Second Friday of Advent: Discerning Wisdom

"To what shall I compare this generation?...Wisdom is vindicated by her works." - Mt 11:16, 19

As a high school teacher, I wear many hats. Sometimes I'm a counselor consoling a newly broken-up young adult convinced he'll never love again. Other times I'm an anthropologist observing the adolescent Homo Sapiens in its native environment. Dian Fossey may have thought that Silverback gorillas were intense, but I can assure you that those gorillas have nothing on my friend's sixth period.

We have many conversations about "this generation" in this environment, reading studies that tell us that they are more self-centered and entitled than any other generation before us and hearing others say that no other generation has been more potentially creative, altruistic, and open to fellowship. As a generation, we face monumental opportunities and challenges - some ages old and others quite new - but I think that in many ways, we are a whole lot like generations past. 

In this Advent waiting, I hear in today's scripture an invitation to ask what currents of culture I contribute to...for good and/or for ill... and how I can challenge myself to look at what actions of mine have the ring of wisdom to them. As I read the Gospel, I also think of Jesus' example of those who whine about the praise they believe they are due as a counterpoint to the generosity of God but God is the one who has done so much for us. Throughout Scripture, we find examples of people - particularly in the Exodus as the people wandered in the desert from Egypt to the Promised Land - who seem to forget what God has done very quickly and make their complaint heard. 

Lord, help me recognize wisdom and become more attentive to its subtle influence. 

Reflected by Jason Coito

Second Thursday of Advent: Expectant Joy

The story of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe is a well known one. We have of course our main character, the young Juan Diego, climbing the hill of Tepeyac just outside Mexico City, only to be approached by a young girl asking him to build a church on the site. In order to convince the Bishop, she fills Juan Diego’s tilma with roses, which, when dropped before the feet of the Bishop, reveals a beautiful image of the expectant young mother of Christ, La Virgen de Guadalupe!

As I start my Advent journey, I am struck by this image of our Blessed Mother. She chose to reveal herself to Juan Diego in the midst of her pregnancy, and the Church, in turn, chooses to honor this moment during our second week of Advent. In sitting with this image, I am drawn towards the expectant joy of a young mother, preparing for the coming of new life within her. After saying “yes,” Mary experiences her own nine month “Advent.” She waits, patiently, not knowing what to expect, wondering what this birth will bring. But in all her worry, anxiety and confusion, she waits with expectant joy.

As a young adult, so much of my future seems hazy. Where is God calling me vocationally? What relationships does He want me to explore? Who am I being called to be? Yet, in the midst of my own worry, anxiety and confusion, I find an unusual comfort in the image of the Expectant Mother. In her waiting, she had joy in knowing that God’s plan was unfolding before her. Maybe I too, need to sit with that expectant joy, trusting that God’s plan is already at work before me, I just need to wait. 

Reflected by Regina Galassi

Second Wednesday of Advent: The Gracious Invitation

“Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” - Matthew 11:28-30

If God is our hope and strength, should we not trust enough to let go? Time and time again in our faith journey, I find the mantra ‘Let go and let God’ much easier to say than to carry out. Although simple in wording, we may find ourselves in situations unclear of what to let go. Other times, we may grip tightly to assumptions of what we might think is best. But in every case, we need to let go of our own will.

As we enter into the midst of Advent, Jesus invites us to ‘rest’ in Him...to take a moment and catch our breath, clear our eyes to see what is important, and make time to embrace the stillness of this season. He asks us to let go of our opinions, solutions, agenda, and anything holding us back from learning His unforced rhythm of grace

Burnout results from taking on more than we possibly could and walking at a much faster pace. Jesus offers His companionship as we become yoked to Him. The pressures and burden may not lessen, but our thoughts and responses may shift as we draw ourselves closer to Him. When we choose to walk and share our life with Jesus, freedom comes our way. God becomes present. And we begin to live. 

Lord, guide my heart’s homecoming in You again ...

Reflected by Tam Lontok

Second Tuesday of Advent: Getting Lost is Part of Coming Home

Jesus said to his disciples, “What is your opinion? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray, will he not leave the ninety-nine in the hills and go in search of the stray?” - Mt 18:12

I left home and the church at 19. At the time, it was an easy decision. I was young and foolish. In my teenage mind, my family was too strict. My uncle, who was like a father to me, passed away suddenly. I needed someone to blame; God was an easy target. I didn’t need anyone. I needed to prove that to myself.

It wasn’t long before I reconnected with my family, and they welcomed me back with open arms. The church was a different story. I was using my anger at God to mask the anger and disappointment I had in myself. I grew up with an image of God as a stern disciplinarian. He had a lengthy set of rules that my imperfect self could never live up to – not even close. I felt I wasn’t living up to His expectations of me. I wasn’t praying enough. Church on Sunday didn’t coincide with my Sunday plans. The list of excuses went on.

