Holy Name Monastery
Founded 1889

Advent

Mary and Elizabeth Rejoicing

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It is appropriate in the season of Advent that we consider the role of Mary in God’s plan of salvation.  Mary’s faith enabled her to recognize the work of God in her people’s history and in her own life.  Her openness to God allowed God to work through her so that salvation might come to everyone.   Because of this, Mary is a model and symbol of the Church.

The story on the fourth Sunday of Advent is about two pregnant women, the first one 6 months along is already experiencing the movement of the child in her womb.  The baby leaps when her cousin calls out to her.  This is a story of utter delight of a meeting of mothers and infants.  The babies, John and Jesus – both of whom got their names directly from angels of God.  They were to be friends and fellow prophets, recognized each other when they were still in the womb.

First, we hear about Mary and her journey.  When left her Mary eagerly goes dancing over the hills (well, maybe not quite “dancing” after all the distance she traveled was close to 50 miles).  Did she tell anyone on her way about the angel, the message or why she was hastening to her cousin?  I’m guessing she might have shared her experience and her concerns with her mom, Anne.

Rushing to share her secret with her cousin, Mary found another surprise: old Elizabeth was expecting a child of her own!  God was up to something big here!  Elizabeth greets Mary with full recognition of the roles that they and their unborn children will play in God’s plan for salvation.  If we were to continue to read the verses that follow in Luke’s Gospel, we would hear Mary respond to Elizabeth’s greeting with her song of praise, the Magnificat.  Both women recall and echo God’s history of showing favor upon the people of Israel.

To me, in this part of the Nativity story, Elizabeth is the star of the show and we do well not to overlook the significance of Elizabeth’s role in our salvation history.  She is the “amazed saint.”  She is exemplary in her response to her baby’s movement in her womb.  She is so in tune with her own body, she appreciates that something new and wonderful is going on here.  Elizabeth then broke out in joyful exclamation!  “Why am I so favored?”  Hers is humble amazement at being able to participate directly in God’s plan.  How muted Zechariah must have wished he, too, could sing with his wife over Mary’s news!  We who have a role in God’s plan should share this wonder.

Some of you may recall Fr. Simeon sharing a one-minute nugget of a Fourth Sunday of Advent homily in which you’ll find these lines:

 

Two women, cousins.

Girls giggling gladness, dancing delirious dream,

Marveling mystery, barely hearing –

 

He ended with this question: “Can God enter earth if there are no women?”

~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress

 

First Reading  Micah 5:1-4            Second Reading   Hebrews 10:5-10
Gospel Reading  Luke 1:39-45              Intention   Christmas Novena
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Four Weeks Suspended in Kairos

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In her book, THE LITURGICAL YEAR, Joan Chittister makes the comment: “Advent, more than any other season of the church year, calls us to live simultaneously in the past, the present, and the future.  She elaborates: “We learn in Advent to stay in the present, knowing that only the present well-lived can possibly lead us to the fullness of life.  It takes an overview of the three-year cycle of Advent readings to make clear the multiple meanings of Advent.  Many of our Advent hymns keep this idea before us when we sing “Mara – natha – two words – The Lord has come … God of, and in, our) past, present and future are all lived together … soul.” (Chittister)

We eagerly await the coming of Christ as a baby in Bethlehem (the past), we are invited to welcome him into our hearts now (the present), and we look forward to his future coming as king of glory.  For four weeks of Advent we are suspended in kairos — God’s time — when expectations and reality are held in tension with each other.  We must hold on to a vision of what challenges the church (that’s all of us) should be dealing with today.  Dwelling in the past or wishing for a perfect future can keep us from hearing the will of God in our today.  Many recognize in Pope Francis a voice that is, like John the Baptist, crying in the wilderness … urging us forward in the present to mend the past as we confront the ills of today.

