() On the cusp of Christmas, our lives can be so full of doing this and that. It is usually not a time of silence and contemplation. And yet, the most famous Christmas hymn is Silent Night. It is worth considering that night that we will remember in only a few short days. This period of Advent turns to looking closely at who the Savior is. Only through silence, in the midst of so much happening, can we recognize him. Pope Francis offers us these considerations: “We can ask ourselves: What place does silence have in my days? Is it an empty, perhaps oppressive, silence? Or is it a space for listening, for prayer, for guarding my heart? Is my life sober or filled with superfluous things? Even if it means going against the tide, let us value silence, sobriety and listening. May Mary, Virgin of silence, help us to love the desert, to become credible voices who testify to her Son who is coming” (Angelus, December 10, 2023). The questions asked by Pope Francis are good ones to meditate on in these last days of Advent. Entering into listening and prayer, we can hear God’s voice more clearly. The voice of the One who comes into the world as Prince of Peace and sends us forth to testify to the world our faith in him. May the Charity of Christ urge us on! The Catholic Apostolate Center team is keeping you in special prayer during the Advent and Christmas seasons. May you have a blessed Christmas and a faith-filled New Year! In God, the Infinite Love, Fr. Frank
In Advent, we are asked to keep two themes of the season in mind: the birth of the Christ child and preparation for his arrival to Earth again to end time. These great events, that of God descending in human form to Earth to save us from our sins by his death and resurrection, and the end of time with his arrival through the second coming, are powerful and mystical events. I often forget to focus my thoughts on this period from just before Thanksgiving until just before Christmas begins. One way over recent years that has helped me remember this awe-inspiring season of hope and repentance is through listening to one of my favorite Advent hymns: Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence.
As a brief refresher, it is a song whose lyrics are based on the Divine Liturgy of St. James and has been used as a hymn in Greek since around the third or fourth century. Speaking about the awesome power of Christ and his gift to us through the Eucharist in vanquishing the powers of hell and bringing eternal light, this hymn was revitalized during the Oxford Movement of the 19th Century and adapted to English. For Catholics, we believe in the Real Presence, so our understanding and awe hopefully go much deeper when sung with lyrics such as: “King of kings, yet born of Mary, As of old on earth He stood, Lord of lords, in human vesture, In the body and the blood; He will give to all the faithful His own self for heav'nly food.” For me, this song about Christ Jesus descending and giving of his own life and blood for us – simply because he loves us – is a powerful and calming reminder of what Advent is really about. It is not just about Christmas, and the gift giving, or even just the celebration of Christ’s birth. His birth is not what saved humanity. It was his sacrificial death and gift of the Eucharist that provides us that opportunity to join him in heaven for eternity as fulfillment of the covenant between God and his people. In a season with some of the darkest and coldest days for us in America, a song like this helps us remember that even in our darkest moments, Christ is there as a hopeful light. While the season of Advent is wrapping up, I invite you to take a few moments during your busy season to reflect on the power and awesome love of God’s gift to us, and the preparations we need to make for his return.
As we enter into the second week of Advent, I am drawn to reflect on Mary’s advent 2000 years ago. This period of preparation can be difficult to enter wholly into, especially in a secular world that desires to skip straight to Christmas, but one way to more fully experience the anticipation of Advent is to look to Mary. We can observe how to live out her anticipatory advent of bringing Christ to others in silence every time we receive Our Lord in the Eucharist. When Mary gave her ‘fiat’ at the annunciation, the Christ-Child was made incarnate in her womb, and she spent nine months silently bearing Christ within her and bringing Him to every person she encountered. How radical that intimacy must have been, to be the only soul on earth who knew Christ, the only one to match heartbeats with Him, to be the source of life for the savior of the world. And yet, this time of intimacy was one of great silence and humility. The Christ-Child in the womb did not make a sound, for the first several months there was little sign that Our Lady could take consolation in His presence besides the promises given to her during the Annunciation. In that silence the only way Our Lady could know her Son and King was through allowing herself to become so silent as to hear the heartbeat they shared. This silence leads to the humility of Our Lady giving all of herself to Our Lord, and this humility of laying her life down fully leads to her willingly bearing the persecution of her advent. In the greatest humility, Mary walked around Nazareth bearing the King of the Universe, and allowed assumptions of her character to be made. She did not make a scene with those she encountered, announcing loudly that she was the Theotokos, but rather allowed Christ to work in the silence, as seen in the narrative of the Visitation, when the child within Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy at an encounter with Christ. It is in all of these reflections that we as children of Mary learn how we are also supposed to live in advent. Like Mary, we hold the Christ-Child so intimately within our very bodies every time we receive the Eucharist. We get to experience our own advent each time Our Lord enters humbly into us – the simple veil of bread and wine mimicking the simple veil of infancy which hides, from those who do not hold Christ, the reality of His presence. We have nothing we could give our King that would be a worthy offering, so we offer Him our lives. We allow Him to transform us into living tabernacles, our breath becoming His breath, our steps becoming His steps. We carry Him in our hearts and through the silence of our witness, allow Him to encounter the people we meet. Through living our lives in recognition that we carry Christ in our hearts, we grow in desire to bring Him to those we encounter first before we bring ourselves, and we learn to live in a perpetual advent, like Our Lady, allowing Our Lord to become the source of life within us.
