Homily for Midnight Mass at the Abbey of Regina Laudis

Venite adoremus,  Dominum

 

O pridite molimo Jezusa

 

让我们齐来朝 他主基督!

 

Ó vinde adoremos Cristo é o Senhor.

 

O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord

 

We heard the readings of the Mass at midnight, readings that were and will be heard,  by billions of people worldwide. The final words of the chorus  of one of the most beloved of all Christmas hymns will be sung throughout the world in Latin, Slovenian, Mandarin Chinese, Portuguese, English,  and every other known tongue. 

 

As we gather to celebrate the Great Feast of the Nativity of the Lord our thoughts may drift back to other years, sometimes just a few years back while others go back more decades than we care to count. We may recall THE BEST CHRISTMAS EVER, the one during which we were being crushed with pain,  or one that was somewhere in between.  

 

We may recall the last Christmas with a loved one when all seemed right with the world, or the first Christmas without a loved one when nothing seemed the way it should have been. We may recall that Christmas as a kid when we stayed awake for midnight Mass for the first time.

 

There may be memories of the last Christmas before entering the novitiate or the first Christmas in the novitiate when everything was radically different.  Remain with those memories, they arise for a reason.  

 

The commercial messages of how Christmas should be, of what "The Holidays"  should be like, and the pathetic fascination with "ugly sweaters," are oftentimes at odds with the lived experiences of many people, setting them up for disappointment and a sense of hollowness that recalls the sad Peggy Lee song, 'Is That All There Is?'

 

But, the celebration of the Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord, when we attend to the readings, the liturgies, the chants and the familiar hymns reflects our lived reality no matter what it might be at that moment. The Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord is never at odds with our experience of the past, our experience in the present, or those of a time yet to come. That is because it is a feast that is both human and divine,  joyful and fraught with sorrow, peaceful and tinged with fear.  

 

O pridite molimo Jezusa

 

Norman Rockwell,  Hallmark cards and movies, and the dreadful 24/7 Christmas music stations have it all wrong.  The expectations of many Americans for Christmas are unrealistic and at times excessive. But it needn’t be that way.  The Feast of the Nativity allows us to come to a deeper understanding of the Father's love for us and a fuller awareness  of Jesus’ saving act. 

 

让我们齐来朝他主基督!

 

The contemplation on Jesus' birth from the "Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius"  helps us focus on the reality and the very difficult human dimensions of the Nativity, dimensions that are sometimes lost under layers of angels, halos, and heavenly strains.

 

The contemplation begins with a prelude in which Ignatius instructs: “Imagine Our Lady, about nine months with child, seated on a donkey, set out from Nazareth.  She was accompanied by Joseph . . .They are going to Bethlehem to pay the tribute that Caesar imposed on those lands.”  Imagine the effort demanded of Mary and Joseph as they made that journey. 

 

The ninety-mile journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem was not easy.  Despite sentimental depictions of the couple in silhouette with Joseph leading the donkey carrying Mary and  guided only by a star; traveling alone in the vastness of the universe, no couple would have ventured that kind of travel without the protection of a caravan.  As a caravan could cover no more than twenty-five miles a day the journey would have taken a minimum of four days and, more likely, up to a week. 

 

The second prelude instructs us to consider the challenges of that journey.  “See in your imagination the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem.  Consider its length and breadth; whether it was level or through valleys and over hills.  Observe the place where Christ was born, whether big or little; whether high or low."  Imagine the stress of the travel and the greater stress of being in labor surrounded by animals and the usual filth of a barn. 

 

Ó vinde, adoremos Cristo é o Senhor.

 

After the two preludes Ignatius gives three points for contemplation.

 

First:  See the persons; Our Lady, Joseph and the Child Jesus after His birth.  And say to yourself, “I will make myself a servant, and, as though present, look at them; contemplate them and serve them in their needs with reverence.”  Ignatius could have added " with awe and amazement." 

 

Second:  Consider what they are saying.  What are Joseph and Mary saying to each other?  Are others present?  What are they saying?  

 

Third:  Consider what they are doing.  Given the presence of a newborn in their midst, I would guess there is quite a lot going on.