This Gospel introduces us to the man: John.  The opening lines in Mark’s gospel are “the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ” but the first character he introducers is not Jesus, but John the Baptist, the fiery preacher who came out of the desert where he lived on honey and locusts.  And, he is no fashion plate, with his camel’s hair clothes, leather sandals, and leather girdle around his waist — very much like Elijah.  His diet was very simple: locusts (grasshoppers) and wild honey.  This is important, or it would not be here.  It is symbolic. But what does it symbolize?  Well, you cannot wear anything more fundamental in the way of clothing, or eat a more basic diet, than John did.  In other words, it is representative of his ministry — one of simple beginnings.  It is not the end; it is the beginning.  The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God is all about repentance.  This is the place to begin.  Even John’s clothing and his diet helped convey that message.

His diet, by the way, was balanced.  Food fanatics will quickly recognize that grasshoppers are protein, and honey is carb.  John’s diet was in perfect balance, so that he was a healthy man.  It was a simple sort of diet, just as his ministry was – nothing elaborate.  Furthermore, he’s very honest.  He says, “Don’t look to me for answers beyond what I have already told you.  Anything beyond that must come from Another, who is coming right after me.  He is so much greater than I that I am not even worthy to untie his shoes.  Remember, this was his cousin he was talking about!  John could bring people to God, but he could not take them beyond that.  John began his ministry in the wilderness, the worst possible place. But it worked!

The people of Jerusalem and Judea left their cities, their recreations and pleasures, and trekked through a howling wilderness to listen to a man preach.  They probably had to walk twenty or thirty miles to hear John, but did so willingly and in such increasing numbers that Mark records, in only slight exaggeration, that “all the country of Judea, and all the people of Jerusalem” came out to hear him.  Something drew these people into the desert to listen to this strange and rugged young preacher proclaim good news.  That is all he did!  He never told how it worked, or why; he just announced it.

How fitting it is that we have this message of forgiveness and repentance as a prologue to our Penance Service on Tuesday evening.  Then, as now, people need to know they can begin again.  God offers us, once again, an opportunity to truly repent.  We can change our attitude and stop defending ourselves and trying to blame everything on others.  There’s a saying: the whole world’s a critic.  Tuesday’s reconciliation service gives us a chance to be our own critic and say, “You know what, God?  I’ve finally realized it’s not those others, it is just me.  This is just the way I am — and I need help.”  In the quiet of your own heart, where God alone hears, you can say, “I repent, send me your Spirit.”

But keep in mind what the prophet Isaiah said about John’s message – this business of reconciliation will resemble a great bulldozer, building a highway in the desert.  John was God’s bulldozer to build that highway.  You know how roads are built – we see the process almost any direction we go on the highway.  Isaiah says: “Every mountain shall be brought low, and every valley shall be lifted up; the crooked places shall be made straight and the rough places plain.”  And, that is what repentance does.  It bulldozes down all the high peaks of pride that we stand on and refuse to admit we’re wrong.  It takes the depressed areas of our life, where we beat and torture and punish ourselves, and lifts them up.  It takes the crooked places, where we have lied and deceived, and straightens them out.  And it makes the rough places plain.  Then, there is God!  God comes to us so that we can come to God.

Our hope is in the promise of God, and God of the Promise… a promise that was fulfilled in Jesus Christ.  It is a hope that will not be disappointed because God may delay, He may tarry but He will not forget His promise.  He will not let us down.  Praise be God!

~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress

 

Readings:      Isaiah 40: 1-5, 9-11               2 Peter 3:8-14              Mark 1:1-8
Intention:       Peoples of Central America
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Until you know what hurts me…

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Scholars believe that Mark’s Gospel was written 30-40 years after Jesus’ death. His audience would have been Christians who were living in a difficult social and political time, a time of conflict.  They were likely to be facing persecution because they were followers of Jesus.  These early Christians took courage in Jesus’ warning to remain alert and watchful.  It strengthened them to persevere through the sufferings they encountered.

