Nay had the apple taken been...Nay had never our lady of
been heaven queen. Blessed be the time that apple taken was, Therefore we maun
singen: Deo gratias! ("Adam Lay Ybounden")
The angel Gabriel from Heaven came, his wings of drifted snow, his eyes of flame.... ("Gabriel's Message")
He said to his daughters, "Where is
he then? Why is it that you have left the man behind? Invite him to have
something to eat." Exodus 2:20
...Truly I tell you, whatever you did
for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me. Matthew 25:40
When I think of Advent, I am always filled with awe at the
mystery before me. Advent carols and texts that have their roots in past
centuries portray an elegant primitive set of stories from our past. They
paint a picture of our failings, desires, hopes, and blessings. We are
always spiritual beings trying to navigate our humanity, and this experience
binds us together even more than our beliefs.
Anticipation and preparation fill Advent with its own
rituals and creativity. The idea of waiting doesn't stir me as much as
the idea of being watchful and aware. The present moment has so much to
give. Waiting for God isn't like waiting for a bus or a doctor's
appointment. It is like preparing one's home and life and heart to
welcome God in all the miraculous forms that God takes.
I heard on the radio yesterday a story from someone who runs
an inner-city free meal program. The team he works with decided to
elevate the mission of the program to feed more than bellies, by extending
hand-written invitations that they took to places where people congregate, like
public parks. The premise of this gesture was to ensure that people who often
feel uninvited would experience something different and know that their
presence was requested and valued. The meals are called "dinner
parties" and have servers who come to the dining tables. The effect
this has had on people who have known nothing like this in their lives has been
stunning and transformative.
The message from this story was that all of us have room in
our hearts and lives to include someone who has been excluded from others'
lives - often their own families. How we decide to extend an invitation
to someone is up to us, but it is certainly a gift that most of us are capable
of giving. The result helps all of us to continue to make room to welcome
God. I read that the Rule of St. Benedict instructs the doorkeeper to greet any
visitor or person looking for assistance with "Deo gratias".
A prayer from "the 'O' antiphons":
O Flower of Jesse's stem, you have been raised up as a sign for all peoples: Come, let nothing keep you from coming to our aid...O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of Justice: Come, shine on those who dwell in darkness...O Ruler of all the nations, the only joy of every human heart, O keystone of the mighty arch of humankind, Come and save the creature you fashioned from the dust. Deo gratias!
Mollie Manner
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