First Sunday of Advent

The Crucifix at
St Meinrad Archabbey

...it is the hour now for you to awake from sleep.
For our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed;
the night is advanced, the day is at hand.

Winter is a great time to sleep. Out on the farm the roosters crow and the donkeys bray later in the morning. Long nights invite us to stay abed and wait for the sun to rise. In ancient times, before the advent of the light bulb, people in the temperate zones of the earth enjoyed their long, winter naps.

But medieval monks, eager to chant their psalms in praise of God and to finish all their chores, invented a gravity-powered device they called a clock. The word is German for bell, as in glockenspiel. The first clocks had neither face nor hands; they were designed to chime in the early hours of the morning, to waken the monks and call them to prayer. Their melodious sounding meant, “It is the hour now for you to awake from sleep.” It’s ironic that modern life is driven by the clock but the first clocks assisted prayer.

Advent invites us to consider the mystery of time. What is it all about? Why do I have time? How should I use my time? Some of us are living on borrowed time. I suffered a serious accident in 1993. Some people at the scene thought I would never make it to the hospital. I meet people in the hospital who just want more time; they realize their night is far advanced, the day is at hand. Others, to the very end, never understand they have run out of time; they just don’t believe it.

Advent invites us to pay attention to time. It is not unlimited; sometimes it runs out unexpectedly. Advent says, “Now is the acceptable time.”

Ceremonies, both secular and religious, remind us of time. If they have any meaning it’s because we stop what we’re doing to shake hands, to say “Good Morning!” to celebrate a birthday party or a Mass or Christmas. There is no future or past during a ceremony, there is only the present moment and our attention to it.

Ceremonies lead us into the eternally present. Christmas remembers last year’s Christmas and next year’s. It has roots in prehistoric and mythological times. What year is it when we celebrate Christmas? It doesn’t matter. The earth gave us Christmas with its clock-like orbit around the sun. Should the day come when humankind will disappear from the earth, Christmas Day will still come round.

Because of its eternal significance we bring enormous expectation to the holiday. It promises so much, more than we can receive in this world, and yet we want it all. We love Christmas but -- sinners that we are -- we make it complicated. We expect too much and want too much of a simple feast. Sometimes we smother it, as if we’re throwing logs onto a tiny flame and expecting it to burst into a bonfire. We’re often so busy preparing for Christmas that when it comes we’re glad it’s over.

To appreciate Christmas we have to recognize it as a gift. We cannot make it happen but we can receive it as it arrives. Because Christmas is a long awaited moment in time, we must sacrifice time in preparation for it. Doing good works is good; giving money to the needy is wonderful, but neither replaces spending time in God’s presence.  

Prepared as we are to take the time to prepare for Christmas, many of us find the Liturgy of the Hours especially rich and satisfying. Each year I love to hear the First Vespers antiphon: Proclaim the good news among the nations, our God will come to save us.

If you’ve not yet made your plans for how you will observe the Advent season, think about taking up the Liturgy of the Hours. It’s actually available on line, accessible to everyone.

Come let us worship.