By the 6th century, Advent was tied to the coming of Christ.  But the “coming” they had in mind was not Christ’s first coming in the manger in Bethlehem, but his second coming in the clouds as the judge of the world.  It was not until the Middle Ages that the Advent season was explicitly linked to Christ’s first coming at Christmas.  In our contemporary church year Advent begins at the Vigil of the Sunday nearest the Feast of St. Andrew – sometime between November 27 and December 3rd.  We stretched it to the max this year.

Like the disciples and the faithful in Mark’s community, we must also stay alert and watchful.  Our faithfulness to God, and our experience of God’s faithful to us, through the good times as well as the difficult times, keeps us in a state of readiness for the coming of God in our daily lives and for Christ’s second coming.  It is special time when we strive to counterbalance the challenges in our environment: noise, speed and busyness.  Advent is a sacramental moment – an extended moment spanning 4 weeks.  It is a time for increased prayer, observances of the beauty and the needs in our everyday environment, and a honing of the discipline to respond to what God places in our paths.  It’s not a time to curl into ourselves, look at the pretty Christmas lights and dream of a “white Christmas with every Christmas card we write.”

Advent is certainly a time of waiting and of celebration and anticipation of Christ’s birth.  And it’s more than that.  It is only in the shadow of Advent that the miracle of Christmas can be fully understood and appreciated.  It is only in the light of Christmas that the Christian life makes any sense.  It is the between-time that Karl Barth speaks of when he writes: “Unfulfilled and fulfilled promises are related to each other, as are dawn and sunrise.  Both are promise and in fact the same promise.  If anywhere at all, then it is precisely in the light of the coming of Christ that faith has become Advent faith, the expectation of future revelation.  But faith knows for whom and for what it is waiting.  It is fulfilled faith because it lays hold on the fulfilled promise.  This,” says Barth, “is the essence of Advent.”

The Christmas story reminds us that it was in the midst of the busy stop-over city of Bethlehem that God slipped visibly into our world: a squalling infant to a humble, unpretentious couple.  In those days, Bethlehem was a place where business was conducted quickly, camels were exchanged, horses were watered, travelers would stop to have a meal and maybe spend a night.  Sheep grazed on the hillsides, shepherds kept watch for hungry wolves and marauders on the take.  Bethlehem’s fame was based on a has-been history … it was King David’s hometown.

It was here that the Christmas miracle happened … a God-moment that proves for those who have eyes to see and ears to hear that even a smelly cave can be heaven on earth – a sacred place – God’s house.

We have all had experiences of waiting … that’s part of all our lives.  This season of Advent reminds us that waiting is often the cost of love: in waiting for someone, our own everyday business becomes almost meaningless as we anticipate, worry, and prepare for our loved one’s return.  In waiting, we realize our own powerlessness; we realize our deepest hopes and needs; we realize the gift of the person we are awaiting is to us.

While it is difficult to keep the spirit of Advent in mind in the midst of holiday celebrations, shopping, lights and decorations, and joyful carols, Advent is intended to be a season of fasting, but not the penitential fasting we associate with Lent.  You’ll notice the liturgical color is lavender, not the deep purple of Lent.  Advent is anticipatory fasting of waiting, waiting for the glorious miracle of Christmas.  This is fasting when you’re too excited to do anything else, except sit-on-the-the-edge of the your seat, listen for the sound of approaching footsteps, stare at the door knob so you’ll be the first to see it turn and you keep asking: “Is it time yet?  Is He here?”

May our waiting for the coming of the Holy One this Christmas help us understand and carry on the mystery of compassionate and generous waiting.  Don’t expect a dramatic vision but do try to become more conscious of the Christ coming through our doors, in the ones who enter our community room, our retreat space and share a meal with us.  In our corporate commitment we pledge to be the embodiment of the compassion of Christ.  And it is obvious from our visitors’ comments that this is one of our signature ministries.  Our guests, and we who live here, know that our companions care for us …  the question may be do we care about each other.  One litmus test: until you know what hurts me, you cannot truly love me.“

We pray: fill our hearts with Advent hope so that we may learn to cope with the delays and disappointments we encounter with patience and wisdom.   May a spirit of gratitude and humility guide us on our journey to your dwelling place, enabling us to endure, with joy, the costs of waiting for love, reconciliation, and peace.