Over the span of 8 years, I visited many different religious houses hoping to find a home, to which there were none. I did find a common theme in all Christian denominations – God is forgiving. That realization stopped me in my tracks. Could it be? Could I have been wrong all this time? Could the stern father that I grew up with be loving, forgiving, and kind? I soon found myself on the steps of a Catholic church. I started attending church on Sundays every once in a while. Church was two blocks away from my apartment, and it was on the way to lunch. It was baby steps.

Still, I held God at arm’s length. I knew He was there, but I still didn’t think I was worthy enough to open to Him. Luckily, He had plans for me. He brought me home via a Caritas retreat. The joy that I felt coming home was indescribable. In my heart of hearts, I knew He has been searching for me all these years ready to welcome me home.

Lord, please guide my heart home to your love.

 

Reflected by Katherine Tran

Second Monday of Advent: Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary

“Hail, full of grace! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God”...Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” - Luke 1: 26-38

I try to imagine embodying Mary's response to being informed that her life as she understood it was going to change in such an unfathomable way. I imagine the look on her face as she processes what she is hearing. As illusions she harbored about what her future and family life would look like evaporate. As her dreams of life with her betrothed, Joseph, dissolve into uncertainty. As her understanding of herself and the world around her is unalterably released from the confines of her imagination and plunged into unknowing. A space Mary confronts with colossal bravery and acceptance, “May it be done to me according to your word.”

I'm struck by the passivity (acceptance without resistance) of her response, “May it be done to me...” She is willing to wait! What a concept. She is willing to follow the Spirit's lead, not lead with her will. She trusts God so deeply, so unreservedly. I contrast that with what is so often my response to God, “O uh uh, this isn't what I imagined, next idea please.” That, or I get my “To Do” list out and start achieving God's wishes without actually consulting God, but rather my pride or any number of other unfettered desires. 

Waiting would mean nixing my self determined agenda items and being still persistent enough to come to know God's will, trusting that the guidance will come, and releasing the need for it to happen at the hour I appoint. Honestly, just imagining such acceptance is uncomfortable for me let alone embodying it. And it makes me ever grateful for Our Lady's example of true freedom, the ability to rest in God's immeasurable love and faithfulness in the face of unimaginable uncertainty. A freedom anchored in a trust that makes traversing the darkness possible; a trust that is had simply from accepting and receiving the love of God, not through earning his Grace.

O Lord, release me from what prevents me from trusting fully in your love. Show me what you would have me know about what binds me. Help me to be free.

Reflected by Alma Morales Risse

Second Sunday of Advent: Invited to a Change of Mind and Heart

“I am baptizing you with water, for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is mightier than I. I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” – Mt 3:11

I did something nice for people in the past two days, which involved a sacrifice of time and energy. Yet, as I reflected afterwards, there emerged a greater invitation. I noticed that while I did it out of love for God and others, I felt more invited to “do with” and to “be with.” By contrast, being with my cousin Thy, her husband and two young boys, and our extended family during the last week of her life last December helped me to connect with God more. Even though there was more activity going on, I sensed myself being more present. I was “being with” beyond “doing for.”

Each Advent, the figure of John the Baptist calls us to prepare the way for someone greater in our lives. The repentance or “metanoia” he proclaimed involved a “change of mind and heart.” It consists of letting go, getting rid of, or clearing away something so that something greater can take place. This shift of mind and heart allows God’s Spirit to be more present and active in our lives. It enables us to let “the spirit of the LORD rest upon [us]” (Is 61:2). We become people “with others” as well as “for others”. We become more present.

This call to a “change of mind and heart” can seem daunting, a kind of baptism by fire. Yet, it has already begun. While we may feel some fear or self-pressure, the good news is that it’s already happening beyond us. God’s Spirit wants to be with us, to rest in us. It takes our simple “yes.”

How might we be invited today to be more present to others, to ourselves, and let God’s Spirit rest in us?

First Saturday of Advent: Feast Day of St. Ambrose

"Go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. As you go, make this proclamation: ‘The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.’  Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give." - Mt 10: 5a, 6-8
Today we celebrate St. Ambrose, a gifted speaker from 4th century Italy, and one of the four great Latin Doctors of the Church. He was elected bishop of Milan before he was even baptized. One of my favorite stories involves St. Ambrose, one of the greatest speakers in the city, and a young atheist and professor of rhetoric who began attending St. Ambrose's masses to scope out the competition. After months of mass attendance and years of his mother's prayers, the atheist asked to be baptized by St. Ambrose. The atheist's name? St. Augustine, one of the greatest theologians in the Church's 2,000 year history.

We begin today's readings with a passage of consolation from Isaiah. Isaiah assures us that God will give us all that we need and will comfort us in all distress. We are encouraged to trust in the Lord's ways: “This is the way; walk in it.” Likewise, the Gospel reading gives us a glimpse of the fulfillment of this in the ministry of Jesus. In this passage from Matthew, Jesus is proclaiming the Kingdom in all the area synagogues, healing and curing. He is moved to pity by the people's needs, "like sheep without a shepherd," so he sends the disciples out in his stead to cover the entire area and they cast out demons in his name and cure all disease. Such discipleship isn't without cost. Immediately after this passage, Jesus goes on and on that persecution is to be expected. But that is for another day's reading. Today we rejoice in the compassion of Christ and the Good News of his Kingdom.

