It’s that time of year again, as Bing Crosby crooned, “It’s
the Most Wonderful Time of the Year.” But, with so many things to
do and so little time to do them, preparing for the Christmas season
can become overwhelming. Pardon me for sounding like a Scrooge this
early in the Christmas season, but just think about it:
·
Christmas shopping: not just shopping, but making the list and
checking it twice;
·
putting
up and trimming the tree as well as arranging all of the
decorations, and then, taking everything down;
·
writing
notes in each Christmas cards, sending them out before the
last-minute rush, and then updating the list of who’s to receive
cards next year;
·
getting
ready for the Christmas holidays, the feasts to be hosted, and then,
as a consequence, going on a diet because of having over-eaten for
nearly six weeks (don’t forget the Thanksgiving dinner); and,
·
let’s
not forget the numerous parties and dinners leading up to the
holidays that we must attend, and then having to write all of those
thank you’s.
Just
contemplating all of the things we will have to do within the next
four weeks, come Christmas day, it shouldn’t prove surprising that
we find ourselves tired out and possessing little energy to enjoy
all of the festivities and, more importantly, the “reason for the
season.”
In
reality, this scenario about how many of us spend the season of
Advent is a snapshot of something else and, perhaps, something much
more critical, namely, the hectic and helter-skelter lives we live
during the remainder of the year. How much we look forward to and
eagerly anticipate momentous events and, when they finally do occur,
we miss the meaning of these events because we’ve been running
around ensnared within a vicious circle of our own making.
The
late-songwriter, Harry Chapin, used to end his concerts with a song
he entitled “Circle.” The refrain begins with the words, “All my
life’s a circle,” and then proceeds to describe some of the routine
cycles we experience. One line, “The moon rolls through the
nighttime till the daybreak comes around” bespeaks the daily round
marked by sunrise and sunset. Later, we’re reminded about the
“seasons spinning ’round again” and the years “rolling by.” Another
verse describes two lovers who find and lose each other “a thousand
times, just like a child’s game.” The lyric to this particular
verse concludes, “As I find you hear again, the thought runs through
my mind—our life is like a circle, let’s go around one more time.”
But,
“going around one more time” can have the deleterious effect of
dulling our senses and sensibilities about what really is happening
in our lives. Think about it. It’s not just everything we have to
get completed by Christmas, but it’s also:
·
couples
who are preparing for marriage: before they know it, it’s suddenly
their 25th anniversary;
·
parents
who are awaiting the birth of a child: before long, they find
themselves watching on as their baby is marching up the aisle to be
married; and,
·
students
who are eagerly anticipating graduation: before long, they discover
themselves immersed in careers and having to make important career
decisions that affect not only their lives but also the lives of
others, including their spouses and children.
All of
these situations force us to ask a question Harry Chapin’s song
doesn’t ask: “Where did all of the time go?”
It is so
very easy to get caught up in anything and everything that time
actually does pass us by. Yet, this experience raises a more
substantive question for anyone who is sincerely interested in
living a spiritual life, namely, “Where was God in the middle of all
of this?” Whereas Harry Chapin’s closing song reminds his
concertgoers of the fitful but earnest effort that involves both
“losing and finding” over and over again, the season of Advent and
its readings from scripture challenge us to address the deep longing
in our souls for God. While we may wax and wane in our spiritual
lives as we sometimes desire to find but more oftentimes lose sight
of God, today’s gospel reminds us of something Harry Chapin’s song
neglects, namely, the God we so desire is already present in our
lives, if we but open the “gates” to let God in!
The
gospel for this first Sunday of Advent reminds us that we live in
hope because God is going to surprise us by His presence. And, we
are told, we keep this hope alive by being awake and watchful
gatekeepers. We are to be awake, not bored, sleepy,
or brain-numbed by our daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly routine.
We are to be watchful, not distracted and running
about like chickens with their heads cut off. We are to be
gatekeepers awaiting God’s arrival, not ushers collecting
tickets at Six Flags or Disneyland. This is how we remain focused
on today—“This is the day,” the Psalmist says—with hearts full of
hope that God will surprise us.
My Uncle
Lee recently sent me a story, entitled “The Tablecloth,” relating
how hope and watchfulness once met, in of all places, a church.
The new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry
to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, arrived in early October
excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it
was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have
everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas
Eve.
They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc.,
and on December 18, were ahead of schedule and just about finished.
On December 19, a terrible tempest—a driving rainstorm—hit the area
and lasted for two days. On the 21st, the pastor went over to the
church. His heart sank when he saw that the roof had leaked,
causing a large area of plaster about 20 feet by 8 feet to fall off
the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning
about head high.
The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what
else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On
the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market
type sale for charity, so he stopped in. One of the items was a
beautiful, handmade, ivory colored, crocheted tablecloth with
exquisite work, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the
center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the
front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.
By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the
opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The
pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45
minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor
while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a
wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it
looked and it covered up the entire problem area.
Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face
was like a sheet. “Pastor,” she asked, “where did you get that
tablecloth?” The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check
the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted
into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman,
and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria.
