Advent Preparation

Being rather new to the active faith life as an adult, this Advent, just like Lent earlier this year, is my first "real" Advent. I cannot count those of the past where I neither paid attention nor cared about what was going on in the lead-up to Christmas, so it is with true joy that I get to experience and learn about this season now.

I went to Mass at St. Charles Borromeo for the first time last night after getting in from Thanksgiving travels. I have heard about Fr. Planty, and was very happy I ended up at that Mass because he explained in perfect detail what Advent is about, and how best to observe and grow in holiness during this time. First he explained why the readings are so focused on the second coming of Jesus: because Advent is about looking forward to the first coming of Christ, in his birth, and one cannot help but be reminded of His next coming. I missed which Saintly writer it was who developed it, but Fr. Planty mentioned the idea that there is actually a third coming, which is that of Christ into our hearts, reaching out to us, asking to be let in. And thus during Advent we seek this connection and to grow in holiness. His homily was based around the idea that, on Christmas day, after all the presents are open and the food is eaten and the music has stopped, we want to be sure we feel holiness, and not fatigue from material pleasures. I know that feeling. I do not want to go there.

So then, he gave us homework. I've never had a priest give me homework. Realizing I didn't have a pen, I took mental notes. He asked us to consider our faith life in four aspects in the next four weeks: the Sacraments (particularly Confession and receiving the Eucharist); the Word (particularly the birth story as written in Luke and Matthew); prayer (especially to pray the Rosary and to not underestimate it as a tool to get closer to Jesus); and charity (small or large; monetary or service-based). And before we went to bed last night we were to have taken a few minutes to reflect on these four areas and formulate a plan for achieving greater holiness during the Advent season so that when we wake up on Christmas, we are full of peace.

I had already been thinking about this prior to yesterday evening. The organization of the Church is one of the things about it which appeals to me the most, and thus my love of novenas, liturgical seasons, and all the things the Church has which one can prepare for ahead of time and get a great deal out of. Really, the meaningfulness of these seasons is really down to the individual: all the resources in the world are at easily available - books, podcasts, daily devotional emails, study groups and so on. One must simply prepare and pay attention. Or, in the words of Woody Allen, 80% of success is showing up. I have found that my most successful spiritual endeavors have begun with me simply showing up prepared, and the Holy Spirit does the rest.

So a couple weeks ago I bought a very small Advent daily devotional by Bishop Fulton Sheen. I am already subscribed to Fr. Robert Barron's daily Advent emails and Matthew Kelly's "Best Advent Ever" program. I decided to add an extra Rosary each week to my prayer routine and do daily Mass at least once a week. For charity, I will think about a small gesture to carry out on a regular basis. And, lastly, I will truly meditate on the birth stories found in Luke and Matthew. This would be a good time for lectio divina or even composition of place prayer - what was it like to be the Magi making the journey? How have I journeyed in the spiritual life to get closer to Jesus? What about the sound of the angels singing, the appearance of the star in the sky, the lowliness of the shepherds blessed with the knowledge that the savior had come? What did that look like, and feel like?

I am hesitant to overindulge in all of this action, so as not to do lots of things poorly rather than a couple things well. However my overall Advent plan (and I do love a good plan) shakes out, I will look for where the Holy Spirit is guiding me in the journey and stay close to that. It could be lots of rosaries or daily Mass; it could be serving the poor; it could be writing a very long and detailed essay that no one ever reads on what the great star looked like the night Jesus was born. Either way, I am so happy to get the chance to hit reset and begun a new liturgical year; wake up, be re-born and look forward to the light reappearing very soon now.

John Henry Newman in an allocutio

This evening I gave an allocutio inspired by Ch. 28, Section 5 of the Legion handbook, which is a very dry chapter on a particular higher governing body of the Legion. Basically, the home base in Dublin. What was inspiring about it, after several subsections on correspondents, voting rules, etc., was a little quote from Blessed John Henry Newman at the very end. It wasn't the quote itself I appreciated, but the reminder of another of his (perhaps most famous) quotes, which I know I have written about somewhere on this blog. Anyway, below is the text of my talk, which was a lot of fun to give. 

I would like to focus our allocutio tonight on the quote included at the very end of the reading, from Venerable John Henry Newman. Occasionally in our handbook, and especially these past few weeks as we get to know the various higher governmental systems of the Legion, we have seen a few quotes from Newman. I knew little of Newman until recently, when I began to see him pop up in our readings, so I wanted to learn more about him. I discovered this really nice quote of his:

“God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons.

