In Expectation of Our Lord

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

“He came unto his own, and his own received him not” (John 1:11).

We're invited in this period of Advent to keep watch for the coming of the Messiah.

In the Collect or Opening Prayer of today's Mass, we're told: “Almighty God, grant us the will to greet Our Savior with good works when he comes so that we may be worthy to be on his right hand and possess the Kingdom of heaven.”

Ronald Knox, in one of his sermons on Advent, says, “Everybody knows, even those of us who have lived most unadventurously, what it is to plod on for miles, it seems, eagerly straining your eyes towards the lights that, somehow, mean home.

“How difficult it is, when you are doing that, to judge distances! In pitch darkness, it might be a couple of miles to your destination, it might be a few hundred yards.

“So it was,” he says, “I think, with the Hebrew prophets, as they looked forward to the redemption of their people. They could not have told you, within a hundred years, within five hundred years, when it was that the deliverance would come.

“They only knew that some time, the stock of David would burgeon anew; some time, a key would be found to fit the door of their prison house; some time, the light that only showed, now, like a will-o'-the-wisp on the horizon, would broaden out, at last, into the perfect day.”

This attitude of expectation is one which the Church wants to encourage in us, her children, permanently. She sees it as an essential part of our Christian drill that we should still be looking forward; getting on for two thousand years now, since the first Christmas Day came and went, and we must still be looking forward.

So she encourages us, during Advent, to take the shepherds for our guides, and imagine ourselves traveling with them, at dead of night, straining our eyes towards that chink of light which streams out, we know, from the stable in Bethlehem” (Ronald A. Knox, Sermon on Advent, December 21, 1947).

When the Messiah came, few were really expecting Him. “He came unto his own, and his own received him not” (John 1:11).

We could say to Our Lord, “Teach me your paths. Make me walk in your truth…, for you are God my Savior” (cf. Ps. 25:4-5).

Most men and women of that time had been blind to what was most essential in their lives and in the life of the world.

St. Paul tells us from today's Gospel, “Watch, therefore…” (Matt. 25:13). “Wake from sleep” (Rom. 13:11), because we too can forget what is most fundamental in our existence, what our life here on earth is all about.

The Responsorial Psalm says, “Summon the nations, say to the peoples: See, Our God and Savior is coming! Tell it, proclaim it; cry aloud.”

The Church reminds us of this with a four-week period of preparation, so that we can get ourselves ready to celebrate Christmas once more. And at the same time so that, with the first coming to the world of God made Man, we may be heedful of those other ‘advents’ of God—first when we die, and then again at the end of time. This holy season is thus a time of preparation and of hope.

“Come, O Lord, and do not delay” (Ps. 70:5). Let us make straight His path...The Lord is soon to arrive.

If we are aware that our sight is clouded and that we don’t see the radiance emanating from Bethlehem, from the infant Jesus, it is time to rid ourselves of whatever impairs our vision.

Now is the time for a particularly good examination of conscience, for a thorough interior purification which will prepare us to receive and to welcome that expected guest who is God

It is the moment to take note of the things that separate us from Him, to loosen their hold and cast them from us. Our examination must penetrate to the very roots of our actions and scrutinize deep down in our hearts the motives which inspire our actions.

As we really do want, not vaguely but seriously, to draw and be drawn closer to God at this time, we need to look into our souls in a deep way. There we'll find the real enemies that sustain their unremitting warfare to keep us away from Him.

There, in one form or another, are the main obstacles that obstruct and hinder the growth of our Christian life: “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life” (1 John 2:16).

In Christ Is Passing By, St. Josemaría says, “The lust of the flesh is not confined only to the disordered tendencies of the senses in general or to the disorder of sensuality in particular. It also refers to that love of comfort, to that reluctance to stir ourselves or even to be alert, which drives us to seek that which is least uncomfortable, what is most pleasurable, the path offered us that seems the shorter and less arduous, even at the cost of our failing in faithfulness to God.

“The other enemy is the lust of the eyes, a deep-seated greed that sees nothing of value in what cannot be laid hands on.

“The eyes of the soul are dulled; reason thinks itself to be self-sufficient, dispensing with God as unnecessary. It's a subtle temptation, supported by the dignity of the very intelligence that Our Father God has given us that we may know and love him freely.

“Seduced by this temptation, the human intelligence regards itself as the center of the universe, reverting with delight to the words of the serpent in Genesis, ‘you shall be like gods’ (Gen. 3:5), and, being filled with the love of self, it turns its back on God's love.

“Our existence can, in this way, surrender itself unconditionally into the hands of the third enemy, ‘pride of life.’ This is not merely a matter of ephemeral fantasies, the fancied products of vanity or self-love: it is an all-embracing presumption. Let us not fool ourselves; this is the worst of all evils, the root of every conceivable deviation” (Josemaría Escrivá, Christ Is Passing By, Points 4-5).

Since God is coming to us, we have to get ready for Him, to prepare ourselves.