The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just
gotten the tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she
and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis
came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her
the next week. He was captured, sent to prison and never saw her
husband or her home again.
The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the
pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her
home. That was the least he could do, he thought. She lived on the
other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for
a housecleaning job.
What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was
almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of
the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door
and many said that they would return.
One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood,
continued to sit in one of the pews and stare. The pastor wondered
why he wasn’t leaving. The man asked him where he got the
tablecloth on the front wall, because it was identical to one that
his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the
war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike. He told
the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for
her safety and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested
and put in a prison. He never saw his wife or his home again all
the 35 years in between.
The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little
ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the
pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man
climb the three flights of stairs to the woman’s apartment, knocked
on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever
imagine.
We
cannot live without hope. Unlike nonhuman animals, we human animals
are blessed—or, some may say, “cursed”—with the ability to
contemplate the future. So essential is hope to our lives that we
cannot live without something to live for and to look forward to.
To be without hope, to have nothing to live for, is to surrender to
despair.
So, we
find all sorts of things to live for. We also hope for many things,
in fact, almost everything. We might hope for some measure of
success or security. We might hope to realize some more or less
modest ambition. We might hope that our children might be saved
from our mistakes and sufferings and find a better life that we have
known. We can hope for a better world, throwing ourselves and our
energies into politics or medicine or technology so that future
generations might be better off. This kind of hope is not selfish.
No, it gives dignity and purpose to the lives of countless
generations of human beings.
But, the
idea proposed by today’s gospel that we are to be awake and watchful
gatekeepers is particularly challenging because it requires
generating hope by doing something countercultural, namely, stopping
and surveying what it is we are doing and asking why
we are doing what we are doing. By being awake and
watchful gatekeepers, we remain alert and vigilant for we hope will
be of true significance for our souls, for our homes, and for our
world. And, conversely, as we recognize something potentially
destructive, we fend off and keep the gate shut so that it does not
destroy our souls, our homes, and our world.
Perhaps
for some of us the idea of being awake and watchful gatekeepers
connotes something negative, for example, focusing solely upon
threats, namely, the power of evil manifesting itself. Parents who
do this are likely to say, “You shouldn’t do that!” or “That’s
wrong….stop it!” Young people who do this might say, “You’ll get
into trouble if you do that!” Teenagers put the same experience in
these words way: “I’m not so sure….it might be better if….” Being
awake and watchful gatekeepers reminds us about the importance of
keeping the power of evil at bay when it tempts us or others to do
something that might destroy our souls, our homes, or our world.
At the
same time, and not to be overlooked, are the positive aspects of
being an awake and watchful gatekeeper. This means opening wide the
gates to that which is of supreme value, namely, God’s presence,
Whose advent comes as today’s gospel describes it “at unexpected
times.” This is the God who “surprises” us as He breaks
unexpectedly smack dab into the middle of our lives.
One way
God comes into the middle of our lives unexpectedly and surprises us
is when we fall in love.
We
oftentimes don’t think about it but what is beloved—what we find so
alluring and seductive in another person—is the God Who dwells in
and reveals Himself—is made flesh—through that person. Think about
it: what we see and love in a spouse, what we see and love in our
children, friends, and yes, even in our in-laws, is the mysterious
and alluring presence of God.
The
season of Advent reminds us that we are to be awake and watchful
gatekeepers who are ready to open up the gates and to let God into
our lives! It’s when we don’t think about this surprising theophany
that we suddenly find ourselves ensnared in dead-end relationships
that have no meaning. Or, we might bolt the gate closed to the
people through whom God desires to reveal Himself to us.
That’s
the Advent challenge before us. One way to meet this challenge
during the next four weeks is to consider those people whom we’ve
used for our own selfish purposes or bolted the gates to, in short,
those in whom we’ve refused to recognize God’s presence. Then, we
must ask ourselves: What must I do so that the gates—my arms—can
open up and I can embrace these people in whom God dwells?
If we
dare to accept this very difficult challenge, then next year—that
is, if there will be a next year—we won’t come back with the same
old lame excuse. We also won’t have wasted another 365 days of our
limited time here on Earth.
Another
unexpected coming of God is when families gather for meals,
especially daily dinner. Let the skeptics doubt but, as Jesus’
disciples, let us have no doubt whatsoever: the warmth and affection
we can experience through the daily ritual of a family meal is an
experience of God’s surprising presence at work in the middle of the
domestic church, the family. Stop to think about it: rather than
allowing ourselves to become ensnared in the vicious circle of
eating and then running elsewhere, a time where there is little
physical nourishment and certainly no spiritual nourishment,
dinnertime each Advent day can become a touchstone in a family’s
daily life where every member of the family can recognize God’s
presence in the tabernacle of the table.
The
season of Advent reminds us that we are to be awake and watchful
gatekeepers who are ready to open up the gates and to let God into
our lives! It’s when family members—especially mothers and
fathers—don’t think about making their home a domestic church where
God’s presence is recognized each day that family members suddenly
find themselves ensnared in a vicious circle of grazing rather
feasting upon the surprising bread of life that God is waiting to
offer.