 

Then Ignatius adds the key element of the meditation, an element we cannot forget:  “They made the journey and labored that our Lord might be born . . . and that after many labors and hunger, after suffering thirst, heat, and cold, and enduring insults and outrages, that Our Lord might die on the cross.  And do so for me.”

 

We cannot afford to forget that Jesus' birth is not the end of a story, that it is not a stand-alone moment in history. unrelated to the prophecies that preceded it or the events that followed.  We cannot afford to forget that Jesus would go on to live just as we do. He would come to know suffering, both physical suffering and the suffering of rejection by others just as we experience it in our lives.

 

Venite adoremus  Dominum

 

Many  important  theological statements have been made not by academics writing impenetrable jargon and syntax as they agonize over Greek consonants and wonder whether or not Jesus is just a metaphor.  They have been made by men and women who didn’t just talk the talk; they walked the walk, they did the heavy lifting.  

 

One of them was the late Dag Hammarskjöld, third Secretary General of the U.N. who was murdered  in a mysterious plane crash while negotiating peace in what was then the Congo.   A manuscript published under the title Markings, was found only after his death and published posthumously. Hammarskjöld captured the entire history of our salvation in a haiku, just twelve simple words, a mere seventeen syllables: 

 

On Christmas Eve, Good Friday

Was foretold them

In a trumpet fanfare

                                    

            

The Gloria in Excelsis Deo we sing today would be meaningless if it did not lead to the Alleluia, He is Risen of Easter  

 

Oh come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord. 

_____________________________________________________

The photos are from Campion Center in Weston, MA location of the province infirmary, assisted living, and  a few other activities.  I was minister there for a few years.  Exquisite place.  In a rare hat trick I made first vows in front of the altar, celebrated first Mass behind it, and pronounced final vows kneeling, once again, in front of the altar. 

A Blessed Christmas and Happy New Year. 

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

And blessed in the fruit of thy womb: Homily for the 4th Sunday of Advent

Lk 1:39-45

 

The days are moving fast, like the cinematic device of pages dropping off a calendar so as to show the rapid passing of time.  Tonight we will already pray the third of the seven "O Antiphons" 

 

O Radix Jesse, 

qui stas in signum populorum . . .

 

"O Root of Jesse,
you have been raised up as a sign for all peoples;
kings stand silent in your presence;
nations bow down in worship before you.
Come, let nothing keep you from coming to our aid.

 

The tone of the readings is shifting to one of barely contained joy as they recall that the promises of old were fulfilled: "from you shall come forth one who is to be ruler in Israel; whose origin is from of old, from ancient times."  We heard Jesus' genealogy two days ago. That long list of sometimes difficult names is a reminder that He, who was present before the beginning of time, entered, fully God and fully man, into time and space. Soon we will recall and celebrate that Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary, was born into this same earth on which we walk, work and relax, pray and struggle, like us in all things but sin. Today's gospel, Mary's visitation to Elizabeth is singled out for meditation as one of the joyful mysteries in the rosary, as well as a contemplation in the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius.

 

Ignatian contemplation engages one's full imagination with a short passage from the Gospel to focus the contemplation.  Each exercise involves preparatory steps or preludes followed by three points for meditation.  

 

The first prelude for the Visitation calls for meditation on the overall narrative.  Mary has been told that she is to be the Mother of Our Lord.  She hastens to visit Elizabeth.  She is probably still taken aback by the angel's message.  Nonetheless, she sets out on the 90-mile journey to the hill country of Judah.  

 

The second prelude considers the place and the setting for the narrative. Today's gospel supplies few details,  thus allowing one's imagination free rein.  Imagine the travel from Bethlehem to the Hill Country.  Was the road smooth or rocky, wide or narrow? How steep were the hills?  What was Mary carrying with her?   How was she dressed?  (I suspect she was not dressed in blue watered silk with seed pearls and rhinestones.)  It is certain that she made the five or six day journey in caravan with others and not alone. And then she arrived at her destination.  

 

What did Elizabeth's home look like?  Was it large or small?  Were there many windows?  How was it furnished? Is the atmosphere hot or cold, dry or damp?  Were there aromas of cooking food? 

