Rising before daylight to praise the Lord has been the practice of monks and some cloistered nuns for centuries. Before the first light of dawn breaks through the nighttime sky, the beginning of a new day is appropriately heralded by praising God with psalms.
While most of the world is asleep, these citadels of faith celebrate the presence of God in the hushed silence of the predawn hours, a universal practice that unites the Church in a way that for the most part remains hidden. Yet I believe there is a latent monk waiting to be awakened within the depths of every person’s heart, and what better time for such an awakening to occur than during Advent?
I’m not suggesting that every Catholic should set their alarm clocks for 3:30 a.m. However, in keeping with this season of heightened expectation, we do well to stay awake and alert lest we miss the coming of Christ because we’ve been asleep, oblivious to the miracle in our midst.
Whether knowingly or unknowingly, there lies deep within the recesses of the human heart a longing that can only be filled by Emmanuel, who continues to make his presence known in pregnant silence, waiting to be filled. Unless we fill that void by preparing for Christ’s coming, we can easily be overwhelmed by the distractions that have all but removed Christ from Christmas.
It’s no accident that the noise and clamor of vendors hawking their wears rises to fever pitch during the weeks preceding Christmas. The retail industry depends on the popular penchant of a population, whose love language is giving gifts that are bigger and better than last year’s offerings.
Black Friday is rightly named for it obscures the true reason for the season. No longer limited to the day after Thanksgiving, the entire month of November is held hostage by Black Friday commercials, as they dangle “deals of a lifetime” before the eyes of an unsuspecting public whose charge accounts remain largely in the red. Fortunately, the Church offers a more meaningful approach to the season.
In the “Joy of the Gospel,” Pope Francis wrote that all who share in the Gospel share in the joy of the Good News, and no one exemplifies this joy more perfectly than Mary. In our noise-polluted world, it’s easy to become deaf to the voice of God, a type of deafness that is nothing new. As early as the second century, Ignatius of Antioch wrote about the importance of being attentive to silence:
“There is one Teacher who spoke and it happened. And the things he did in silence are worthy of the Father. The one who truly possesses Jesus’s word can truly also hear his silence, that he may be perfect, that he may act through what he says and be known by his silence. Let us do everything as if it comes from him who is dwelling in us, that we may be His temples and that our God may be in us.”
No one was closer to Jesus than Mary. Mindful of the mystery that she housed within her womb, she remained ever attentive to the voice of the Holy Spirit and her joy was complete. Like us, she walked by faith.
Although she lived in the presence of mystery, she was not able to understand all that she experienced. Scripture tells us that she kept all these things in her heart. Consider that the greatest mysteries, the Incarnation and Resurrection, were enacted through silence, and yet, their effects continue to speak volumes to the world.
As people of faith, are we duly attentive? Could it be that we’ve heard or read the Annunciation story so often that it no longer takes away our breath? Are we so distracted by the events of this world that we’ve become casual bystanders to the greatest story ever told? And does all our doing take precedence over pondering the mysteries of God?
Happily, Advent marks the beginning of a new liturgical cycle. It’s an invitation to welcome the season with all the joyful anticipation that accompanies New Year celebrations, because that’s what it is. However, rather than breaking into strains of Auld Lang Syne amid the sound of noisemakers and clinking glasses of champagne, let’s gather around the Advent wreath and resolve to make this liturgical new year the most God-centered yet.
As we peer into the nighttime sky, may we bow before the Son that entered the womb of the humble Virgin of Nazareth, as we pray, “Come, Emmanuel.”