When Christmas arrives, Our Lord should find us with everything in order and our soul fit to receive Him, just as He ought to find us in our final encounter with Him. We have to make what adjustment is required to correct the course of our lives and turn ourselves to God who also comes to us.

Man's whole existence is a constant preparing to see God, who draws ever closer. We have an appointment.

But in Advent, the Church helps us with this solemn consideration in mind to ask in a special way: “Lord, make me know your ways. Lord, teach me your paths. Make me walk in your truth and teach me: for you are God my Savior,” as we're told in the Psalms (Ps. 25:4-5).

We also have to ready ourselves for this encounter in the Sacrament of Penance.

Just before Christmas, St. John Paul II was with over 2,000 children in a Roman Parish. He began his catechesis with a certain dialogue, asking: “How are you preparing for Christmas?” By praying, the children shouted back.

“Very good, by praying,” the Pope said, “but also by going to Confession. You must go to Confession so that you can go to Communion later. Will you do that?”

In an even louder voice, those thousands of children replied, We will!

Then St. John Paul told them, “Yes, you ought to go.” And then, lowering his voice in a whisper, he said, “The Pope also will go to Confession so as to receive the Child Jesus worthily.”

Each one of us can try to do the same in these weeks between now and Christmas, with an ever greater love and deeper contrition. We can always receive this sacrament of divine mercy with better dispositions as a result of a deeper examination of our souls.

We are told in St. Mark that Jesus said to His disciples at that time: “Take heed, watch and pray; for you do not know when the time will come. … Watch, therefore—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or in the morning—lest he come suddenly and finds you asleep. And what I say to you, I say to all: Watch!” (Mark 13:33,35-37).

To maintain this state of alertness we need to struggle because we all have a tendency to live with our eyes fixed on the things of the earth. Especially during this time of Advent, we shouldn't forget that “our hearts are darkened by gluttony and drunkenness and the cares of life” (Luke 21:34), and so lose sight of the supernatural dimension which every action of ours should have as its milieu.

St. Paul uses these words. He compares this guard over ourselves to that of a well-armed soldier “who does not allow himself to be taken by surprise” (cf. 1 Thess. 5:4).

St. Teresa of Ávila says: “This adversary tries to wreak havoc in whatever way he can; and since he does not devise his tactics without attention to detail, neither should we” (St. Teresa, The Way of Perfection).

We will remain at the ready if we are attentive to our personal prayer, which enables us to avoid lukewarmness and the dwindling and cooling of our desire for holiness.

We will be constantly on the alert if we don't become slipshod about those little mortifications which keep us awake to the things of God.

We will remain attentive through a refined examination of conscience, which makes us look to those points at which, almost without noticing it, we are departing from our path.

St. Bernard says to us, “God reveals to you, as he did to the children, what is hidden from the learned and wise: the true ways of salvation. Meditate on them,” he says, “with the greatest attention. Steep yourselves in the meaning of these Advent days. And above all, pay heed to him who is approaching; think where did he come from and where is it that he goes. Consider his purpose in coming, the ripeness of the times, the route he may choose for his approach.

“Such speculation cannot but be good. Our curiosity is far from being an idle one. The Universal Church would not celebrate this Advent time with such solemnity of devotion did it not contain within it some great mystery” (St. Bernard, Sermon on the Six Aspects of Advent).

“Let us go forth with a clean heart to receive the supreme King, for he is to come, and he will not delay,” we read this among the Antiphons of Advent.

We need to be on guard not only against God's enemies but also against the complicity proffered by our evil inclinations: “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matt. 26:41).

We are alert when we make an effort to improve our personal prayer, which in turn increases our desire for sanctity and helps us to avoid lukewarmness. We will also stay awake to the things of God by living a spirit of mortification.

We strengthen our vigilance and expectation doing a careful examination of conscience so that we don't fall into the situation described by St. Augustine. He says, “For whilst you give yourself up to evil, you come to consider yourself good, because you do not take the trouble to look at yourself. You reproach others and you do not take stock of yourself.

“You accuse others and you do not examine yourself. You place them before your very eyes and you place yourself behind your back. So when the time comes for me to reckon with you I shall do the opposite; I will turn you around and confront you with yourself. Then you will see yourself and you will weep” (St. Augustine, Sermon 17).

Our expectation of Our Lord has to be in the little things to fill up our day: “That supernatural mode of conduct is a truly military tactic,” says St. Josemaría in The Way, Point 307. “You carry on the war—the daily struggles of your interior life—far from the main walls of your fortress.

“And the enemy meets you there: in your small mortifications, your customary prayer, your methodical work, your plan of life: and only with difficulty will he come close to the easily scaled battlements of your castle. And if he does come, he arrives exhausted.”

If in our examination of conscience, we consider the little things of each day, we will find the true way and will discover the root causes of our failings in the love of God. Little things generally open the way to big things.

Our daily meditation will keep us on the lookout for the enemy, who never sleeps, and will give us strength to bear and to overcome temptations and difficulties. In that meditation, we will find too the means to struggle against the ‘old person,’ those less-than-upright tendencies that remain latent within us.

