The first thing the Lord Jesus gives us in this new Church year, which begins today with the First Sunday of Advent, is a command, a clear and direct command: Be watchful! Be alert! We might translate this a little more directly and in less elevated language; He’s saying: Wake up! Pay attention! And if we don’t start our Advent this way – the way He (more than) suggests, we will have a hard time moving forward.
“Pay attention!” because something remarkable is beginning, something wondrous and of the utmost importance to your life is happening, something earth-shattering and life-changing. But what is happening – in spite of its magnitude – is very subtle, very quiet, and very gentle, yet powerful beyond our imagining. And we could miss it.
The old year in the Church’s calendar ended on the high note of the celebration of Christ as King of, well, absolutely everything – King of the Universe, no small title that! This is the culmination of the whole year’s liturgical movement – from His Birth through His Death, Resurrection and Ascension, and forward even, until the end of time when He will be All in All.
The new year begins, perhaps surprisingly, not with His Birth, not even with His Conception (that reality, the first moment of the Incarnation, celebrated already at the Annunciation on the 25th of March, is wrapped and gently hidden in the womb of Mary and of the old year), but with a period of preparation … of much-needed preparation.
The rhythm of the liturgical seasons is much more about helping us than about simply marking the great events of salvation history. And we need that help to get ready. At least I need it – and I dare say that we all, together, need it – in order to enter into the mystery that Christmas is: to welcome Christ at Christmas and at His Second Coming (but no one will be able to ignore that!), and, most crucially, at His mysterious Coming In-between. And it is especially the preparation for that great moment that the liturgy and its calendar, and in a special way Advent, seek to prepare us.
For the world around us, unless you happen to live somewhere where Christmas and the feeding frenzy of the commercialized Christmas is unknown, the Feast is already here; has been here, probably, for a few weeks already. All the signs and activities (admittedly, not all unpleasant or unwelcome) of what the world has decreed Christmas must be – these are already everywhere to be seen and, at times, either with forced enthusiasm enjoyed or, for those who dare to think differently, silently endured.
The feast has already begun, so we are told – and woe to you if you do not dive headlong cheerfully into the choppy waters of buying and more buying, rushing around hectically, celebrating furiously (with “Christmas” parties) that which has not yet come, and, in general, becoming so exhausted that, when the real Feast actually does arrive, you can usher it quickly out the door on the 26th, and get ready for the next frantic command from the world.
This is not to say that many of the trappings of the cultural celebration of Christmas and the “holiday” season are bad; on the contrary, many have a real charm and of great sentimental value. But the unrelenting bustle and noise (even that of Christmas music a bit too early) of what this time of Advent has become, make it all the more important that we heed the command of the Lord: “Be Watchful. Pay Attention.”
Or you will miss it. Not the Lord’s first coming 2000 years ago. We know that happened and believe in it, and our celebration of Christmas, even with all the less than religious bits, testifies to this belief. You will most definitely
not miss His Second Coming, in glory and power – no creature, alive or dead, will miss that final, culminating moment. We don’t know – and shouldn’t bother asking – when that will happen. It’s a good idea, however, to live as if it is tomorrow.
But what we can very easily miss – especially at this time of year – is the great and wonderful moment the Lord is preparing now, which we celebrate at Christmas but which, of course, is a continuous reality, seeking to occur every day; the setting of Christmas, however, makes it clearer for us. And that is when the Lord, gently, quietly, and with great subtlety and even greater respect, whispers to each of us His great invitation: “May I be born in you this Christmas? Will you give birth to Me in your life, in your every activity and thought, in your world?”
It is so that we might answer this question, the great question, that we celebrate Christmas surrounded by the tender and grand image of the result of Mary’s answer to that question; it is so that we might answer this question, that we are given Advent, a time of silence and longing. Or else we could so easily be led astray by the Devil’s loud and oh-so-cleverly disguised command to Not Be Watchful, Not Pay Attention, lest we let the Lord be born in us, which is what the Devil most hates and fears.
Let Advent be Advent. Let Advent and its own charming and elegant and gentle practices of silence and patience and waiting (and not the practices of the world or even of those good things which belong to Christmas, which is not yet here) be a bulwark, a protection for you and your families against the tidal wave of noise and distraction which threatens to crash upon us and our families, a tidal wave which would cheerfully drown our chance to answer the great and glorious question which the Lord is already beginning to utter to each one of us. “Will you become my new Bethlehem? May I be born in you this Christmas?”
Prepared for Aleteia by the Canonry of Saint Leopold. Click here to learn more about the Canons Regular of St. Augustine.
And today we celebrate...