He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work.

I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments.

Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.”
I find this to be such a breath of fresh air; yet another example of a friend saint who can help us see the bigger picture. There were a few lines that stood out to me:

·        He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another.

·        I can never be thrown away.

·        He knows what He is about.

This reassurance of our uniqueness and value is so critical. I find this idea of our uniqueness, but usefulness, reflected in the spirit of the Legion, and in the thought that everyone who comes to the Legion has something to offer. We have lots of works we perform, but individual personalities and talents which lend themselves to the tasks in different ways. And most importantly, God knows what He is about – He knows what he asks of us and why, and I think we can say the same thing for the Blessed Mother – she knows what she is about, and this is especially true when we perform our work and she is with us.

I enjoyed the readings from Monday, and see this idea reflected there. The readings told the story of Zacchaeus, who was a short in stature but determined to get closer to Our Lord. He could have given himself the excuse that he was small, unseeable, or unworthy, but he ignored what he didn’t have (height) and used what he did have (guts!). He climbed up the tree, made himself known, and Jesus ended up coming over for dinner. To add to that, Zacchaeus ultimately gave away half his possessions, which I doubt was his intent to begin with. In other words, he used what God gave him and ended up with even greater spiritual growth than he could have planned for. I believe the same is possible for all of us when we are able to trust in God, that He knows what He is about and what is best for us. And, too, when we live out the special mission God has for us. Further, we can emulate Zachaeus in his fearlessness in his approach to Jesus. He put everything on the line, because Jesus is worth it.

I have no advice for how to discover that mission other than prayer. You may already have an idea of your mission, anyway. Don’t be afraid of it. The important thing to remember is that even if it takes your whole life, as Newman said, you can never be thrown away. God is infinitely patient with us and waits for us, as we wait for him.

Remembrance

This is the time of year for remembrance. It is the end of another year; it is the beginning of the holiday season, and we revisit what we have, what we love and what we've learned.

Growing up, my family drove 8 hours to Pennsylvania to see my Grandma every Christmas. No matter how late we arrived, she would be awake, warm us up something to eat and then tuck us into bed. It is hard to remember the specifics of those weeks - a lot of cooking at her side as she patiently taught us to make pie crust and other goodies; writing and acting out comedy shows with the cousins to the great amusement of the rest of the family; watching Uncle Buck (Grandma would laugh until she cried); going to Mass at St. Vincent, the giant church on the hill; eating Jioio's pizza and playing bingo. These are such small things. Yet they are as real to me now as the fact I go to work every day. 

Did those days really ever end? Is there not some parallel universe where we are all still celebrating Christmas together? Where the drive-in movie theater is still open, the bingo numbers are still being called, the pizzelles just finished baking? Where everyone we loved is still alive?

 A very long time ago my dad and I were in the front yard, and I was lamenting the fact that our beautifully blooming irises would not last long. The irises were my pride, as I selected and planted them - great, glowing purple and white beauties positively reigning over the other plants. And while we cut them and put them in water to enjoy their beauty and scent, it was ultimately to watch them fade.

His response was something to the effect of: if they lasted forever, you wouldn't appreciate them. This answer didn't satisfy my teenage self then, but now that I am older, I begin to see his meaning: these temporary things we have - sunsets, flowers, vacations, a whole pan of brownies, glimpses of Heaven - simply cannot last, because it is not in their nature, and it is not what God designed them, or us, for. You remember them, and you hold on to their memory, and in doing so you learn their value. If you have that good thing, whatever it is, all the time whenever you want it - well, it's not special. Then the scent of irises is no more special than a bottled perfume waiting on the shelf.

We can take this further and say, too, that not only is life not meant to be all sweetness and beauty at all moments, but that the sorrowful times critically necessary. As Bishop Fulton Sheen wrote, "Unless there is a Good Friday in your life, there can be no Easter Sunday."

How much I would love to see my family again as I did when I was eight; to peel chestnuts for stuffing, listen to oldies on New Year's Eve, see my grandfather play accordion and sing Christmas songs.

But no matter; I remember. And it is in this remembrance that I can still find meaning and value, even when the real thing is long gone. Thank God for memories, even when they pull us back.