Isaiah 63:16b-17, 19b; 64:2-7
Mark 13:33-37
"Veni, veni, Emmanuel
captivum solve Israel."
O come, o come Emmanuel
and ransom captive Israel.
This most-well known and beloved advent hymn has been recorded, rerecorded, arranged, and bowdlerized, more times than one can accurately count. I put "O Come O Come Emmanuel" into Google and got an impressive 70 million hits. Following Google's suggestions at the bottom of the first page and adding the word 'lyrics,' resulted in a somewhat more reasonable 13 million hits. And, if going back to basics by adding 'Latin' to lyrics, the result was a manageable 1.2 million hits, a mere afternoon's worth of research by comparison. There will be much more to say about this 6th century hymn as December 17 comes closer.
"Veni, veni, Emmanuel
captivum solve Israel."
Advent is a time of anticipation and preparation. One of the best explanations of the word Advent is that of Pope Benedict XVI in his short book of meditations Benedictus where he writes that Advent is derived from the Latin roots 'ad' and 'venire', 'to come to' or 'to come toward.' He goes on to clarify that advent is the translation of the Greek word parousia which means 'presence,' but even more specifically means 'arrival.' It is that arrival and presence for which we prepare with anxious and joyful anticipation.
When we are expecting another to come his presence is already influencing our actions. The anticipated presence of the one for whom we wait influences what we do in the present moment. Consider preparing to welcome a guest into your home. The menu may be chosen with the hope that the guest will like it. It will be prepared with special care. Even mundane tasks such as emptying the dishwasher or setting the table may be completed under an advent influence, a preparation for the presence of one coming into this place, a preparation to welcome the one coming toward us.
For this reason the readings, the prayers at Mass, and the traditions that have developed over centuries have come into being so as to prepare us as fully as possible for the coming of Jesus toward and into this world.
The reading begins with an interesting complaint that borders on whining. "Why do you let us wander, O LORD, from your ways, and harden our hearts so that we fear you not?"
Isaiah is asking 'Why did you give us free will?' Why do you allow us to be free self-determining creatures who can and must choose between good and evil, between virtue and sin? Why did you make us human? It's HARD.
Yes, it is.
"Veni, veni, Emmanuel
captivum solve Israel."
Then the prophet confesses the truth of human nature, "we are sinful; all of us like unclean people, our good deeds are like polluted rags; we have withered like leaves, our guilt carries us away like the wind."
The sense of guilt for sinning is fascinating whether it is encountered in the confessional or the psychiatrist's office. It emerges in particular, when the penitent or patient realizes that he or she is responsible for bringing on a state of disquiet, a sense of abandonment, a loss of self, or has harmed another through his or her actions, decisions, or wrong exercise of free will.
We all savor new beginnings, oftentimes seeing them as second chances for a kind of redemption. Thus, the New Year's resolution, the birthday wish, the hope with which we greeted a new school year when we were young. We seem to need a defined starting line for any attempts at change. Advent is one of those beginnings. It is the beginning of the new church year during which everything changes but also remains the same. It can be a time of renewed hope and optimism or a new way of prayer for us. Or it can be a desultory 'same old, same old.' The choice is ours.
The past months have been difficult. Things are not going to magically change with the new year that begins in advent or the new year anticipated on January 1. The only change we can hope for is the change we initiate within ourselves. Perhaps the best we can do under current circumstances is make the changes in attitude and behavior that are necessary to endure ongoing quarantine, arbitrary freedom-limiting edicts from on high, and a heightened sense of anxiety about illness.
"Veni, veni, Emmanuel
captivum solve Israel."
The gospel is neither comforting nor comfortable. As has been true of the readings the past few days, we are advised to remain alert and remain awake because we do not know the time. Uncertainty is among the most uncomfortable situations for humans beginning in infancy. Uncertainty has become a chronic situation over the past months. It is being exacerbated in this present reality of not knowing what is going on, of not knowing what is coming next, of wondering exactly what I must fight for or fight against. The questions can be formulated in many ways. The end result is that of questioning or losing hope.
Erik Erikson described the struggle to develop hope that confronts the newborn who is entirely dependent on others to meet his or her needs. He refers to it as the struggle between basic trust and mistrust. If the struggle is successfully met, a struggle over which the infant has little control, a sense of hope that will help carry the child through life will emerge. The opposite is mistrust and suspicion if the caretaker fails to meet the infants basic needs in a consistent manner.
Uncertainty drives anxiety. A patient fears the diagnosis while awaiting the biopsy result. It seems odd but even a bad diagnosis may relieve a patient's anxiety by placing a name, an image, a title to what had been an unknown. On defining the situation in which the patient finds himself other anxieties and uncertainties will emerge but knowing the 'what' allows a patient to begin formulating battle plans, to develop coping mechanisms, or plans how to adapt. One of the most difficult aspects of the months of covid has been the waffling of government and medical authorities, the insane flip-flopping: 'Yes this works.' 'No it doesn't work.' 'Well maybe it does.' 'Gee, no one seems to know.' The inconsistency with which the "rules" are obeyed by those who make them is not comforting to anyone.
As advent progresses toward the Great Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord we will hear readings that remind us of that which has occurred and of those final things that are to come. We will hear of the end times as we do today, and we will be reminded of the beginning of our salvation. We will be reminded of the greatness of this feast that does not stand alone but begins the story of our salvation.
On the second and third Sundays of Advent the Gospel will focus on John the Baptist; Jesus' herald, who though unworthy to untie his sandal, announced the coming of the Lord. On the fourth Sunday the Gospel will speak of the Annunciation to Mary when we will again hear the words of Mary's fiat, words that changed the history and nature of the universe once and forever.
Ecce ancilla Domini,
Fiat mih secundum verbum tuum,
Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord
May it be done unto me according to your word.
As we enter into the season of Advent it is crucial to recall that despite the pressure from advertisers, advent is not the time of preparation for a holiday. It is the time of preparation for a Holy Day. As we begin the four weeks leading to the Great Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord, we must remind ourselves not to buy into the ridiculous sentiment 'Christmas is for children' (said in a soft sighing voice). Christmas is not for children. It is for all mankind from the youngest to the oldest, the healthy and the infirm, and everyone in between
We are preparing to commemorate the birth of the Messiah, the Anointed One, Son of God, Son of David, Son of Man, who was born of a woman, like us in all things but sin, who became man to ransom us from sin and death.
This is the only reason can we sing with great expectation.
Veni, Veni Emmanuel!
Captivum solve Israel!
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