Vol. 2, No. 24 (December 18, 1999)
For this
special edition of Saturday Ramblins
I, along with others, was asked to write about an event, an object, a tradition
or a memory that brings home to me the true meaning of Christmas – something
that brings Christ through all the tinsel, glitter, over-crowded malls, and
frantic shopping.
What “keeps
Christ in Christmas” for me is an immovable determination that Christmas starts on December 25. I sometimes see
my self as a one-woman warrior for the cause. I’m even losing out in church,
that bastion of liturgical propriety. Oh, yes, the church still observes
Advent, lights the advent wreath, and decorates the clergy and furnishings with
blue or purple. Except in rare instances, though, the season of Advent isn’t
taught and even homilies often get lost in pre-Christmas hype.
I love the liturgical season of Advent –
the four weeks preceding the celebration of Christmas. I love Advent for it is
the season when we truly “await in joyous hope the coming of our Savior Jesus
Christ.” We await the second coming of Jesus – the day he returns in glory.
Personally, I truly wouldn’t mind if they made the season a little longer.
For me, the
best part of Advent is the later days – those we’ve just entered. For those who
observe the liturgical hours of daily morning and evening prayer, the focus has
just changed. Starting at evening prayer last night, the “Great O” antiphons
precede the singing/saying of the Magnificat, Mary’s song of praise:
“O Wisdom”, “O
Sacred Lord”, “O Flower of Jesse’s stem”, “O Key of David”, “O Radiant Dawn”,
“O King of Nations”, “O Emmanuel, king and lawgiver” – each day’s phrase calls
upon Jesus in his historic titles. Likewise, each phrase ends with an
accompanying request pointing toward that day when He comes again. In order,
they are:
“…come and
show us the way to salvation.”
“…come and
redeem us with an outstretched arm.”
“…come to our
aid.”
“…come break
down the prison walls of death…and lead your captive people free.”
“…come and
shine on us who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.”
“…come and
save us whom you formed from the clay.”
“…come and set
us free, O Lord our God.”
If those “O”
phrases sound familiar it is because in the ninth century they were combined
from the ancient office antiphons into the Advent hymn Veni Emmanuel. In the 19th century the hymn was translated into the
familiar “O come, O come, Emmanuel.”
Oh – and about
that “tinsel, glitter, over-crowded malls, and frantic shopping” thing. My
Advent wreath is on the dining room table. The Christmas decorations are still
in the attic. I have not bought a single present (yet) – but I have ventured a
thought toward it. I am going out –
this morning – really.