 

Enter the scene as if you were stepping from your seat in a theater into the action on a stage or screen.  Once the scene has been composed in as much detail as you would like or need move on to the three points for meditation. 

 

First: when Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, John leapt in her womb, and Elizabeth replied, "Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb." 

 

The second meditation is Mary's Magnificat, 

 

Magnificat anima mea Dominum;

Et exultavit spiritus meus in Deo salutari meo,

 

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, 

My spirit rejoices in God my savior" 

 

The third meditation considers Mary remaining with Elizabeth for three months before making her 90-mile return journey. During my two long retreats, the first in winter 1998 at Gloucester, MA as a novice and thirteen years afterwards as a tertian in Australia, this meditation was all-consuming, perhaps because it is so human and thus easy to identify with. Many questions on this third point consumed my attention.  

 

Both women were first time mothers; one was young and the other somewhat older. Both pregnancies were unexpected. Both pregnancies were miraculous, each in its own way.  What did they talk about over their three months together?  How did they sound?  Besides the usual daily tasks, how did they occupy their time?

 

Trappist priest, poet, and writer Thomas Merton described this exquisite mystery in his reflection on the contemplative vocation titled: "The Quickening of John the Baptist" that reads in part: 

 

"The day Our Lady, full of Christ,

Entered the dooryard of her relative

Did not her steps, light steps, 

lay on the paving leaves like gold?

 

Did not her eyes as grey as doves

Alight like the peace of a new world 

upon that house, upon miraculous Elizabeth?

 

Her salutation

Sings in the stone valley like a Charterhouse bell:

And the unborn saint John

Wakes in his mother’s body,

Bounds with the echoes of discovery."

 

Tomorrow we will move one step closer to the celebration of the Great Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord as we pray the fourth of the O Antiphons.

 

O Clavis David

veni, et educ vinctum de domo carceris, 

sedentem in tenebris, 

et umbra mortis.

 

O Key of David, . . . 

come, break down the prison walls of death 

for those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death. 

_______________________________________

Photos from St. Martin d'Ainay in Lyon,  France.  One of the oldest churches in Lyon it was part of an 8th century Benedictine Abbey.  

There was some sort of ceremony happening while I was there.  The chandelier in magnificent. 

The iron work on the baptistry gate in extraordinary. 

Window overlooking the organ.  The colors of the glass were very intense. 

Altar to Mary.  

Europen churches have chairs rather than pews.  

The Organ

Off to the Abbey of Regina Laudis to celebrate the Christmas liturgies from 23 to 27 December.  

+Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

Gaudete, Rejoice: Homily for the 3rd Sunday of Advent

Zep 3:14-18a

Phil 4:4-7

Lk 3:10-18

 

Gaudete in Domino semper, 

iterum dice gaudete.  

Dominus enim prope est. 

 

“Rejoice in the Lord always; 

again I say rejoice!  

The Lord is near.”  

 

Gaudete, the first word of the entrance antiphon means “rejoice.”   It gives this 3rd Sunday of Advent its traditional name: Gaudete Sunday.  Along with Laetare Sunday during Lent, this is one of the two Sundays of the liturgical year on which priests have the option of wearing either purple vestments or, ideally, the dusty rose vestments--not Pepto-Bismol pink-- that visually hint at the joy that is to come. Advent is now more than half over.

 

We begin to rejoice because in the words of the antiphon we know:  Dominus enim prope est:  The Lord is near.  The Lord is very near.  

 

We rejoice because Jesus was born in the same way we were, and into same world in which we live and breathe. He walked upon the same earth on which we work and relax, rejoice and mourn.  Fully human, Jesus knew cold and heat, hunger and thirst, the feel of the earth under His feet and the feel of gentle breezes caressing His skin.  We celebrate  because Jesus walked this same planet, fully divine and fully human, like us in all things but sin.  We rejoice because through his incarnation, birth, life, passion, death, resurrection, and ascension to the Father, through the entire arc of his life, not just his birth taken in isolation, Jesus brought us forgiveness of sin and opened the gates to eternal life.  

