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The focus of Advent is preparation for the coming of the Lord -- both in
commemoration of His Nativity and His coming again at the end of time. Though
most Protestants -- and far too many Catholics -- see this time of year as
a part of the "Christmas Season," it isn't; the Christmas season does not
begin until the first Mass at Christmas Eve, and doesn't end liturgically
until the Octave of the Epiphany on January 14. It goes on in the spiritual
sense until Candlemas on February 2, when all celebrations of Christ's Childhood
give way to Septuagesima and Lent.
The mood of this season is one of somber spiritual preparation that
increases in joy with each day, and the gaudy "Christmas" commercialism that
surrounds it in the Western world should be overcome as much as possible.
The singing of Christmas carols (which comes earlier and earlier each year),
the talk of "Christmas" as a present reality, the decorated trees and the
parties -- these things are "out of season" for Catholics; we should strive
to keep the Seasons of Advent holy and penitential, always remembering, as
they say, that "He is the reason for the Season."
To sum
up the similarities and differences between Advent and Lent as penitential
seasons, there's this, by Fr. Lawrence Smith, from the Remnant Newspaper,
15 December 2003:
Advent is the time
to make ready for Christ to live with us. Lent is the time to make us ready
to die with Christ. Advent makes Lent possible. Lent makes salvation possible.
Advent is the time when eternity approaches earth. Lent is the time when
time reaches consummation in Christ's eternal Sacrifice to the Father. Advent
leads to Christ's life in time on earth. Lent leads to Christ's eternal Life
in Heaven. The Cross -- through the Mass, penance, and mortification -- is
the bridge connecting Advent and Lent, Christ and His Church, man and God.
Each of the Church's penitential seasons is a dying to the world with the
goal of attaining new life in Christ.
Catholic apologist
Jacob Michael wrote something very interesting about how secular America
sees "Christmas" as beginning after Thanksgiving and ending on 25 December,
and then makes "New Years Resolutions" at the beginning of the secular year:
...what Christians
do (or should be doing!) during Advent and leading up to Christmas is a
foreshadowing of what they will do during the days of their lives that lead
up to the Second Coming; what non-Christians refuse to do during Advent,
and put off until after Christmas, is precisely a foreshadowing of what they
will experience at the Second Coming.
We Christians are to prepare for the Coming of Christ before He actually
comes -- and that Coming is symbolized and recalled at Christmas. Non-Christians
miss this season of preparation, and then scramble for six days after the
25th to make their resolutions. By then, however, it's too late -- Christmas
has come and gone, Our Lord has already made His visitation to the earth,
and He has found them unprepared. This is precisely what will take place
at the Second Coming, when those who have put off for their entire lives
the necessary preparations will suddenly be scrambling to put their affairs
in order. Unfortunately, by then it will have been too late, and there will
be no time for repentance. The Second Coming will be less forgiving than
the Incarnation. There will be no four-week warning period before the Second
Coming, like we get during Advent. There will be no six-day period of grace
after the Second Coming during which to make resolutions and self-examination,
like the secular world does from Dec. 26 until Jan. 1.
So please, restore
Advent and don't think "Christmas is here" until it truly comes. One way
to help focus on the theme of preparation is to read the
parables of The Fig Tree, The Man Going on a
Long Journey, The Faithful and Wicked Stewards, and The Ten Virgins in the
24th and 25th chapters of St. Matthew's Gospel. Another way to help you do
this is to think of the Saint who embodies the spirit of this Season more
than any other: the great St. John
the Baptist. If you have an icon of him, venerate it especially now.
Make special prayers to him and consider the message of this "voice of one
crying in the desert": "Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight his
paths." You will note that the readings of the second, third, and fourth
Sundays of Advent focus on St. John, the earthly herald of Christ's coming
whom St. Ephraem likened to the Star of Bethlehem, the Heavenly herald of
His coming.
