First Thursday of Advent: Memorial of St. Francis Xavier
On that day this song will be sung in the land of Judah: “We have a strong city; he sets up victory like walls and bulwarks. Open the gates, so that the righteous nation that keeps faith may enter in. Those of steadfast mind you keep in peace— in peace because they trust in you. “Trust in the Lord forever, for in the Lord God you have an everlasting rock. For he has brought low the inhabitants of the height; the lofty city he lays low. He lays it low to the ground, casts it to the dust. The foot tramples it, the feet of the poor, the steps of the needy.”
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain and sat down. His disciples came to him and he taught them, saying: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on rock. “And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not act on them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell—and great was its fall!”
“On that day...”
Our days are marked by rituals: we ritualize the change of seasons and the beginning of the new year, we celebrate birthdays and anniversaries; we order our lives by our phone’s clocks and e-calendars. Keeping track of time provides us with a common structure of life’s quotidian tasks. Joined together with the Church, we are invited communally and individually to pattern our lives:
on the One who was born in Bethlehem,
on the One who comes into our hearts at the present moment,
and on the same One who will come again in glory.
If there is a prayer that reminds me to cry out the One who is to come it is this: let us remember that we are in the holy presence of God. Coined by Saint John Baptist de la Salle, this ejaculatory prayer reminds us that God is eternally present and all we have to do is literally, “remember.” There is no need to enter into as if we could leave God’s loving presence. And “the remembering” is something that we quite literally do during Advent in anticipation for the Season of Christmas. We remember our need for a Savior, although we truly know that Christ is among us even in the challenges our world faces. That is what I love about liturgical prayer: it simultaneously embraces the past, present and the future. Our celebration of Advent is not a “let’s pretend Jesus isn't born yet,” but rather a deepening of the mystery of Christ. All we have to do is look “on that day.”
These opening words from our first reading invite me to take a pause and take a moment to imagine and see in my mind’s eye what “that day” can look like. I would love to live in the world that Isaiah prophesied! The reading is a song of joy, and a vision of turning the world upside down...imagine then: a church that is truly inclusive and real, one in which all people are included, valued, recognized and supported. When God’s justice reigns in the world, we can open the gates of our hearts, allowing peace to rule.
Now, this peace isn’t the warm, fuzzy, hallmark card type of peace. Rather it is the kind of peace which is the driving force that the power of God springs forth and from which for two millennia has encapsulated the essence of Advent - this hunger, this longing is what gives shape to our days of joyful expectation.
If Isaiah's prophecy comes to life - lofty inhabitants and cities brought low - then on that day will LGBT+ people be embraced, BIPOC can walk with heads held high, and people will no longer be caught up with the “-isms” of an infrastructure that breaks people down instead of building people up.
We have a model in Saint Francis Xavier, whose memorial we celebrate today. A person of faith who journeyed with Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Xavier went to the ends of the earth - quite literally with no preparation - to work in making Isaiah’s prophecy come true, and Jesus’ encouragement in the gospel a reality for countless people. Xavier too had a longing for justice in which all people could share in the reign of God.
If we truly believe that Jesus is the reason in which this vision of Isaiah comes true, why are we so timid to be Christ on the streets, in our homes during this pandemic, or even to ourselves? If Christ truly is the foundation in which we build our house - as referred to in the gospel - maybe this Advent we can be brave enough to remember what matters most.
As the People of God, let us train our eyes and hearts to see the ways that God sees and the ways that God dreams for us. Let us continue to work for justice, for, unlike Advent waiting, justice cannot wait for no one. And, on the day when we can truly say “on that day,” may we be able to grasp that moment of grace in which we celebrate the full coming of the kingdom of heaven of peace and justice, not just for the life of the world, but for our hearts as well.
Activity:
Advent guided meditation on sight - preferable done at the early morning, or evening
The season of Advent is often a feast for the eyes - especially juxtaposed with the commercialism of Christmas. For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, days are shorter and nights grow longer. In some places, snow and frost can be seen from windows. The glow of lamps in the form of candles flickers and mesmerizes. Let us take advantage of this opportunity, on this day, and invite ourselves to use our sense of sight and see what God invites us to see.
Close your eyes. Breathe in deeply, and as you breathe out,
release any stress you may be holding in your body.
Inhale calm and relaxation.
Exhale tension and anxiety.
Breathe in the nourishment of the Spirit.
Breathe out any distractions.
As you continue to breathe at a steady pace,
Hear the rhythm of your own breath.
As you breathe in, allow yourself to awaken to your sense of sight.
With your eyes closed, notice the darkness.
Are you antsy to open your eyes and take in the sights around you?
Or are you comfortable with this darkness?
It is the same darkness in which we await the Advent morning -
when the deepest of indigos, give way to purples, roses, and blues.
Keep your eyes closed a moment longer. Wait.
Do you notice anything else?
Are there any images which appear even in the darkness?
What do you desire to see on the other side of the dark, beyond your eyelids?
Slowly, open your eyes, and let them adjust.
What is the first thing you see around you?
Let your eyes wander.
Notice what you take in.
What is familiar about this place that you walk around in everyday?
How is it different?
Now, if you are able, I invite you to focus on the sky.
See its vastness.
Notice its color, its radiant depth, everything about it.
Within that broad blanket of sky, pick one star.
Look at its light; focus in on it.
Is it brilliant and shimmering?
Is it faint?
Imagine God, years upon years ago, creating the cosmos, separating light from darkness, creating all that we can see… Creating it all out of love. Imagine how much of God’s own love was put into creation, and that the one star that you’re watching is the home of that love.
Look at its light and feel God’s love – for creation and for you.
Notice that this simple little light is surrounded by darkness, and yet that vastness doesn’t prevent the light from shining.
Continue to look at your star.
Continue to notice its light,
and to think of the love in which this light was created.
Still beholding the star and its light,
think of the love in which you were created.
Imagine your own source of light, deep within you, as you look at this star.
What kind of light has God given you?
For whom are you meant to shine?
What comprises the darkness around you?
Focusing on your star, notice that it is not alone in the night sky.
There are hundreds, thousands others …
some, we know, which we cannot even see.
See how the light of all the stars is dispersed,
and yet together they make up the beauty of the sky.
Let your eyes wander once more.
Notice everything around you.
What catches your attention?
Focus on one object.
Notice its color and texture.
See its shadows and its definition.
See the roughness or softness of it.
Notice everything about it.
As you do, become aware of how sharply focused
your sense of sight has become in this short time.
Invite that sharp focus to accompany you into this week.
In the coming weeks of Advent, let all that you see,
let the fullness of your vision,
let all of your insight,
be a blessing in the midst of the busy-ness of this season.
Call to action:
“Give a helping hand.”
Some Catholic trivia: a sizable relic of Frances Xavier (his arm and hand) is displayed for veneration at the Gesu in Rome.
Consider his hands with Christ’s hands and now yours. So much of the season is “gift-giving.” Tap into a spirit of generosity and consider where you can donate a gift or resource. Many parishes set up a Jesse Tree or a giving tree in preparation for Christmas. If yours doesn't, consider asking your parish leaders if it is something that would be possible as a parish offering for outreach and service to our brothers and sisters in need. In this time of sheltering in place, you can also set up an online tree (how-to here).
Consider hand writing a Christmas card, maybe to those in convalescent or retirement communities, or to people in hospitals who may have to stick out the holidays in the hospital. Contacting a local hospital chaplain would be a great place to start.