 

The readings highlight the rejoicing for this Sunday. Zephaniah tells us:

 

"Be glad and exult with all your heart . . .The LORD has removed the judgment against you . . .the King of Israel, the LORD, is in your midst,"

 

When the judgment against us was removed eternal life was opened for us.  The responsorial psalm confirms what we know:

 

"My strength and my courage is the LORD,

and he has been my savior.

With joy you will draw water

at the fountain of salvation."

 

The Lord has been my savior. The Lord is my savior. The Lord will be my savior.  Always and forever.

 

Paul is direct in his letter to the Philippians.

"Brothers and sisters:

Rejoice in the Lord always.

I shall say it again: rejoice!"

 

Our rejoicing will increase over the coming days until the Gloria in Excelsis Deo of Christmas explodes throughout the known universe and travels beyond it. Seven days before the vigil of Christmas, the Church’s anticipatory joy will enter another phase as we chant or recite the first of the seven ancient “O Antiphons” that introduce Luke's canticle:

 

"Magnificat anima mean . . . "

 

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord 

My spirit rejoices in God my savior."

 

The first antiphon will introduce Mary's Canticle on Friday:

 

"O sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodiisti, 

attingens a fine usque ad fine, 

fortiter suaviterque disponens omnis:

veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae." 

 

“O Wisdom, O holy Word of God.  

You govern all creation with strong yet tender care. 

Come and show your people the way to salvation.”   

 

The final antiphon on December 23 celebrates Emmanuel, God with us:

 

“O Emmanuel, king and lawgiver, 

desire of the nations, 

Savior of all people, 

come and set us free, Lord our God.” 

 

If  you were write the O Antiphons in a column from the first to the last and then read the first letter of the word following the O from bottom to top you get a Latin anagram:  Ero Cras which translates as "tomorrow I will be," "tomorrow I will be there," "tomorrow I will come."  These antiphons are the basis for the hymn O Come O Come Emmanuel.

 

The Messiah was foretold by the prophets of the Old Testament.  He was announced by John the Baptist, an Old Testament prophet who bridges the Old Covenant and the New.  John the Baptist of whom we heard in the Gospel, who exhorted the people, and preached to them the Good News.

 

The time of waiting is coming to an end.  Only one more Sunday stands between us and the great Feast of the Nativity of the Lord. Expectant waiting will be replaced by unfettered joy. Ero Cras will come to fulfillment. 

 

Gaudete in Domino semper,

iterum dice gaudete.  

Dominus enim prope est. 

____________________________________________________

Every day the canticle for lauds (morning prayer) is the Canticle of Zechariah, which he recited after his tongue was loosed.  In the last stanza we hear: 

"In the tender compassion of our God, 

the dawn from on high shal break upon us 

to shine of those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, 

and to guide out feet in the way of peace."

These lines invariably come to mind when I am able to get out with the camera before sunrise.  

Cohasset, MA

Seven Mile Beach, Gerreoa, NSW, Australia

Port Lincoln, South Australia.

Washington, D.C. 

+ Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

 

Immaculate Conception

 December 8: The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary celebrates the dogma that Mary was conceived free of the stain of original sin. The Immaculate Conception remains a holy day of obligation requiring attendance at Mass. Will celebrate out in Framingham tomorrow morning.

Rather than a homily in words it seems reasonable to give on in photos taken in the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception on the campus of the Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C. I've shot a lot of photos there. The ones here are all from my last visit there in November of 2019 when I celebrated Mass for the Slovenian community.

The Shrine is the largest Catholic Church in North America and one of the largest in the world. The upper church seats 6000 and the lower 4000. There are around 82 chapels, all dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. Many of them are ethnic having been built with the donations of individuals, parishes, and organizations. A number of them are from Eastern and Central Europe. Despite its vast size the acoustics are very good, particularly when compared against the echo time in the National Cathedral (Episcopal) on Wisconsin Ave.

Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord: Homily for the 2nd Sunday of Advent

 Baruch 5:1-9

Ps 126

Phil 1:4-6,8-11

Lk 3:1-6

 

A favorite memory from my time Temple Medical School was the night six of us scrounged together enough money for dinner at a restaurant in Center City Philadelphia after which we walked to the Forrest Theater to see "Godspell" a rock musical that had opened on Broadway in 1971.  Godspell is subtitled, “A Musical Based  Upon the Gospel According to St. Matthew.”  It was quite a romp.  Though was later made into a movie I much prefer the play. Today’s readings bring back the memory the joyful opening number.  

