Third Sunday of Advent

Waiting in Silence,
Waiting in Hope



"Celebration of Evensong"
Gaudate Sunday


Reflection
Sr. Hildegard Pleva, OSsR

Readings: Isaiah 61:1-2, 10-11

John 1:6-8, 19-28


Drivers who frequently navigate previously uncharted territory know well the experience of entering a complex traffic junction, seeing a myriad of route signs and directives and having a moment of indecision and sheer panic; then, in the face of information overload, making a decisive move based on gut intuition alone. The decision is entirely our own. We just tune out everything else, amazingly compute the evidence, and act.

The readings at Mass today told us of John the Baptist. The words of Isaiah anointed him to be proclaimer of the Good News of salvation. And the Gospel of John gives us the words of his proclamation, “I am the voice of one crying out in the desert, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord’…There is one among you who you do not recognize.” The Baptizer acts like a GPS, a‘global positioning system’ helping us through a confusing intersection. And he begs his followers to listen up.

How can we listen up? How can we listen up in our current “confusing intersection?” This intersection is overloaded with anxiety about war, global warming, finances, and most touchingly, our ability and our desire to care for one another. Our media-filled, digitally dominated, television addicted age makes listening up as difficult as spotting the right sign at a confusing traffic circle. To assume the posture of listening requires the cultivation of silence. That is a lot to ask at any time but particularly so now – the most frantic days of our consumer-driven culture.

John’s directive today, his plea to pay attention and prepare, and the invitation of all the liturgies of the Advent season call us to enter the silence; a silence reminiscent of Robert Frost’s snowy woods – “lovely, dark and deep.” Here we are invited to sink into the darkness to dwell in the presence of mystery. These days call us to ‘listen up’ – to withdraw, at least for a few moments, from the crowded market place and the frenetic super highway. This season, like no other, begs for recollection and silence in the presence of the mystery of the Incarnation. Only then will the true light penetrate our darkness. How else can we hear and respond to the words of John the Baptist, “Behold the Lamb of God.”

Second Sunday of Advent

"Birth into hope."
1 Peter 1:3

Art by Moira Quinn

Evensong

Reflection

by

Sr. Moira Quinn, O.Ss.R

Years ago I remember seeing a photo in a magazine of a Christmas tableau: In the foreground is Mary, a young mother, serenely holding her baby Jesus. Behind her on a scrim was a picture of an older Mary, full of grief, at the foot of the cross.

I thought, ‘How odd to have these two pictures juxtaposition so at Christmas time.’ Upon reflection, though, I realized many woman of the ancient world gave birth in poor conditions and many women in the ancient world saw their sons crucified. But we, anticipating the celebration of this particular birth, and death of this one man, Jesus, can make sense of it only because of the resurrection, and of Jesus’ promise to be Emmanuel ‘with us to the end of the age.’ Mt 28:20

But what about now? We are a people stuck in the middle time. During this season we recall Jesus first coming as a baby, the longed for Messiah, as we await his Second Coming as the King of Glory. Yet, being stuck in this middle time isn’t really bad because, in truth, not only has Jesus come and is coming, but Jesus, the Lord of all Hope, is here with us right now living among us.

Where? Where else, but in each and every heart!

Advent is a time to welcome Jesus more deeply, more dearly, into our hearts so to share Jesus’ love more clearly in all our words and actions thus making this middle time, this now, a visible witness of the kingdom of God active and alive in the present moment.

My friend, John the Baptist, in today’s Gospel invites us to ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.’ Mk 1:3 That made me think of that Spanish proverb, ‘God writes straight with crooked lines,’ and Isaiah voice crying out about the rugged land being made smooth. Top this off with something I read recently of an old wise black woman who said, ‘If the mountain is smooth you cannot climb it.’ Straight paths, crooked lines, rugged land, smooth mountains. How can we prepare the way to the Lord with such differing instructions and observations?

Our foundress, Venerable Maria Celeste, had the answer: the fixed gaze. With our gaze fixed on Jesus we will make a straight path for Emmanuel to come into our hearts where ‘he will guide us in the way of faith that is alive in hope, and charity, that leads directly to heaven.’ (Florilegium 19) With our gaze fixed on Jesus we will see, usually in retrospect, how the crooked lines of our life are leading us straight to God according to God’s Divine Love. Then we will be able to climb the rugged mountain, not the smooth, because we know the surest path is not the slippery slope, but rather the one we can hold on to; the rocks and boulders of our life: the highs and lows of our work-a-day life, the joys and sorrows, the challenges and struggles. All are means to climbing the heights to see clearer God’s action in our lives.

So, as we climb the rugged mountain along our crooked paths this Advent with our eyes fixed straight ahead on Jesus, let us sing praises to our God who is present to us in the here and now by our acts of faith, hope and love, as we strive to be visible witnesses of Jesus, Emmanuel, God-with-us, and in us, to one another.

Great Advent Feast for So Many

Happy

Saint Nicholas Day

The Reform Church in Kingston, NY is fondly called "The Old Dutch Church". Before being taken by the British, it was first settled in the 17th century by the Dutch who called it Wiltwyck. The Old Dutch, the first Church in the town, still continues, has an active congregation, assists civic endeavors, presents a living Nativity every Christmas and hosts wonderful organ concerts and an annual joint Christmas concert of the Mendelssohn Club (male voices) and the Kingston High School choir. I am dipping way into nostalgia here. This last concert is one of the events I have missed since entering the monastery over eight years ago.