What has been your most difficult experience of waiting?  In the end how was your long vigil rewarded?

~Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress

 

First Reading  Isaiah 63:16b-17,  19b;64:2-7               Second Reading 1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Gospel Mark 13:33-37
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The Waiting Begins

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4th Sunday of Advent

First Reading:  Isaiah 7:10-14                  Second Reading: Romans 1:1-7

Gospel: Matthew 1:18-24

Each night for the octave before Christmas which begins tonight, we ask Christ to come, calling him by a different title in the Magnificat Antiphon, familiarly called the O Antiphons”.  These antiphons were developed during the Church’s first centuries, soon used widely in monasteries and by the 8th century they were in use in both the monastic and the Roman breviary (Divine Office).   They were originally in Latin and traditionally chanted. The O Antiphons are also used with the Alleluia for the Gospel Verse at Mass. The last one is sung at the Evening Office on December 23rd – there isn’t one for the evening service for Dec 24th because that is already the vigil of Christmas, so we are no longer waiting.

An interesting note that is not apparent in English, but it can be seen clearly in the Latin. Sometimes you see the phrase ERO CRAS on banners or cards listing the O Antiphons in Latin because if we take the first letter of each Latin title for Christ and write them in backwards order, we get “ERO CRAS, a Latin phrase that means “Tomorrow, I will Come.” Before tomorrow does come, Let’s take a stroll along the path of the O Antiphons …

O Wisdom!   Sirach (24:3) says:  “From the mouth of the Most High I came forth, and like mist covered the earth”.  Wisdom “reaches from end to end mightily and governs all things well”.  Wisdom is the foundation of fear of the Lord, of holiness, or right living: it is wisdom whom we bid to come to teach us prudence.

 

O Adonai and Ruler of the House of Israel! In Exodus (6:6) we read: “I will rescue you by my outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment”. With this second antiphon we progress from creation to the familiar story of God manifesting himself by name to Moses and giving his law to Israel as their way of life.

 

O Root of Jesse!  Isaiah (52:13-15) prophesied the restoration of David’s throne – a new branch budding out of the old root. Christ is the root of Jesse in a two-fold sense: he is the descendant of David, who was the youngest son of Jesse, and he inherited the royal throne.  The angel foretold to Mary, “The Lord God will give him the throne of David his father.”

 

 Key of David  Isaiah (22:22) makes a prophecy: “I will place the key of the House of David on his shoulder. When he opens, no one shall shut; when he shuts, no one shall open.”  The key and scepter are traditional symbols of kingly power and authority. Jesus shared his authority when He entrusted the power to “bind and to loose” to Peter and the ministers of his church. We look to Jesus to unlock the fetters of our shadow selves that keep us so tightly chained to bad habits and the stumbling blocks that impede our spiritual maturity.

 

O Rising Dawn!  Peter’s epistle echoes the sentiment of the prophet Malachi (2 Peter 1:19): “Keep your attention closely fixed on it, as you would on a lamp shining in a dark place, until the first streaks of dawn appear and the morning star rises in your heart”.  This title is variously translated “morning star”, “Dayspring”, “rising sun”, “radiant dawn”, “orient”.  All beautifully express the idea of light with its brightness bringing healing and warmth to cold hearts.  We pray this petition daily in the Benedictus: “the morning sun will rise upon us … guiding us in ways of peace.”

 

O King of the Gentiles and the Desired of all nations!  Thus says the prophet Isaiah: “Therefore, says the Lord God: See, I am laying a stone in Zion, a stone that has been tested, a precious cornerstone as a sure foundation”.  This sixth antiphon, in the words of Isaiah and Jeremiah, (Isaiah 28:16 and Jerimiah 10:7) clearly addresses the savior as the king of the gentiles and the Desired One of the nations, the cornerstone on whom our spiritual foundations are laid. We call on Christ to once again breathe new life into us.