 

After blowing the shofar the John the Baptist character intones the words, “Prepare ye the way of the Lord” which he intones several times. Then the instruments kick in along with the cast singing.  The command to prepare the way of the Lord morphs into a celebratory and very energetic production number.  The joy in the music was and is infectious.  The joy in the reading from Baruch is similarly infectious.

 

Baruch is a small book of uncertain provenance that is canonical for the Catholic Church but considered apocryphal by Jews and Protestants. The author described the return of the exiles to Jerusalem in exquisite poetic images.  Led by the Lord, Jerusalem will welcome them back to enjoy a new era of prosperity and peace.  That joyful return however, will require preparation and a change of heart; it will require a conversion.  It will require preparing the way. 

 

Paul prays for that kind of conversion in his Letter to the Philippians when he writes, “that your love may increase ever more and more. . . to discern what is of value.” That discernment is increasingly complicated in this modern world of competing values.   But, what better way to prepare for the coming of the Lord than to look into ourselves in prayer to discern the values that guide our hearts?  

 

Luke's gospel describes a necessary element of that preparation, John the Baptist.

 

The degree of John’s kinship with Jesus is unclear.  Luke’s magnificent first chapter described the first encounter between John and Jesus, “. . . and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit cried out in a loud voice and said ‘Most Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb.  And how does this happen to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?  For the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the infant in my womb leapt for joy.”  

 

Who was this herald known as John?  

In some art work, avant-garde movies, and whacked-out novels, John is oftentimes depicted as somewhere between drugged out hippie and a wild-eyed lunatic who dressed in animal skins and ate a diet that, by modern standards, would be considered inedible, except by the fat guy on the Food Channel who ate bizarre foods for a living. 

 

Fortunately, we have credible testimony about John from a variety of contemporary sources.  Luke’s Gospel, in particular, situates John’s appearance around A.D. 27.  In addition to being attested in all four Gospels,  John is mentioned in the Antiquities of Josephus, an historian who lived from about A.D. 37 to 100.  He wrote the following about John: “He was a good man and had exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, to practice justice toward their fellows and piety toward God, and in so doing to join in baptism. . . (a baptism that) was a necessary preliminary if baptism  was to be acceptable to God."  Josephus went on to explain that baptism was not to be used so as to gain pardon for whatever sins an individual committed, but as a consecration of the body because the soul was already thoroughly cleansed by right behavior.  

 

John’s non-PETA approved mode of dressing was no different from that of any other desert dweller.  The animal skins were necessary during cold desert nights.  His diet had nothing to do with radical vegetarianism, veganism, low-fat, or other fads.  His diet was driven by the much more prosaic need to maintain ritual purity of his diet.  His dress and diet are irrelevant during this holy season. His message, however, is as relevant to us today as it was to the ancient Judeans, both those who sought him out and those whom he criticized. 

 

As Josephus noted, he “exhorted the Jews to lead righteous lives, to practice justice toward their fellows and piety toward God.”  Justice toward one's fellows and piety toward God.  What better way to prepare the way of the Lord?  

 

Truly, the Lord has done great things for us.  Let us be filled with joy as we prepare His way.  

______________________________

I set the alarm for 2 AM today so as to watch the consecration and installation of Stephen Chow, SJ as Bishop of Hong Kong.  Even though I feel as if I've been hit by a truck (it is now 1 PM) it was worth it.  The photos below are screen shots taken during the live stream of the ordination from Hong Kong.  I know Stephen a bit as we lived in the same large community in Cambridge years ago.  

The decree being read in both Cantonese and English

Prostration during the litany of the saints

Prostrations.

Laying on of hands

The Book of the Gospels

The Book of Gospels held open over his head, this is unique to  the ordination of a bishop

Anointing with chrism

The Episcopal Ring

Consecration

Final blessing

Formal portrait

+ Fr. Jack, SJ, MD

O Come O Come Emmanuel: Homily for the First Sunday of Advent

Jer 33;14-16  

Ps 25

1 Thes 3:12-4-2

Lk 21:25-28, 34-36

 

"Veni, veni, Emmanuel

captivum solve Israel."