That’s
the Advent challenge before us. We can consciously make dinner the
moment in each day where every member of the family recognizes God’s
presence. One way to do this is for each family member to
demonstrate their interest in one another rather than gulping down
dinner and running off to watch television, to play with the
computer, to do homework, or to visit an Internet chat room because
those are the people that we’d really rather converse with.
To begin
breaking this vicious cycle during Advent, each member of the
family—Moms and Dads first, though, because they are the primary
educators and chief catechists of your children—can open the gates
to God by offering a blessing before the dinner meal and giving
thanks to God. In that blessing, explain how God has made His
presence felt today in the life of your family.
If every
family accepted this challenge, then next year—once again, if there
will be a next year—none of us would come back with the same lame
excuse and won’t have wasted another 365 days of our limited time
here on Earth.
I can
hear it now. In fact, I’ve heard it already, “Gag me with a spoon!”
or “Get real!” or “I can’t do that!” To which I respond, using St.
Paul’s words, “Say only those words that will build one another up
as the body of Christ.”
As we
progress into our new church year, and as we begin to anticipate
celebrating Christmas, it is most appropriate that we think not so
much about what the future will bring but what we need to be aware
of today as we prepare for the future we anticipate. While there
are many situations that we can allow to make us fearful in the
present, such as the threat of a terrorist attack, of crime, or of a
pandemic, most of us don’t live in fear and oppression nor do we
live in harm’s way. Our real enemy, then, isn’t fear but
complacency; our real enemy isn’t fear but apathy; our real enemy
isn’t fear but accepting the status quo; our real enemy isn’t God’s
absence but living in a vicious circle within which we exclude God,
whether intentionally or unintentionally.
Advent
is not about starting the vicious cycle all over again, thinking
about Santa Claus and all of the gifts I want, the parties and
feasts that I need to prepare for, or the diet resolutions I know I
will be making once again on New Year’s Eve. No, Advent literally
means “coming.” For Christians, Advent means “the coming of God
into our lives” and especially as we discover the Word made flesh in
our lives. This is the season of creating expectations grounded in
the hope that God will surprise us, and, as awake and watchful
gatekeepers, we will discover God’s presence in our souls, in our
homes, and in our world. Nothing could be more apostolic, more
Christian, more Catholic than if we were to look at our lives and to
discover our hope fulfilled in the God Who surprises us with His
presence each and every day smack dab in the middle of our lives.
Absent
this reflective preparation, we will have wasted much of our lives
by leaving the gate closed. We will have also continued to live
within the vicious circles that we’ve created. But, when we are
awake and watchful gatekeepers, God will break open those vicious
circles and we will sense something very wonderful and reassuring.
God will surprise us as His Word is made flesh and dwells somewhere
smack dab in the middle of our lives.
A very brief commercial
break...
As
Catholics, we prepare for Christ's coming by celebrating the season
of Advent. During the coming four weeks, we prepare the way
for Christ to come into our own lives each and every day not just on
Christmas day. For Catholic families, let me suggest five
practical ways to prepare for Christ's coming:
1. Place
an advent wreath in the center of your dinner table. Each
evening before sitting down for dinner, have one member offer a
prayer of thanksgiving to God for His presence in the life of your
family and light the appropriate candle(s).
2. Use
an Advent calendar.
Hang an
advent calendar on the refrigerator door beginning on December 1st.
Each morning, before everyone scatters for the day, have one member
of the family open one door and read the scripture verse or describe
the biblical scene behind the door. This is a great way for
family members to keep focused on the coming of Christ for the rest
of the day.
3. Make
a Jesse tree. The Jesse tree is the traditional way that
Catholics recall Jesus' heritage, coming from the line of King
David, the son of Jesse. Have members of the family make a
symbol for each day of Advent that marks an important moment in
Israel's history (e.g., Noah's ark, Jacob's ladder, Moses' stone
tablets, David's harp). Then, each evening before everyone
goes to bed, gather the family around the Jesse tree, have the
family member explain the symbol, and hang it on the tree.
4.
Celebrate the Feast of St. Nicholas on December 6th. One
way to "put Christ back into Christmas" is to reclaim the
faith-filled life of heroic virtue revealed in the great Christian
saint, St. Nicholas of Myra. Besides sharing simple gifts with
family members, like placing candy in shoes that have been left
outside of the bedroom door, share some time with people who are
alone, in the hospital, convalescing, etc.
5.
Celebrate God's mercy. Advent is a particularly fitting
time for every member of the family to welcome the light of God's
forgiveness into the dark places of family life. Gather the
family together and go to church to celebrate the Sacrament of
Penance together. Then, go out for pizza to celebrate God's
mercy and a new beginning free from sin.
By
participating in these five practical activities to prepare for Christmas
day, Catholic families will not only have contemplated their need
for God and God's self-revelation through salvation history.
In addition, they will have experienced God present and active in
their family's life. Then, on Christmas day, when family
members greet one another by saying, "Merry Christmas," they all will
truly be prepared to celebrate the Mass wherein Christ will
strengthen and nourish them with his body and blood to bring Christ
to the world.
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