St. Ephraem also
wrote these words which recall the Forerunner's message of preparation:
To prevent his
disciples from asking the time of his coming, Christ said: About that hour
no one knows, neither the angels nor the Son. It is not for you to know times
or moments. He has kept those things hidden so that we may keep watch, each
of us thinking that he will come in our own day. If he had revealed the time
of his coming, his coming would have lost its savour: it would no longer
be an object of yearning for the nations and the age in which it will be
revealed. He promised that he would come but did not say when he would come,
and so all generations and ages await him eagerly. Though the Lord has
established the signs of his coming, the time of their fulfilment has not
been plainly revealed. These signs have come and gone with a multiplicity
of change; more than that, they are still present. His final coming is like
his first. As holy men and prophets waited for him, thinking that he would
reveal himself in their own day, so today each of the faithful longs to welcome
him in his own day, because Christ has not made plain the day of his coming.
He has not made it plain for this reason especially, that no one may think
that he whose power and dominion rule all numbers and times is ruled by fate
and time. He described the signs of his coming; how could what he has himself
decided be hidden from him? Therefore, he used these words to increase respect
for the signs of his coming, so that from that day forward all generations
and ages might think that he would come again in their own day.
Keep watch; when the body is asleep nature takes control of us, and what
is done is not done by our will but by force, by the impulse of nature. When
deep listlessness takes possession of the soul, for example, faint-heartedness
or melancholy, the enemy overpowers it and makes it do what it does not will.
The force of nature, the enemy of the soul, is in control.
When the Lord commanded us to be vigilant, he meant vigilance in both parts
of man: in the body, against the tendency to sleep; in the soul, against
lethargy and timidity. As Scripture says: Wake up, you just, and I have risen,
and am still with you; and again, Do not lose heart.
Temporal Preparations
Advent is also
season of preparation in a more mundane sense. Homes are cleaned from top
to bottom, and Christmas cookies and cakes are often made by the hundreds,
for family and to give out to friends and aquaintances when Christmas finally
arrives.
Christmas trees shouldn't be decorated until Christmas Eve because Advent
itself should remain penitential, but time can be wonderfully spent making
Christmas Tree ornaments throughout the Season for when Christmas finally
arrives. Here is a recipe for Baker's Clay
which you can use to do just that.
Christmas Cards
Since Victorian
times, Catholics send Christmas cards at this time of year, always with religious
themes and avoiding the secularized language and images so prevalent today
(i.e., "Season's Greetings" as opposed to "Merry Christmas"; Santa or Rudolph
instead of Mother and Child, etc.) Always, the emphasis should be on Christ!
Real Christmas cards are getting more and more difficult to find; buying
them early from a Catholic Bookstore is a good idea. (By the way, "merry"
originally meant, and should mean to Catholics, "blessed and peaceful," not
party-like as in "merry-making." For ex., the carol, "God Rest Ye Merry,
Gentlemen" has a comma after the "merry" and addresses "gentlemen," not "merry
gentlemen." It means "God keep you peaceful and blessed, men!" And on another
note, the angel never said to the shepherds, "Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace, good will toward men" as the King James version
reads; he said, "Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace to men
of good will" (Luke 2:14) -- a vastly different sentiment that doesn't
lead to the false idea that there can be peace among ill-willed men. Please
avoid cards inscribed with the false, non-sensical rendering of the verse!)
At any rate, cards should be sent around two weeks before Christmas (around
the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe) to ensure they arrive in time. Cards
received are often displayed -- in albums, randomly on tables, or by fastening
them to ribbons which hang on a wall.
And as with the secularized "holiday" cards, Catholics should avoid greeting
people during this season with "Happy holidays!" and the like. "Merry Christmas"
is the proper greeting -- and if one wants to get technical about it, Catholics
should say "Blessed Advent" up until the first Mass on Christmas Eve, and
"Merry Christmas" thereafter for the twelve days of Christmas (until the
Feast of the Epiphany on 6 January). People might not understand, but this
affords you an opportunity to explain.