 

O come, o come Emmanuel

and ransom captive Israel.

 

The ancient advent hymn has been recorded, rerecorded, arranged, and bowdlerized many times.  I put  "O Come Emmanuel" into Google and got an impressive 70 million hits.  Adding the word 'lyrics' resulted in a more reasonable 13 million hits.  Upon adding 'Latin' the result was a manageable 1.2 million hits,  a mere afternoon of research.   

 

"Veni, veni, Emmanuel

captivum solve Israel."

 

Benedict XVI explains the meaning of Advent succinctly in his short book of meditations titled, Benedictuswhere he wrote that Advent derives from the Latin roots 'ad'  and 'venire', meaning 'to come to' or 'to come toward.'  He explained that advent is the translation of the Greek word parousia which means 'presence,' but even more specifically means 'arrival.'  Thus Advent is a time of anticipation and preparation for the arrival of the Savior of the World, the King of the Universe, Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary. 

 

When we are expecting another to come to us, his presence influences our actions well before he arrives.  Consider our recent Thanksgiving celebrations. Menus were chosen with the hope that the guests would like the food.  The table was prepared with care.  The special fluted dish for the cranberry sauce was washed and dried by hand.  Even mundane tasks were completed under an advent influence preparing for the those who were coming toward our table.  

 

The readings, prayers, and liturgies of Advent prepare us to celebrate Jesus coming into the world. The advent wreathe is a visual reminder of the progress of Advent.  The purple vestments and omission of the Gloria at Mass reminds us of the penitential nature of the season.  The apocalyptic warnings in Luke's Gospel remind us that we, the earth, and the universe will all perish no matter how conscientiously we recycle or hold public demonstrations protesting whatever.  All that lives must die.  There is no way around that.  

 

"Veni, veni, Emmanuel

captivum solve Israel."

 

A new Church year begins today. We all savor new beginnings because they give us second chances for a secular-type of redemption.  Thus, New Year's resolutions, birthday wishes, the optimism that "I am going to get it right this year" that greeted Septembers when we were kids.  All of us seem to need a starting line or starting date for attempts at change.  Advent is one of those beginnings.  It can be a time of renewed hope and optimism.  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 liturgical year that begins today or the new calendrical year that begins on January 1. The only change we can hope for is the change we initiate within our hearts.  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, sometimes contradictory 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 awake and alert because we do not know the time.  Uncertainty is among the most uncomfortable of situations for humans beginning in infancy.  The usual uncertainty of life is being exacerbated in this present reality of not knowing what is going on during this pandemic not knowing what is coming next or wondering exactly what we are fighting against. The questions can be formulated in many ways.  It has never been otherwise in the history of the world. 

 

Uncertainty drives anxiety.  A patient fears the diagnosis while awaiting the biopsy.  It seems counterintuitive but even a bad diagnosis may relieve a patient's anxiety, at least for a while, by giving a name to what had been an unknown.  Upon having a name for it we can begin to formulate battle plans, develop coping mechanisms, or discern how to respond.  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 has not been comforting to anyone. 

 

As advent progresses toward the Great Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord we will hear readings reminding us that which is to come.    

 

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 His coming.  The Gospel will speak of the Annunciation to Mary on the fourth Sunday and we will hear again the words of her fiat, words that changed the history and nature of the universe once and forever.

 

Ecce ancilla Domini,

Fiat mihi 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 Advent it is crucial to recall that, despite pressure from advertisers, social custom, and an increasingly religious-hostile 

establishment, advent is not a time of preparation for a holiday that "is for children."  We are preparing for a Holy Day, a holy day that is for all mankind from the youngest to the oldest, the healthy and the infirm, the child in the womb and the end-stage Alzheimer's patient in a wheelchair.  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. We are preparing to recall the birth of one who was like us in all things but sin, who became man to ransom us from sin and save us from death.  

 

This is the only reason that on this First Sunday of Advent we can sing.

 

Veni, Veni Emmanuel!


Captivum solve Israel! 

___________________________________________________

Jesuit Chapel in St. Mary's Hall at Boston College

Mother and Child