If we knew, in four weeks,
Jesus would return, how would we prepare? What would we do differently? Would
we even do anything differently?
Those are the questions that this season of Advent invites us to ask, because it challenges us to think not in terms of a season to get through before Christmas, but a time to reflect and to prepare our hearts for a coming that has already occurred and one that prepares us for the Second Coming of Christ. In fact, the word “Advent” is derived from the Latin word “Adventus” which simply means “coming.”
So, that this season is a season to prepare for Christ’s arrival, and while He was already born in a manger over 2,000 years ago, we celebrate that arrival, by creating the same environment of anticipation that existed before His birth. In essence, we intentionally place ourselves in a state of longing and expectation looking forward to that time when, indeed, Christ will come again.
In fact, every single thing within the Church marks this change and anticipation, the priest and deacons wear dark purple, a royal purple, to symbolize what was known in the ancient world, that purple was a sign of royalty and a sign of penance. The hymns become more solemn, more anticipatory and more subdued, which is why we exclude the Gloria, the triumphant hymn of the angels at Christ’s birth.
And, the wreath, the largest symbol, reminds us of eternity and immortality, for, as one priest once put it: “The laurel signifies victory over persecution and suffering; pine, holly, and yew, immortality; and cedar, strength and healing. Holly...The prickly leaves remind us of the crown of thorns, and one English legend tells of how the cross was made of holly.
The circle of the wreath, which has no beginning or end, symbolizes the eternity of God, the immortality of the soul, and the everlasting life found in Christ. Any pine cones, nuts, or seedpods used to decorate the wreath also symbolize life and resurrection.” So, that the wreath, in its entirety, points to the life, passion, death and, indeed, resurrection of Christ, the Paschal Mystery.
And, all of this happens within four weeks, a symbol also of a long held tradition that each week represents a 1,000 years, to equal the 4,000 years from Adam and Eve until the birth of Christ.
What’s more, is that each week has a specific liturgical theme, as it were, this week is dedicated to the Second Coming, next week, St. John the Baptist, and the following week, while also dedicated in the readings to St. John the Baptist is also Gaudete or “Rejoice” Sunday, dedicated to the joy from the anticipation of our Savior and the final week is dedicated to Mary, the one from whom our Savior is born, the one who said “yes” in defiance of the our first mother Eve who said “no,” making Mary the New Eve and the very first tabernacle the world has ever known.
This is why the Church, in defiance of the world, invites us to pause, to pray and to focus on what truly matters, by giving us what, for many years was seen as a mini-Lent.
In fact, traditionally, from the Feast of St. Martin of Tours, on November 11th to Christmas, it used to be known as St. Martin’s Lent, and Advent, like Lent, was 40 days of fasting and abstinence.
The way Advent came to be, as it we have it now, is by the mixing of two forms of preparation, St. Martin’s Lent and the “Roman Advent,” a festive, non-penitential celebration in anticipation of the coming of our Savior.
Without getting into too much detail, in the 13th century a compromise was reached, so that the liturgy of the Romans was celebrated, while the penitential nature remained. Initially, it was believed that five Sundays would be celebrated, however, Pope Gregory VII cut it down to four.
Yet, this is the tension we experience even today, for within the Church, we feel this anticipation, but in the rest of the world, it is already a celebration, that is why as strange as it may seem for the Church to insert such a season within such a busy time, it invites us to remember what is truly important. In fact, I once read somewhere that: “Advent is often cast as the spiritual tonic for the secular emphasis of the season.”
Because the true gift we receive on Christmas won’t be wrapped in paper, but in swaddling clothes and the way we will receive Him will not be by running ourselves ragged, pulled in 50 different directions, but, instead, by spiritually preparing ourselves and allowing ourselves to stay awake when the world tries to drain us with an overdose of celebration, frenzy and discount deals.
To this day, I will never forget what I saw one night as I was driving. I was looking at and admiring all the Christmas lights and decorations, because it was nearly impossible not to, when I pulled up to a light and happened to notice a house that was a little darker than the others, on the porch, there was a purple cloth draped and there was a single spotlight pointing at a sign, and on the sign, there was a quote from Isaiah, and it simply said: “Comfort, Comfort, O My People.” And, in each window there was a single candle, there were no colorful lights, no Santas or Snowmen, just a purple cloth, a light and a sign.
And, it occurred to me that these people were not decorated for Christmas, instead, they were preparing for Christmas with quiet expectation and hope, and their decorations reflected that. There was a simplicity to it, the way there is a simplicity to the season of Advent, and that simplicity served as a reminder of what will happen, what eventually is going to happen and it visibly showed what that preparation truly means.
Therefore, like that house, let our souls, during this season of Advent, show that same state of readiness, clothed in a purple cloth, as it were, shining with the light of Christ, pointing to a simple sign, a sign of hope, a sign of peace, a sign that, indeed, Christ is coming and will be here soon.