Other Customs
Advent
candles, Jesse Trees,
Christmas cribs, and
Advent calendars are all used during Advent
and each is described on its own page, but one particular Advent custom that
should be mentioned here and which families might want to consider beginning
on Advent Sunday is known as "Christkindl" (Christ Child). Maria Von Trapp
describes it thus:
Once more the mother
appears with the bowl, which she passes around. This time the pieces of paper
contain the names of the members of the family and are neatly rolled up,
because the drawing has to be done in great secrecy. The person whose name
one has drawn is now in one's special care. From this day until Christmas,
one has to do as many little favors for him or her as one can. One has to
provide at least one surprise every single day — but without ever being
found out. This creates a wonderful atmosphere of joyful suspense, kindness,
and thoughtfulness. Perhaps you will find that somebody has made your bed
or shined your shoes or has informed you, in a disguised handwriting on a
holy card, that "a rosary has been said for you today" or a number of sacrifices
have been offered up. This new relationship is called "Christkindl" (Christ
Child) in the old country, where children believe that the Christmas tree
and the gifts under it are brought down by the Christ Child himself.
The beautiful thing about this particular custom is that the relationship
is a reciprocal one. The person whose name I have drawn and who is under
my care becomes for me the helpless little Christ Child in the manger; and
as I am performing these many little acts of love and consideration for someone
in the family I am really doing them for the Infant of Bethlehem, according
to the word, "And he that shall receive one such little child in my name,
receiveth me." That is why this particular person turns into "my Christkindl."
At the same time I am the "Christkindl" also for the one I am caring for
because I want to imitate the Holy Child and render all those little services
in the same spirit as He did in that small house of Nazareth, when as a child
He served His Mother and His foster father with a similar love and devotion.
Many times throughout these weeks can be heard such exclamations as, "I have
a wonderful Christkindl this year!" or, "Goodness, I forgot to do something
for my Christkindl and it is already suppertime!" It is a delightful custom,
which creates much of the true Christmas spirit and ought to be spread far
and wide.
Reading:
"The Mystery
of Advent"
from Dom Gueranger's "Liturgical Year"
If, having described
the characteristic features of Advent which distinguish it from the rest
of the year, we would penetrate into the profound Mystery which occupies
the mind of the Church during this season, we find that the Mystery of this
Coming, or Advent, of Jesus is at once simple and threefold. It is simple
for it is the one same Son of God that is coming; it is threefold because
He comes at three different times and in three different ways.
'In the first coming,' says St. Bernard, 'He comes in the flesh and in weakness;
in the second, He comes in spirit and power; in the third, He comes in glory
and majesty; and the second coming is the means whereby we pass from the
first to the third.'
This, then, is the mystery of Advent. Let us now listen to an explanation
of this threefold visit of Christ, given to us by Peter of Blois, in his
third sermon de Adventu: 'There are three comings of Our Lord; the
first in the flesh; the second in the soul; the third at judgment. The first
was at midnight according to the words of the Gospel: At Midnight there was
a cry made, Lo, the Bridegroom cometh! But this first coming is long since
past for Christ has been seen on the earth and has conversed among men. We
are now in the second coming, provided only we are such as that He may thus
come to us; for He has said that if we love Him, He will come to us and take
up His abode with us. So that this second coming is full of uncertainty for
us; for who, save the spirit of God, knows them that are of God? They that
are raised out of themselves by the desire of heavenly things, know indeed
when He comes, but whence He cometh or whither He goeth they know not. As
for the third coming, it is most certain that it will be, most uncertain
when it will be; for nothing is more sure than death, and nothing less sure
than the hour of death. When they shall say, peace and security, says the
apostle, then shall sudden destruction come upon them, as the pains upon
her that is with child, and they shall not escape. So that the first coming
was humble and hidden, the second is mysterious and full of love, the third
will be majestic and terrible. In His first coming, Christ was judged by
men unjustly; in His second, He renders us just by His grace; in His first,
a lamb; in His last, a lion; in the one between the two, the tenderest of
friends.'
