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A new
liturgical year urges us forward
PRAISED BE JESUS
CHRIST!
(Now and Forever)
Advent is here, again. It marks the beginning of a new liturgical year,
a year of grace as it is sometimes called: Advent, the Christmas Season,
Lent, the Easter Season and Ordinary Time.
Before the secular world’s transformation of the feast of the Nativity
into the “holidays,” with its intense commercialization that now extends
over the better part of six to eight weeks, Easter was easily recognized
as the summit of the liturgical year. Now, however, in secular society,
Easter comes and goes with marginal notoriety and the year-end
“holidays” — aka Christmas — gets all the hoopla. Nonetheless, the
framework within which the Church celebrates the mystery of Christ from
the Incarnation until the day of Pentecost is a liturgical year. The
presence of the Risen Christ and his salvific work permeates that entire
year during which we are called to become holy and during which the
means by which that holiness is made possible are made available to us.
Acknowledging the reality of sin and the human frailty rooted in
original sin, this year of grace instructs that Jesus did not live his
life for himself, but for us, and that he is our “advocate with
the Father,” who makes intercession for us, who remains ever “in the
presence of God” on our behalf, bringing before him all that he, as the
Christ, lived and suffered for us (Heb. 7:25/9:24).
All this evolved over time. The origins of Advent are not easily traced.
It seems to date back to what today is France (ancient Gaul) and a
desire to prepare for the feast of Epiphany, which was a baptismal
feast. As such, it was thought there should be a time of preparation
similar to that of Lent, a period of fasting and prayer that initially
extended over a period of three weeks, but which later was lengthened to
40 days. It became known as St. Martin’s Lent because it began on the
feast of St. Martin of Tours, Nov. 11. The Poor Clare Nuns of Kokomo
observe a variation of this extended Advent even today.
In the latter part of the fourth century, a local council (Saragossa)
ordered that there be a three-week fast before Epiphany, beginning on
Dec. 17. Some 100 years later, the Diocese of Tours, beginning on Nov.
11, observed fasting three days a week, a custom that in 581 was
extended to all the dioceses of France. This practice eventually made
its way to England. This penitential flavor no doubt is why purple
vestments are used even today during the Season of Advent. Advent once
was a little Lent.
When Advent began to appear in Rome, it was seen as preparation for
Christmas and not Epiphany. There was no fasting. Pope Gregory the
Great, who died in 604, was the one who composed liturgical texts for
Advent and decreed it be celebrated during the four weeks prior to the
feast of the Nativity.
When the Roman Rite was introduced into Gaul in the ninth century, the
fast and penitential spirit of the Gallican Advent, which had begun to
place emphasis on the second coming of Christ, was incorporated into the
Roman Rite. This mixture of Gallican and Roman made its way back to Rome
in the 10th century and from there began to spread through the Church in
the West. All of which illustrates that the liturgy of the Church has
always undergone change and will continue to do so in the future. The
next big adjustment for us, it would seem, will come when the English
translation of the third edition of the Roman Missal is finally approved
by the Vatican. The Mass will be the same, but the translation we have
become familiar with over the past 35 years will be somewhat different.
Today, Advent has a two-fold character: the period up to Dec. 16
strongly focuses on Christ’s second coming, his return in glory, with
emphasis placed on our need to be ready to meet Christ as Judge. Dec.
17-25 serves as a more immediate preparation for the feast of the
Nativity: the mystery of the Incarnation.
The first reading for the Sundays of Advent presents the main Messianic
prophecies. The Gospel reading for the first Sunday exhorts Christians
to watch and to be ready; the second and third Sundays highlight the
figure and message of John the Baptist; and the fourth Sunday of Advent
tells of the Annunciation of Mary (year A), the Annunciation to Joseph
(year B) and the Visitation (year C).
Advent clearly is intended to deepen and strengthen our awareness of
Christ’s presence in his Church and in its members. It celebrates his
first coming, his presence in the Church now, and the anticipation of
his full and final coming when he will complete the work of redemption.
The bottom line: We are urged in the model of John the Baptist to
prepare the way of the Lord.
All this might seem a bit heady. It clearly is countercultural. Amid the
intense commercialization that has captured the weeks prior to Dec. 25,
it is not easy to take the Advent Season and its somber themes
seriously. Nor is it easy to delay the celebration of the Nativity until
the Christmas Season when everyone else has already begun packing away
their Christmas ornaments for the next year. However a person rolls with
the tension between the holiday activities of our secular society and
the call of the Church to utilize the Season of Advent for our spiritual
advantage, there is one thing we should not overlook. Advent is a period
of preparation. As such it should include the sacrament of
reconciliation.
The former emphasis on fasting has disappeared under the dust of
history, but the importance of receiving the sacrament of reconciliation
during Advent has not. It may be, in fact, far more challenging to some
than fasting would be. Yet, one can hardly enter into the spirit of
Advent as a period of preparation without it.
And what might be a fitting penance given in the sacrament of
reconciliation? Perhaps a commitment of fidelity to Mass weekend after
weekend throughout the liturgical year. After all, the Lord we prepare
to greet at Christmas, in our final judgment and in our daily lives has
put it to us: Do this in memory of me! Looking above the crèche
to the figure of the crucified Christ should remove all doubt about his
seriousness when he uttered those words at the first Mass. |