In this season of Advent, am I filled with the joy of God's merciful promise - the coming of his Son and the dawning of his Kingdom? Do I spread that Good News to those in need, banishing their demons and ills? Christ has no hands, no feet, no voice but ours. Do we give ourselves over to his service, to share the joy to all?

Reflected by Michael Newhouse

First Friday of Advent: Feast of St. Nicholas

“I believe that I shall see the bounty of the Lord in the land of the living.” – Psalm 27:13

In these Advent weeks, we are overrun with images that can fill us with expectation about Christmas and the holiday season. In addition to commercials advertizing the latest and greatest technologies and gifts for the year, there are also images of what “perfect family” gatherings look like. As the Christmas cards and newsletters roll in, the temptation to focus on the ways our lives are lacking become even more pronounced. The holidays can be filled with profound experiences of gratitude and a sense of being loved. Yet, they can also be filled with anxiety over unpaid bills, expectations around gift giving, and stress over balancing various family obligations.

Today we celebrate the Feast of St. Nicholas, a fourth century bishop of Myra (in present day Turkey), who is best known for being at the root of many of our traditions around Santa Claus. St. Nicholas was well known for his love of God and God’s people, particularly the poor. Legends tell us that he saved a poor man’s three daughters from a life of prostitution by secretly providing for their dowries, even going so far as to drop the money down the chimney in order to avoid being identified. When I feel pressured to do so much as Christmas fast approaches, St. Nicholas is a wonderful reminder to pause and see the “bounty of the Lord in the land of the living.” St. Nicholas was not a bishop who looked for a Church of shoulds and perfection, but a servant who saw the real needs of the people around him and strived to meet them where he could.

By keeping our focus on God rather than on our own limitations, we remain open to how God invites us to respond more fully in our daily reality. Is there some way I am invited to offer a small gift of self-sacrifice or an anonymous act of generosity today in honor of St. Nicholas? Am I being moved to let go of some expectations this Advent in order to keep my focus more fully on God?

Reflected by Jen Coito

First Thursday of Advent: An Uncomfortable Truth

One night, when my youngest child was still learning her prayers, I sat on the edge of her bed while she said the Our Father. “Thy kingdom come, my will be done,” she prayed. I gently corrected her but thought her innocent mistake was packed with a whole lot of uncomfortable truth. How often do I say “thy will” without really meaning it? I’ve got my life all figured out. If only God would act according to my plan.

As I read the opening line of today’s Gospel, the memories of that bedtime prayer routine came rushing back, only this time I was the child in need of guidance and gentle correc- tion. “Whoever does the will of my Father will enter the Kingdom of heaven,” Jesus tells his disciples, reminding them that not everyone who says they’ll do the Father’s will actually follows through on those good intentions.

We hear the words, and we know what we need to do to find joy that can never be shaken, but it’s too scary. It means giving up control, stepping out into the unknown, and so we build our lives on the sands of convenience, ease, and com- fort, only to watch it all collapse around us when the first storm hits.

Do we mean what we say when we pray? Are we listening with the ear of our heart? Only then can we begin to build a life grounded in faith and reaching toward heaven.

Reflected by Mary DeTurris Poust

Mary DeTurris Poust is the author of Everyday Divine: A Catholic Guide to Active Spirituality and several other books on Catholic spirituality. A columnist, blogger, and public speaker, she writes regularly atwww.notstrictlyspiritual.com

First Wednesday of Advent: Christ Moves Us to Love

“My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat... They all ate and were satisfied.” - Matthew 15:29-37

Some memories continue to stay with us and serve as a reminder of how we could live out our life going forward. I can never forget the last twenty minutes of my final grad course. My professor asked us to pull out a piece of paper and pencil in seven descriptions of how we would like to be remembered this lifetime. Not only did he share his list, but he left us with some thoughtful advice. He reminded us to turn on our blinkers and be mindful of the times where we may drive ahead. Most importantly, acknowledging those who allow us to pass through…our family, friends, coworkers, and those we come into contact.

Christmas is a time of giving and we may ask ourselves: To whom are we giving? The challenge of Advent is that we are often busy. Have we failed to notice the needs and hurts of others because we were too caught up in our own worries? Jesus understands and cares for us. He wants to give us more than we need. But He also encourages us to think with our hearts.

Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, entering into places of pain, brokenness, and fear. It involves the willingness to put ourselves in the shoes of others and taking the focus off ourselves. By recognizing the suffering and frustration of others and offering our support, we allow our hearts to open. As Mother Teresa reminds us, “We cannot do great things on this earth. We can only do small things with great love.”

Lord, help me where I am holding back. 

Reflected by Tam Lontok