The holy Church, therefore, during Advent, awaits in tears and with ardour
the arrival of her Jesus in His first coming. For this, she borrows the fervid
expressions of the prophets, to which she joins her own supplications. These
longings for the Messias expressed by the Church, are not a mere commemoration
of the desires of the ancient Jewish people; they have a reality and efficacy
of their own, an influence in the great act of God's munificence, whereby
He gave us His own Son. From all eternity, the prayers of the ancient Jewish
people and the prayers of the Christian Church ascended together to the prescient
hearing of God; and it was after the receiving and granting them, that He
sent, in the appointed time, that blessed Dew upon the earth, which made
it bud forth the
Savior.
The Church aspires also to the second coming, the consequence of the first,
which consists, as we have just seen, in the visit of the Bridegroom to the
bride. This coming takes place, each year, at the feast of Christmas, when
the new birth of the Son of God delivers the faithful from that yoke of bondage,
under which the enemy would oppress them. The Church, therefore, during Advent,
prays that she may be visited by Him who is her Head and her Spouse; visited
in her hierarchy; visited in her members, of whom some are living, and some
are dead, but may come to life again; visited, lastly, in those who are not
in communion with her, and even in the very infidels, that so they may be
converted to the true light, which shines even for them. The expressions
of the liturgy which the Church makes use of to ask for this loving and invisible
coming, are those which she employs when begging for the coming of Jesus
in the flesh; for the two visits are for the same object. In vain would the
Son of God have come, nineteen hundred years ago, to visit and save mankind,
unless He came again for each one of us and at every moment of our lives,
bringing to us and cherishing within us that supernatural life, of which
He and His holy Spirit are the sole principle.
But this annual visit of the Spouse does not content the Church; she aspires
after a third coming which will complete all things by opening the gates
of eternity. She has caught up the last words of her Spouse, 'Surely I am
coming quickly,' and she cries out to Him, 'Ah! Lord Jesus Come!' She is
impatient to be loosed from her present temporal state; she longs for the
number of the elect to be filled up, and to see appear, in the clouds of
heaven, the sign of her Deliverer and her Spouse. Her desires, expressed
by her Advent liturgy, go even as far as this: and here we have the explanation
of these words of the beloved disciple in his prophecy: 'The nuptials of
the Lamb are come, and His wife hath prepared herself.'
But the day of His last coming to her will be a day of terror. The Church
frequently trembles at the very thought of that awful judgment, in which
all mankind is to be tried. She calls it 'a day of wrath, on which, as David
and the Sibyl have foretold, the world will be
reduced to ashes; a day of weeping and of fear.' Not that she fears for herself,
since she knows that this day will for ever secure for her the crown, as
being the bride of Jesus; but her maternal heart is troubled at the thought
that, on the same day, so many of her children will be on the left hand of
that Judge, and havng no share with the elect, will be bound hand and foot,
and cast into the darkness, where there shall be everlasting weeping and
gnashing of teeth. This is the reason why the Church, in the liturgy of Advent,
so frequently speaks of the coming of Christ as a terrible coming, and selects
from the Scriptures those passages which are most calcualated to awaken a
salutary fear in the mind of such of her children as may be sleeping the
sleep of sin.
This, then, is the threefold mystery of Advent. The liturgical forms in which
it is embodied, are of two kinds: the one consists of prayers, passages from
the Bible, and similar formulae, in all of which, words themselves are employed
to convey the sentiments which we have been explaining; the other consists
of extermal rites peculiar to this holy time, which by speaking to the outward
senses, complete the expressiveness of the chants and words.
First of all, there is the number of the days of Advent. Forty was the number
originally adopted by the Church, and it is still maintained in the Ambrosian
liturgy, and in the eastern Church. If, at a later period, the Church of
Rome, and those which follow her liturgy, have changed the number of days,
the same idea is still expressed in the four weeks which have been substituted
for the forty days. The new birth of our Redeemer takes place after four
weeks, as the first nativity happened after four thousand years, according
to the Hebrew and Vulgate chronology.