Those are the questions that this season of Advent invites us to ask, because it challenges us to think not in terms of a season to get through before Christmas, but a time to reflect and to prepare our hearts for a coming that has already occurred and one that prepares us for the Second Coming of Christ. In fact, the word “Advent” is derived from the Latin word “Adventus” which simply means “coming.”
So, that this season is a season to prepare for Christ’s arrival, and while He was already born in a manger over 2,000 years ago, we celebrate that arrival, by creating the same environment of anticipation that existed before His birth. In essence, we intentionally place ourselves in a state of longing and expectation looking forward to that time when, indeed, Christ will come again.
In fact, every single thing within the Church marks this change and anticipation, the priest and deacons wear dark purple, a royal purple, to symbolize what was known in the ancient world, that purple was a sign of royalty and a sign of penance. The hymns become more solemn, more anticipatory and more subdued, which is why we exclude the Gloria, the triumphant hymn of the angels at Christ’s birth.
And, the wreath, the largest symbol, reminds us of eternity and immortality, for, as one priest once put it: “The laurel signifies victory over persecution and suffering; pine, holly, and yew, immortality; and cedar, strength and healing. Holly...The prickly leaves remind us of the crown of thorns, and one English legend tells of how the cross was made of holly.
The circle of the wreath, which has no beginning or end, symbolizes the eternity of God, the immortality of the soul, and the everlasting life found in Christ. Any pine cones, nuts, or seedpods used to decorate the wreath also symbolize life and resurrection.” So, that the wreath, in its entirety, points to the life, passion, death and, indeed, resurrection of Christ, the Paschal Mystery.
And, all of this happens within four weeks, a symbol also of a long held tradition that each week represents a 1,000 years, to equal the 4,000 years from Adam and Eve until the birth of Christ.
What’s more, is that each week has a specific liturgical theme, as it were, this week is dedicated to the Second Coming, next week, St. John the Baptist, and the following week, while also dedicated in the readings to St. John the Baptist is also Gaudete or “Rejoice” Sunday, dedicated to the joy from the anticipation of our Savior and the final week is dedicated to Mary, the one from whom our Savior is born, the one who said “yes” in defiance of the our first mother Eve who said “no,” making Mary the New Eve and the very first tabernacle the world has ever known.
This is why the Church, in defiance of the world, invites us to pause, to pray and to focus on what truly matters, by giving us what, for many years was seen as a mini-Lent.
In fact, traditionally, from the Feast of St. Martin of Tours, on November 11th to Christmas, it used to be known as St. Martin’s Lent, and Advent, like Lent, was 40 days of fasting and abstinence.
The way Advent came to be, as it we have it now, is by the mixing of two forms of preparation, St. Martin’s Lent and the “Roman Advent,” a festive, non-penitential celebration in anticipation of the coming of our Savior.
Without getting into too much detail, in the 13th century a compromise was reached, so that the liturgy of the Romans was celebrated, while the penitential nature remained. Initially, it was believed that five Sundays would be celebrated, however, Pope Gregory VII cut it down to four.
Yet, this is the tension we experience even today, for within the Church, we feel this anticipation, but in the rest of the world, it is already a celebration, that is why as strange as it may seem for the Church to insert such a season within such a busy time, it invites us to remember what is truly important. In fact, I once read somewhere that: “Advent is often cast as the spiritual tonic for the secular emphasis of the season.”
Because the true gift we receive on Christmas won’t be wrapped in paper, but in swaddling clothes and the way we will receive Him will not be by running ourselves ragged, pulled in 50 different directions, but, instead, by spiritually preparing ourselves and allowing ourselves to stay awake when the world tries to drain us with an overdose of celebration, frenzy and discount deals.
To this day, I will never forget what I saw one night as I was driving. I was looking at and admiring all the Christmas lights and decorations, because it was nearly impossible not to, when I pulled up to a light and happened to notice a house that was a little darker than the others, on the porch, there was a purple cloth draped and there was a single spotlight pointing at a sign, and on the sign, there was a quote from Isaiah, and it simply said: “Comfort, Comfort, O My People.” And, in each window there was a single candle, there were no colorful lights, no Santas or Snowmen, just a purple cloth, a light and a sign.
And, it occurred to me that these people were not decorated for Christmas, instead, they were preparing for Christmas with quiet expectation and hope, and their decorations reflected that. There was a simplicity to it, the way there is a simplicity to the season of Advent, and that simplicity served as a reminder of what will happen, what eventually is going to happen and it visibly showed what that preparation truly means.
Therefore, like that house, let our souls, during this season of Advent, show that same state of readiness, clothed in a purple cloth, as it were, shining with the light of Christ, pointing to a simple sign, a sign of hope, a sign of peace, a sign that, indeed, Christ is coming and will be here soon.
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