In the present as in the past, my wandering disorientation during Advent usually comes back into focus by Gaudete Sunday, the third of four holy days, when the Shepherd's Candle is lit. As noted before, I am often ready for the first Sunday when the Prophet's candle of hope is kindled. After that I become distracted and have to play catch up during Advent II if the Bethlehem candle of faith is to be lit - and I'm usually late. By Advent III the new rhythm is starting to take root and I find I am looking forward to lighting the Shepherd's candle of joy as I anticipate the Angel's candle of love on Advent IV. On December 17, a week before Christmas, the monastic tradition adds the "O Antiphons" to the daily office of song and prayer. They are the ancient Latin names for the Messiah including wisdom, God, Root of Jesse, Key of David, Dayspring, Ruler of Nations, God with us. As my friend, Pam, notes in her fun, insightful and lovely articulation of the O Antiphon tradition: there is a hidden message in these ancient prayers - a playful acrostic - that can be decoded like this:
Drop the beginning O’s. The first letter of each line then spell S-A-R-C-O-R-E. Reverse the order of those letters, to make two words: ERO CRAS. n Latin “Ero cras” means “Tomorrow I will be” or “I will be present.” It all leads to Emmanuel — “God with us.
O Sapientia (Wisdom) — Proverbs 1: 20
O Adonai (God) — Isaiah 40: 9-10
O Radix Jesse (Root of Jesse) — Isaiah 11:10
O Clavis David (Key of David) — Isaiah 22:22
O Oriens (Dayspring) — Isaiah 9:2
O Rex Gentium (Ruler of the nations) — Isaiah 2: 4
O Emmanuel (God with us) — Isaiah 7: 14
//askherabouthymn.com. For a familiar way to sing these prayers, please see The New Century Hymnal's reworking of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel.")
My heart rejoices in singing the O Antiphons. I also grow closer to the holy whenever Mary's "Magnificat" is included in the liturgy. The Roman Catholic, Anglican and Lutheran traditions always insert this song of praise for the Psalm on Advent III, but many of the Reformed churches do not to our collective loss. The text is brilliant - and it has trained me to consider this week in Advent as a time to honor Mary.
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord;
my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked upon his lowly servant.
From this day all generations will call me blessed:
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
The Almighty has done great things for me and holy is his Name.
He has mercy on those who fear him in every generation.
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and the rich he has sent away empty.
He has come to the help of his servant Israel
for he has remembered his promise of mercy,
My spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
For one who did not grow up with any connection to Our Lady,my devotion to Mary has matured over the years as her wisdom and spirituality shapes my own. While reading the new biography of Jean Vanier, I came across an evocative quote from St. Frances de Sales that is filled with Marian wisdom: "Be like little children: as long as they feel their mother is holding onto their cuff, they go forth boldly and run around. They are not surprised by the little trifles they experiences because of the weakness in their legs." (Anne-Sophie Constant, Jean Vanier: Portrait of a Free Man, p. 43.)
Vanier has stated in his commentary on St. John's gospel that the presence of Mary is vivid in this text. Not only has Mary shaped her son's intimate spiritual communion with God, but she has shared stories and experiences about Jesus with the evangelist that are found no place else. These are the insights only a mother would remember - which rings true to me. A passage from Henri Nouwen's conversation about living into the spirituality of Jesus in a time of anxiety amplifies the influence of Mary on the ministry of Jesus. Nouwen writes:
Jesus came to reveal to us the first love (before all brokenness.) It is the original love... (which) says, "I have loved you before you could love anyone or before you could receive love from any one. I have accepted you. You are accepted. You are loved no matter what mother, father, brother, sister,school, church, society does. You are born out of my love. I have breathed you out of my love. I have spoken you out of my love. You are the incarnation of my love and in me there is no hatred, there is no revenge, there is no resentment. There is nothing that wants to reject you. I love you. Can you trust that love?"
This is a unique love. It is not "transactional" or dependent on repayment according to Nouwen. "The transactional quality of worldly love is precisely why people are always in trouble. If they give something they expect something in return." But the love of Jesus is different: it is relational. Intimate and grace-filled, like Mary herself, whom the angel Gabriel called "full of grace." All that is asked of us is that we trust this love. And trust is built on experiences of intimacy where we are held, nurtured, taught, and cherished simply for being. Jesus embodies the love of God he experienced from the inside out by trusting the grace of Mary. For those who have known this love, he invites us to do likewise.
Adonai, my heart isn’t proud;
I don’t set my sight too high,
I don’t take part in great affairs
or in wonders far beyond me.
No, I keep myself calm and quiet,
like a little child on its mother’s lap —
I keep myself like a little child.
So many of us have not known this grace-filled love. We find it challenging and often perplexing to trust it. That is why we must know it from the inside out. It is not an academic exercise. It is a change of heart. A mystical encounter with love beyond our comprehension. And the good news is that everyone can taste this love if we are willing to open ourselves to quiet prayer. "How do we know this love?" writes Nouwen.
Prayer. We have to pray in order to let the first love (of God) touch us so that we can trust it again. We pray to know not only in our head, but in our heart, and in the center of our being that we are fully loved... We pray so that we can walk around the world and not be so needy, not be wounding others, and not be giving so that we can get something in return. We pray to be free. (Nouwen, Following Jesus, p. 58)
We sit in solitude so that we can trust. René Girard, the French anthropologist turned theologian, describes it as a inward, mystical experience of reconnecting to God's first love like this:
Our first encounter is passive and involuntary in nature. It is not preceded by any warning and does not require any effort. (It is a gift.) The second characteristic is joy. A third is a feeling of eternity that cannot be separated from its infinite power of renewal, its extraordinary fertility And the last characteristic combines all the others and that is an intuition of a divine presence... (As the prophet Isaiah says,) "Since you were precious in my sight... I have loved you." (Constant, p. 32)
More than anything else I do these days I wish to trust and share this first love. I am letting a few new ways simmer and percolate within me during Advent to see how they might come to birth after Christmas. Like that small child in her mother's lap, I am sitting in the quiet and waiting. Beyond the Magnificat, the prayer that grounds me most in this quiet time is the Salve Regina:
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with Thee.
Blessed art Thou among women
And blessed is the fruit of Thy womb Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
Pray for us sinners now
And at the time of our death.
Amen.
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