As in Lent, so likewise during Advent, marriage is not solemnized, lest wordly
joy should distract Christians from those serious thoughts wherewith the
expected coming of the sovereign Judge ought to inspire them or from that
dearly cherished hope which the friends of the Bridegroom have of being soon
called to the eternal nuptial-feast.
The people are forcibly reminded of the sadness which fills the heart of
the Church, by the sombre colour of the vestments. Excepting on the feasts
of the saints, purple is the coulour she uses; the deacon does not wear the
dalmatic, nor the sub-deacon the tunic. Formerly it was the custom, in some
places, to wear black vestments. This mourning of the Church shows how fully
she unites herself with those true Israelites of old who, clothed in sack-cloth
and ashes, waited for the Messias, and bewailed Sion that she had not her
beauty, and Juda, that the sceptre had been taken from him, till He should
come who was to be sent, the expectation of nations. It also signifies the
works of penance, whereby she prepares for the second coming, full as it
is of sweetness and mystery, which is realized in the souls of men, in proportion
as they appreciate the tender love of that divine Guest, who has said: 'My
delights are to be with the children of men.' It expresses, thirdly, the
desolation of this bride who yearns after her Beloved, who is long a-coming.
Like the turtle dove, she moans her loneliness, longing for the voice which
will say to her: 'Come from Libanus, my bride! come and thou shalt be crowned.
Thou has responded to my heart.'
The Church also, during Advent, excepting on the feasts of saints, suppresses
the angelic canticle, Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus
bonae voluntatis; for this glorious song was sung at Bethlehem over the
crib of the divine Babe; the tongues of the angels are not loosened yet;
the Virgin has not yet brought forth her divine Treasure; it is not yet time
to sing, it is not even true to say, 'Glory be to God in the highest, and
peace on earth to men of good will.'
Again, at the end of Mass, the deacon does not dismiss the assembly of the
faithful by the words: Ite missa est. He substitutes the ordinary
greeting: Benedicamus Domino! as though the Church feared to interrupt
the prayers of the people, which could scarce be too long during these days
of expectation.
In the night Office, the holy Church also suspends, on those same days, the
hymn of jubilation, Te Deum laudamus. It is in deep humility that
she awaits the supreme blessing which is to come to her; and, in the interval,
she presumes only to ask, and entreat, and hope. But let the glorious hour
come, when in the midst of darkest night the Sun of justice will suddenly
rise upon the world: then indeed she will resume her hymn of thanksgiving,
and all over the face of the earth the silence of midnight will be broken
by this shout of enthusiasm: 'We praise Thee, O God! we acknowledge Thee
to be our Lord! Thou, O Christ, art the King of glory, the everlasting Son
of the Father! Thou being to deliver man didst not disdain the Virgin's
womb!'
On the ferial days, the rubrics of Advent prescribe that certain prayers
should be said kneeling, at the end of each canonical Hour, and that the
choir should also kneel during a considerable portion of the Mass. In this
respect, the usages of Advent are precisely the same as those of Lent.
But there is one feature which distinguishes Advent most markedy from Lent:
the word of gladness, the joyful Alleluia, is not interrupted during Advent,
except once or twice during the ferial Office. It is sung in the Masses of
the four Sundays, and vividly contrasts with the sombre colour of the vestments.
On one of these Sundays, the third, the prohibitionof using the organ is
removed, and we are gladdened by the grand notes, and rose-coloured vestments
may be used instead of the purple. These vestiges of joy, thus blended with
the holy mournfulness of the Church, tell us, in a most expressive way, that
though she unites with the ancient people of God (thus paying the debt which
the entire human race owes to the justice and mercy of God), she does not
forget that the Emmanuel is already come to her, that He is in her, and that
even before she has opened her lips to ask Him to save her, she has already
been redeemed and pre-destined to an eternal union with Him. This is the
reason why the Alleluia accompanies even her sighs, and why she seems to
be at once joyous and sad, waiting for the coming of that holy night which
will be brighter to her than the most sunny of days, and on which her joy
will expel all her sorrow.
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