To achieve this necessary interior purification, we need to practice constant mortification of the memory and of the imagination. If we do this we will be able to eliminate from our understanding those troublesome things that prevent us from carrying out God's will to the full.

During these days before Christmas, we could try to tone up our interior purification so that we can receive Christ with a clean mind. We can try to get rid of anything that goes against, or does not belong to our way. Then our mind will no longer have in it anything that does not belong to Our Lord.

We are told in The Way, Point 173: “That joke, that witty remark held on the tip of your tongue; the cheerful smile for those who annoy you; that silence when you're unjustly accused; your friendly conversation with people whom you find boring and tactless; the daily effort to overlook one irritating detail or another in the persons who live with you…this, with perseverance, is indeed solid interior mortification.”

That purification of the soul through interior mortification is not something merely negative. It is not just a matter of avoiding what borders on sin; quite the opposite, it consists of knowing how to deprive oneself, for love of God, of things that it would be quite licit to have.

This mortification, which tends to purify the mind of everything that is not God, aims in the first place at freeing the memory from recollections that would oppose the way that leads to heaven.

Those recollections can assault us during our work or our rest, and even while we pray.

Without violence, but promptly, we will apply the means to get rid of them. We can struggle to make the effort which is necessary for our mind to fill itself once more with love, and a longing for the things of God.

Something similar can happen to the imagination. It can often upset us by inventing all kinds of novels, weaving fantastic fictions which are quite useless.

We are told in Point 13 of The Way: “Get rid of those useless thoughts which, at best, are but a waste of time.” Then, as well, we have to react quickly and return serenely to our ordinary task.

Interior purification does not end with emptying the understanding of useless thoughts. It goes much further; the mortification of our potencies opens up to us the way to contemplative life, in whatever circumstances God has wanted to place us.

With that interior silence towards everything that goes against God's wishes and is improper to His children, the soul finds itself well-disposed for a continuous and intimate dialogue with Jesus Christ.

In this dialogue our imagination helps contemplation—for example, when we contemplate the Gospel or the mysteries of the Holy Rosary. It is then that our memory recalls the wonders God has done, and His abundant goodness; and this will cause our hearts to burn with gratitude and ardent love.

The Advent liturgy repeats the urgent message many times: The Lord is coming and we have to prepare a broad path for Him; a clean heart. “Create in me a clean heart, O God” (Ps. 51:10).

We could try to make a resolution in our prayer today to empty our hearts of anything that may be displeasing to God.

We can make the resolution to purify our hearts through mortification and to fill them with the love of God while constantly showing our affection for Our Lord.

We do this in the same way that Our Lady and St. Joseph did, saying aspirations and making many acts of love and atonement.

Our Lord is coming to visit us, to bring us peace, and to give us the eternal life promised from of old. He has to find us like the good servant who does not fall asleep during his master's absence but, rather, when the master returns, is found at his post, devoted to his duty (cf. Mark 13:35-36).

We are told in the Gospel of St. Luke: “What I say to you, I say to all; watch” (Mark 13:37). These words are addressed to men of all times. They are words that Our Lord speaks to each one of us, because we—all of us—tend towards drowsiness and comfort-seeking.

We can easily lose our supernatural outlook, that outlook that can give life to everything we do.

Our Lord is coming, and we have to await His arrival with a vigilant spirit. We should not be fearful, like people caught doing wrong. We should not be distracted, like those who have placed their heart entirely in earthly goods. We should be attentive and cheerful, like eager people who expect a long-awaited loved one.

Keeping watch is above all a matter of loving. We may have difficulties in keeping our love awake: selfishness, a lack of mortification and temperance always threaten to extinguish the flame that Our Lord lights time and again in our hearts.

That is why we need constantly to revive the flame, to shake ourselves out of any repetitive routine, to struggle. St. Paul compares this watchfulness to the well-armed soldier on guard duty “who does not allow himself to be surprised” (cf. 1 Thess. 5:4).

The first Christians frequently repeated the aspiration, “Come, Lord Jesus.” Practicing their faith in this way, those faithful members of the Church found the interior strength and optimism that they needed if they were to fulfill their family and social duties.

At the same time they detached themselves interiorly from earthly goods, with the mastery that comes from the hope of eternal life.

Our meeting with Our Lord will not come unexpectedly for the Christian who has been on the watch. For him, He will not come “like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:2).

There will be no surprises, because there will already have been many meetings with Him each day; meetings in the Sacraments and in ordinary happenings of the day which have been full of love and friendship.

So the Church prays, “In your goodness, Lord, listen to your people's prayer. We rejoice at your Son's coming in human form, like our own; grant that when he comes again in majesty, we may receive the reward of eternal life” (Roman Missal, Collect, Mass for December 21).

Our Lady, who is Our Hope, will help us to improve in this season of Advent.

She awaits with hushed recollection the birth of her Son, who is the Messiah. All her thoughts are directed towards Jesus, who will be born in Bethlehem.

At her side, it will be easy for us to dispose our souls in such a way that the arrival of Jesus will not find us distracted by other things which have little or no importance in the light of the coming of God.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

JM