There are many names for Mary, originating from different times and places around the world. Our Lady of Guadalupe stands out from the rest as she is the only one who is depicted pregnant. A doctor examined the image and determined that her stomach had the exact dimensions for a mother in her ninth month of pregnancy. So, it is particularly fitting that we celebrate her in Advent as we prepare for Mary to give birth to the King of kings. The four candles we light around the Advent wreath symbolize hope, peace, joy, and love. As the moon reflects the light of the sun, Our Lady of Guadalupe reflects the light of her Son. She radiates hope: Pregnancy brings hope because a new creation is made known. God could have chosen to save us in any way. Yet, He chose to be begotten in the womb of a young girl from a small town. One of my beloved theology professors says, “God became man so that He could have a mom!” How beautifully mysterious is that?! The Christ Child was hidden in a womb for nine months and then lived a quiet life at home with his parents for thirty years. He grew up alongside peers and shared in rich conversations with the people He encountered. He entered the darkness of human frailty so that He could bring the light of God’s promise. Winter can sometimes reflect the season of our mind, heart, or soul. We can feel hopeless; spring can feel far away. In 1529, the first Bishop of Mexico was beginning to lose hope. Human sacrifices in the area were impacting the hearts of the people he was trying to evangelize. He prayed that Mary would intervene and send him flowers from Spain to assure him that she heard his prayers. Three years later, Our Lady appeared to a peasant named Juan Diego. The bishop had difficulty believing the news, so Juan Diego asked for a sign from Our Lady to assure the bishop that his testimony was true. On the spot where Mary asked the bishop to build a church, Juan found dozens of roses that originated from Spain. Not only were these roses not from the area, but it was out of season for Mexico in December. She radiates peace and joy: When life gets chaotic, the arms of a loved one are especially comforting. Sharing an embrace with someone who truly knows and loves us gives us a sense of peace and fills us with joy. In sharing these very human experiences of loving care and consolation, we can be encouraged by these words that Our Lady spoke to Juan Diego: “Listen, put it into your heart, my youngest and dearest son, that the thing that frightens you, the thing that afflicts you, is nothing: Do not let it disturb you… Am I not here, I who am your Mother? Are you not under my shadow and protection? Am I not the source of your joy? Are you not in the hollow of my mantle, in the crossing of my arms? Do you need something more? Let nothing else worry you or disturb you.” In the rush of the world around us during these weeks leading up to the birth of Christ, we can gaze at the face of Mary, full of joyful expectation awaiting her Child. We can picture her cradling the baby Jesus in her arms and remember His presence with us means the best is yet to come. After all, Jesus Himself says in John 10:10, “I came that you may have life and have it more abundantly!” She radiates love: In this imagery of Mary as a mother, Isaiah 49:15 comes to mind: “Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you.” Devotion to Our Lady of Guadalupe, especially in the Americas, is due to the miracle of her apparition and her answering to the needs of her spiritual children. On the Cross, Jesus gave Mary to John and John to Mary. John as the “beloved disciple” represents all of us. We are invited to be childlike and purely offer ourselves to Mary as her children and receive the motherly love Mary wants to give to us. May you have a blessed Advent waiting in joyful hope for Mary to give birth to the savior of the world and of your heart. **This photo is from https://springfieldop.org/our-lady-of-guadalupe-the-maternal-face-of-god/**
Advent is one of the highlights of our liturgical year. Every year, at the end of the summer, I begin to yearn for colder days. Then autumn rolls around with the beautiful changing leaves, pumpkin pies, and the days seem to go by quicker and quicker (no thanks to Daylight Saving Time!). Then, just after Thanksgiving, we run right into Advent. Each year, it feels like we are sprinting to get to the holiday season and run right through Christmas and New Years. This year, though, I want to be more intentional about celebrating the joy of Advent and run an Advent Marathon, instead of my usual sprint. In the Gospel reading for the First Sunday of Advent we hear, “Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come’” (Mark 13:33-37). I feel as if this is the perfect reading to begin this season, especially with the mindset of entering Advent more intentionally. It serves as a reminder that we all need to be more alert and keep an eye out for the Lord as we do