 

O Emmanuel!   In this the seventh antiphon, we are reassured by the prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 7:14): “The Lord himself will give you this sign: the virgin shall be with child, and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel”.  With this last antiphon our expectation finds joy in the certainty of fulfillment.  We call Jesus by one of the most personal and intimate of his titles, Emmanuel, God-with-us.

Our Advent Scripture readings have been stressing the truth that Christ is the fulfillment not only of Old Testament hopes, but present ones as well. Our repeated use of the imperative “Come!” embodies the longing of all of us for the One who is to come in many ways – He came historically at Bethlehem in the fullness of time. He comes to us sacramentally.  He will come again at the end of time.  Christ comes to us also in the two-fold consecration of the Body and Blood of Christ and to us in Communion.  He comes in the words of Sacred Scripture and in the person of our confreres, our family and neighbors.  Christ comes in a special way through our corporate commitment actions – through the spiritual and corporal works of mercy.

In this final week of Advent we fix our attention on the messianic promises proclaimed by the ancient prophets.    The O Antiphons add a mood of eager expectation to the liturgy that builds throughout these seven days and climaxes at Christmas midnight Mass when the church sings: “I proclaim to you good news of great joy: today a Savior is born for us.”

~ Reflection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress
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Advent – Guadete (Rejoice) Sunday

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This past week we celebrated some feasts that are frequently connected in our minds to the customs of Christmas time: St. Nicholas shoes, the Immaculate Conception of Mary, and next week we’ll honor our Lady of Guadalupe (roses in the snow) and St. Lucy, patron of the sight-limited and blind, with crowns of lit candles and cat cookies.  And, this weekend the liturgy says: “take a breather – we’re halfway to Christmas.”

Two figures, John the Baptist and Mary the Mother of God, stand out in the Advent Gospels as we prepare for Christ’s birth.  John’s purpose in preparing us for Christ is fourfold: to bring knowledge of salvation, to bring forgiveness of sins, to give light in the darkness, and to guide us in the way of peace.

First, John models for us simplicity.  He lived a simple life, keeping his focus on Christ in everything he did.  We, too, strive to keep our focus on the true purpose of Christmas – the celebration of the birth of our Lord – much more than gift-giving.

Second, John lived a life of fasting.  We too can make little sacrifices for others during Advent, thereby keeping the focus off of consumerism and placing it on relationships – with Christ and with others.

Third, John forgave others.  We too can make a commitment to forgive others this Advent.  In forgiveness therapy there is a belief that anger is due to a lack of forgiveness and a lack of forgiveness is due to anger.  The two feed off each other.  Thus, if you are feeling angry, practice forgiveness.  What a great time to offer the gift of forgiveness to a love one, a confrere, or a coworker.

Fourth, John lived a virtuous life.  We too can focus on increasing the positive in our lives and letting go of the negative. Following John’s lead is a great way to our lives peaceful.

The Blessed Virgin Mary is the other figure that prepares us for Christ’s birth.  Mary’s face in many sculptures, icons and images exemplifies the peace she must have exuded in her life.  Her peace came from putting Christ at the center of all she did.  Like Benedict says (in his Rule): put nothing whatever ahead of Christ.”  Mary’s “yes” was the ultimate gift she could give and she offered it peacefully.

We ask ourselves: what is my best?  What can I give to God this advent season?

This story, told in this month’s Catholic Digest illustrates the lesson that God cannot not be undone is generosity.  I quote:  When I was a child, my parents would have my siblings and me create a list of Christmas gifts we wanted that year.  Then, they would find children in need who were the same age and gender as we were.  My parents then asked us to give our No. 1 item to that child and cross it off our list.  It was a huge sacrifice for us – and a lesson in giving our best to God.

One year my brother wanted an action figure and was very upset that he was being asked to give that same action figure to another boy who had very few, if any, toys.  He balked at giving this best and did it only reluctantly that year.  Once it was gone, he knew it was off his list for the year, at least from my parents.  However, our aunt, not knowing our family practice, or what my brother’s best gift was and that he had given it away, gave him that same action figure for Christmas.  The joy on his face was radiant, as he exclaimed: “I’m giving God my best gift every year!”