When my sons were young we could walk from our home up Main Street to the Old Dutch every December 6th and see St. Nicholas enter town astride his beautiful horse with loyal Black Peter at his side. St. Nicholas carried a huge bag from which he would repeatedly grab a fistful of candy to throw out to the many children crowding around him. Alas this tradition is no more. But it was an exciting occasion for the children, a connection with history and an Advent tradition which went along with the Advent wreath on the kitchen table and the Jesse Tree decorated with homemade biblical symbols and hung on a door. Sometimes I wonder how much of this they remember.

But here in our monastery we maintain our own tradition for this celebration of the great saint, patron of so many (children, sailors, pawn brokers, coopers, young unmarried woman, bankers and even prostitutes). His legends are many. Just google his name and find out. You will also find out how the remains of this Bishop of Smyrna in present day Turkey came to rest in Bari, southern Italy.

Today each of us found a little gift from St. Nicholas in our mail box. Every year, Sr. Moira, supervisor of our kitchen and cuisine, makes a most delicious, huge St. Nicholas cookie painted as the image of the saint. We love it. We are blessed to benefit from Sr. Moira's artistry and generosity which adds so much beauty to the life of our community of contemplative nuns.

Monastic Prayer - The Prayer of the Church

Bout Psalter

Immersed in the Advent Moment

The Mass and the Liturgy of the Hours together form the great, deeply rooted trunk of contemplative monastic life. This pillar of life nourishes perseverance in in the vows and devotion to private prayer. In addition, as is particularly evident in the Advent season, participation in the official public worship of the Church, provides penetrating connection with the Paschal mystery of Jesus' birth, life, death and Resurrection. To take part in these two expressions of the Church's official public worship is to be totally immersed in the meaning and invitation of these days.

The Roman Catholic breviary (The Liturgy of the Hours) currently in use was first published in 1970 by the International Committee on English in the Liturgy. Like the Sacramentary used for the celebration of Mass, its readings, antiphons, prayers, petitions and music are specific to the season and/or the feast of the day. It is amazing that these books of ritual and prayer so necessary for public worship were created and edited without the use of computers on which we so totally rely for organizational and editing assistance today.

In our monastery we are blessed to have Mass every day and we celebrate together The Office of Readings, Lauds (Morning Prayer), Midday Prayer (one of the "little hours", Vespers (Evening Prayer) and Compline (NightPrayer). In these times of prayer and celebration the ambiance of the season, its deepest spiritual significance will plunge us into the mystery of the Incarnation over and over again.

The day begins with the antiphon for the Invitatory Psalm 95:

Come worship the Lord, the King who is to come.

The first hymn of the day began:

Lift up your heads you mighty gates; behold the King of glory waits.

The first selection for the Office of Readings told of Isaiah's prophecy of the conversion of Egypt and Assyria. The second reading was one of my all-time favorites, a selection from the Proslogion by St. Anselm. It begins:

Insignificant mortal, escape from your everyday business for a short while, hide for a moment from your restless thoughts. Break off from your cares and troubles and be less concerned about your tasks and labors. Make a little time for God and rest a while in him.

Enter into your mind's inner chamber. Shut out everything but God and whatever helps you to seek him; and when you have shut the door, look for him. Speak now to God and say with your whole heart: I seek your face; your face, Lord, I desire.

The wise Bishop Anselm then speaks of how difficult this is and how hard it is to see God who is, after all, light inaccessible. But he ends with a beautiful plea, a prayer for all seekers.

Teach me to seek you, and when I seek you show yourself to me, I cannot seek you unless you teach me, nor can I find you unless you show yourself to me. Let me seek you in desiring you and desire you in seeking you, find you in loving you and love you in finding you.

These examples are only the tip of the iceberg. When the antiphons, readings, responses and prayers of the Office combine daily with the prayer texts and scripture readings provided for the celebration of the Liturgies of the Word and Eucharist at Mass, those who are blessed to participate are plunged into the life of prayer particular to this season. Every provision has been made to create the atmosphere necessary for the coming of Jesus within. We are not waiting for Jesus to be born 'out there'. He was born 'out there' over two thousand years ago. Rather, we ourselves are gestating the appearance of the Jesus within, the Jesus who is in us by virtue of his very birth in human flesh. Jesus is to come alive in us, to be unveiled for all to see.

How blessed we are in our contemplative monastic home to be surrounded by these gifts of the Church.

1st Sunday of Advent

Reflection at Evensong



by Sister Margaret Banville, O.Ss.R

When I entered religious life, almost 60 years ago, I already had the custom of attending daily Mass. I would leave home fasting and would seldom get any breakfast before starting work in an office in downtown Toronto. I made that kind of sacrifice to be able to go to Mass in Advent, but I didn’t have a clue to the liturgical richness of this beautiful season contained in the Divine Office. Here is a sample of what I mean:

In the vigil Office last night [1st Sunday of Advent], we read a catechetical instruction of Saint Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem. He speaks of two comings of Christ: (Remember that the word “Advent” means “coming”).

At the first coming he was wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger. At his second coming he will be clothed in light as in a garment. In the first coming he endured the cross, despising the shame; in the second coming he will be in glory, escorted by an army of angels.

Advent is a time of longing and hope. We know our Savior has come and will come again. This is our faith. We also know that even though we may not live until his final coming at the end of time, he will come for each of us when our lifespan is complete.

Let our Advent prayer be: Come, Lord Jesus!