not know when he will come, and we do not want to be caught off guard. It also reminds me to take a breath, slow down, and really embrace the importance of this season - to focus less on the commercialism of “Christmas” and to focus more on the liturgical significance of Advent. One of the ways I am hoping to be more intentional about Advent is through reading more Advent-related content. This means that I might have to take away some of my screen time (which might be a good idea anyways), and focus on reading content like daily devotionals or reflections, praying an Advent novena, or simply setting aside a few extra minutes a day for prayer. Another way I am hoping to be more intentional is through the decor I am putting out in my home throughout the season. While seeing all the Santa motifs, nutcrackers (of which I am an avid collector), and twinkly lights ignites a nostalgic feeling within me, seeing more faith-based decor will serve as a reminder of the importance of the Advent season. Similarly, I am going to try to tone down the Christmas music I listen to and try to replace a few songs in my playlist with some more faith-based music. This does not mean that I am stopping listening to Jingle Bells and the like, but this is an easy switch that will still keep me in the holiday spirit and incorporate more faith into my daily life. A final way in which I am going to try to be more intentional about Advent is by finding more resources to allow Advent into my home. The Catholic Apostolate Center has dozens of Advent-specific resources available to help with this. On the linked page you can find podcasts, webinars, teaching materials, Advent-specific materials for families, blog posts, and a plethora of other resources. Similarly to how I will be taking some time to read more about Advent, I also will take some time to research other forms of Advent materials and implement them into my daily life. Trying to be more intentional about Advent does not need to be a big undertaking that changes your daily routine. There are a handful of small things that can make a big difference in the impact that the season of Advent has on your life. I encourage you to try a few of these out in your own household and hopefully enjoy the marathon that is preparing for the birth of our Lord.
For many of us, the “infancy narratives,” from Matthew and Luke are well loved, but also well worn. Gabriel’s visit to Mary, Mary’s visit to Elizabeth, the birth of Our Lord in Bethlehem — not only do we ponder these events every year during Advent and Christmas, but also every time we pray the Joyful mysteries of the rosary. We know the stories, we know what they illustrate, we know why they’re important. But knowing the basic bullet points of the New Testament is not enough. We are called to know our Lord more deeply, more intimately. Dei Verbum compares the gift of Scripture to the gift of the Incarnation: “for the words of God, expressed in human language, have been made like human discourse, just as the word of the eternal Father, when He took to Himself the flesh of human weakness, was in every way made like men” (13). The Holy Spirit has bundled the immensity and perfection of God into our limited and imperfect human language. Like Christ contained himself in human form, so too has the Father contained himself in our human tongue. This Advent, let us return to the infancy narratives with fresh eyes. Recognizing that, like St. Ignatius advised his Jesuits to do while on mission, we can use the Word to ignite our senses, engage our collective memory as the people of God, and to understand our Lord as both father and friend. The Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth (Luke 1:39-56) is one moment from the infancy narratives that can prepare us in a special way for the coming of our Lord this Christmas. It provides us with a snapshot of Mary as a loving servant who is familiar with the Scriptures, bubbling over with joy, and confident in the promises of her God. Her example is one we can imitate even today. Spend some time with the narrative here and then consider Mary’s threefold approach to Advent:
Amidst the flurry of shopping, visiting, and end-of-year work activities that will surely fill our Advent calendars this season, take five minutes a day to spend time with God in prayer. If you struggle with prayer and don’t know what to say, read the Magnificat. Imagine a young, triumphant Mary, glowing before gray-haired Elizabeth and try to imagine the feelings of joy and wonder Mary must have felt in those moments. Then ask the Lord to help you channel that wonder as you prepare a place for him in your heart. Let your soul proclaim the greatness of the Lord this Advent, through joy, Scripture, and service. **This blog was originally published on December 1, 2016.** **This image is from: https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48279** |
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