What is your best give?  Just like the Blessed Virgin Mary, what can you give to Christ this year, knowing that the reward for giving is beautiful?

In tomorrow’s Entrance Antiphon (from Paul to the Philippians)  the Church exhorts us: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice!”  The antiphon reminds me of a hymn made popular by S. Miriam Therese Winter, with her peppy guitar rendition of “God Loves a Cheerful Giver.”  You may remember it – if so, sing:

God loves a cheerful giver, give it all you’ve got,
He loves to hear you singing when you’re in an awkward spot,
When the odds are up against you,
It’s time to stop and sing – Praise God,
to praise Him is a joyous thing!

Do what the church says, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice.”

(Disclaimer: in this reflection, I’ve borrowed a good bit from an article in this month’s Catholic Digest “Creating Advent Peace in Your Life” by Lisa Kiewicki)
~Relection by Sister Roberta Bailey, OSB, Prioress
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Feast of the Holy Family 2015

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holy_family_iconHere we are already at the 1st Sunday after Christmas celebrating the feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.  Actually, the birthday celebration of the Christ child naturally leads us to contemplate the Holy Family

I want to start today’s reflection with a little story.  It is called the Luck of Roaring Camp, and was written in 1868 by Bret Harte. The story takes place in Roaring Camp, a camp of gruff, hard drinking, fierce, gold diggers.  The men would kill someone sooner than they would ask a person his name.  One day a pregnant and sick Indian lady stumbled into the camp.  When she went into labor, two of the men were decent enough to try to help her.  She died during the birth, but miraculously, the child, a boy, survived.  Now, deaths were common in Roaring Camp, but a birth was something completely new.  The men of the camp took responsibility for the baby.  They began taking turns taking care of him.  They decided to build him a clean cabin and even put in windows with lace curtains.  He was their baby and they were determined to give him a proper home.  The men took turns taking care of the baby.  To hold him and sing to him was considered a privilege.  They demanded from each other previously unheard of things such as decent language, quiet, cleanliness and moral order.  The men began to shed their roughness, their anger and their selfishness.  The little child transformed this outpost of rough, crude miners into a community of generosity, tenderness and compassion.  The baby called forth from these reckless characters and criminals a dignity, worth and sense of beauty, wonder and joy.

Children will do that to you and for you. Children can bring out the best in their parents and siblings – their family.  And this is what God has done for us through the birth of His son.  With Jesus’ birth, our humanity is made sacred.  He has called us from living self-centered lives to lives of compassion, peace and joy.  Jesus Christ has transformed humanity, making humanity sacred, just as He is sacred.

Benedict encouraged a relationship with God that would soften the hearts of the hooligans who sought him as their model and leader.  We reap the richness of his principles for living together.  He sets high but possible ideals for group living.  Just as children can bring out the best in their parents, we monastics, in our intentional family, can bring out the best in each other or we can push each other’s buttons.   The important word is his first: LISTEN!listen1

At Roaring Camp, the presence of the baby transformed the rough men from being self-centered to being self-less. In a sense, the baby called those men to holiness and formed them into a family.  On the Feast of the Holy Family we pray that we all may hear the cries of the Infant Jesus, calling us to reverence His presence, calling all of us to the holiness that is the heart of Christian living.

So, what we are celebrating today is that the God who created the institution of the family, despite its shortcomings, chose to transform it through the Incarnation and make it one of the ways by which he saved us. We can learn in the example of the Holy Family that, despite all our failures and difficulties, we too are called to become ‘holy’ through living out God’s word in the midst of our community.

Let us then ask God’s blessings on our own families, and our community.   With the passing of another Christmas season, let us go into the New Year strengthened by its message and with our hopes renewed for a better world.

                                                                                             Reflection by Sr. Roberta Bailey, O.S.B., Prioress

 

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