What is it about Advent? So many Christians have a special devotion to this holy season. I’ve been wondering why that is – why these four weeks move us so deeply. I could focus on the richness of the liturgy – the music, the readings, the great wreath of greens and colored candles. I could extol the beauty of all of it. Yet, I think there is something else – something we can’t see, hear or touch. It is the gift of fulfillment.
These Advent days are pregnant with a promise that was kept – made good in a manger two thousand years ago. This season of holy waiting is really a time for reflecting on the mystery of the Incarnation – of the boldness of God in entering our world, of the sanctification of our humanity in that cosmic leap, of the greatness of One who surrendered the mantle of divinity in exchange for coarse, cold swaddling clothes. It’s too much for us this great love! And it’s a done deal. It’s not like we’re waiting for something that might not happen. God joined our ranks and through the life, death and resurrection of Christ, God remains with us – today, here, now! A truth so wondrous demands our attention as we approach the feast of Christmas on bended knee. Advent – the coming of God – is to be celebrated richly. We can do it even as we take care of all the Christmas preparations. Advent happens in the silence of the heart, in the luxury of contemplation, in making our souls truly free for God. In his small book of Advent reflections, Fr. Richard Rohr writes, “It is largely great love and great suffering that creates spiritual listening and larger seeing.”[1] God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life (John 3:16). The love and the suffering are linked in the Incarnation and the best Advent hymns connect the spiritual dots. “I Sing A Maid”[2] and “Wood of the Cradle”[3] are two that move me at my core.
The whole Church has entered a hermitage and we are ever watchful now – attuned to the winter sunlight on frozen branches, listening to the crunch of snow beneath our boots, present to the wonders of this tender, fragile world. We are all, by grace, full of God. As we come to a deeper recognition of the Word in our own flesh, we will give to our brothers and sisters, not from our surplus but from our need. We will reach out to the lost – all those cut off from the warmth of the Body of Christ. Then, Christmas will come as expected, but it will be one Christmas closer to the Kingdom.
Advent blessings and love to you all…
Vicki
God is Always More 