The Eighth Advent O Antiphon: Why marvel ye at me?

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. An additional antiphon dedicated to the Blessed Virgin was added in some English Churches and by certain religious orders during medieval times. The original seven antiphons are moved back by one day so this antiphon could be prayed on December 23rd.

O Virgin of virgins,
how shall this be?
For neither before was any like thee,
nor shall there be after.
Daughters of Jerusalem,
why marvel ye at me?
That which ye behold is a divine mystery.

Mary drags us to her Son, Jesus. Yet we resist her.

She points to Him. She disappears into the background for Him. She gives up the ‘normal’ life she could have had, for Him. She suffers for Him. She follows Him and serves Him — not as the glorified maiden, but as a maidservant.

I am the handmaid of the Lord.

Her action, work, love, and dedication are theologized to such an extent that we miss her humanity. Her simple humanity submitted itself fully to the Lord. Trusting, not knowing. Hearing, not debating. Serving, not bemoaning honorifics.

Would that we take her at her word: Why marvel ye at me? Would that we follow her example all the more closely. Would that we allow ourselves to be carried away, subsumed fully by the mystery of the Incarnation. Would that we say with her,

Be it done unto me according to Thy word.

Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent

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Because He said it…
believe it!

“Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

The Annunciation – that moment where the angel Gabriel told Mary that God had chosen her. The dialog goes on and we hear Mary say yes to God. She says yes to the impossible.

Months before that Zechari’ah was serving in the temple when the Gabriel appeared to him and told him that his elderly wife Elizabeth would have a baby. Zechari’ah didn’t believe that the impossible could happen, even with an angel telling him (a seemingly impossible event in and of itself). Because of this disbelief Zechari’ah was left without speech.

Today, we hear of the confluence of these events. Mary travels to see Elizabeth, to serve her in her pregnancy. As Mary arrives, and sounds her greeting, the seemingly impossible happens. John, still in his mother’s womb leaps for joy. John leapt for joy not just because of the sound of Mary’s voice. He leapt because of the presence of God in her womb. How could this be possible?

Throughout salvation history the impossible has happened. A small tribal people became God’s people. They were saved in miraculous ways. In the fullness of time God came to us through them, and offered Himself for our redemption and salvation. He died and rose from the dead, and from there His word spread throughout the world at the hands of fishermen, tent makers, tax collectors, and others. That word went out and was accepted by new groups of people and nations who all became God’s chosen people.

Consider too that the time of the impossible has not ended. The saints and martyrs – and all who hold and profess our common Christian faith have accomplished the impossible. In the history of our Holy Church, a small group of people worked together, and democratically, to organize a new society of faith, a new Church to carry out the seemingly impossible. Now its work is spreading around the globe.

As with Mary’s example, we must be prepared to believe that there are no barriers in God. With Him, nothing is impossible and conversely, the impossible is nothing to us. God’s grace is powerful and can accomplish everything. We must take up and accept that grace, agreeing to be His allies and His workers in carrying out the impossible.

Walter Cronkite used to say: “And that’s the way it is.” Let us be joyous as Elizabeth and the pre-born John were, that God continues to speak to us, to call us, to accomplish the impossible through us. That is the way it is with God. Because He says it, believe it! We are blessed who believe.

The Seventh Advent O Antiphon: Come to save us, Lord our God

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. Each antiphon is a name of Christ, one of his attributes mentioned in Scripture.

O Emmanuelu,
nasz Królu i Prawodawco,
oczekiwany zbawicielu narodów,
przyjdź, aby nas wybawić
nasz Panie i Boże

O Emmanuel,
our King and Lawgiver,
the one awaited by the gentiles,
and their Savior:
come to save us,
Lord our God.

Come thou long expected Jesus! Come, O come, Emmanuel — God with us.

You are with us indeed, ever present on the altar and in the tabernacle. You are present in our coming together and in our work. You are present in our solitude and in our pain.

Lord, you are with us. Not just as a man, or as a spirit, but as the God-man. You are the perfection to which we are drawn. Yours is the kingdom which is now, but not yet. We are part of it, still striving toward it, and fully acknowledging that which is unfulfilled. Our thirst remains.

The vision of You is what we long for, not in the accidents of bread, but You in all Your reality and power, face to face. You, as Moses saw You. You, who swept across the waters and breathed life into the nostrils of the first man. You, for Whom we are sorely unprepared.

Lord, our God, Emmanuel, we cannot quench our thirst. We know we can only be complete in You, in Your totality and your reality. Come to save us. Come Lord Jesus come!

The Sixth Advent O Antiphon: Come and save mankind

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. Each antiphon is a name of Christ, one of his attributes mentioned in Scripture.

O Królu narodów
przez nie upragniony,
kamieniu węgielny Kościoła,
przyjdź zbaw człowieka,
którego utworzyłeś z prochu ziemi.

O King of the Nations,
and the one they desired,
keystone,
who makes both peoples one,
come and save mankind,
whom you shaped from the mud.

You have fashioned and created us, formed us in the womb. You are our beginning and our ending, yet we reject You.

You are the keystone, the cornerstone, the stone the builders rejected. Because of that rejection You have made us co-heirs, adopted sons and daughters, yet for all this generosity we know You not.

You come to us weak and vulnerable, God in the flesh, we nailed You to a tree. You come again and again, in word and in food, word that flies by our ears and food we eat without an afterthought.

Come and save us indeed, save us from ourselves. Save us from the pull of the world which longs to return us to the mud.

You have fashioned and created us, formed us in the womb. You are our beginning and our ending, You know us best, and that is why You come, over and over, to save us.

The Fifth Advent O Antiphon: Come, and shine on those seated in darkness

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. Each antiphon is a name of Christ, one of his attributes mentioned in Scripture.

O Wschodzie,
Blasku światłości wieczystej
i Słońce sprawiedliwości,
przyjdź i oświeć
żyjących w mroku
i cieniu śmierci.

O Dawn,
splendor of eternal light,
and sun of justice,
come, and shine
on those seated in darkness,
and in the shadow of death.

So we sit in darkness waiting for something to happen to us, for the light to break through. We wallow in our self imposed agony, O God, when will you set us free?

We forget that He already set us free. We are free to choose Him, an easy choice if you consider the alternatives. We are free to enter into union with Him, every day at the altar; a great gift and blessing.

But still we sit and cry out, expecting the quick fix and the black and white answer. They will not come unless we open ourselves to what is already among us. What we need to do is allow the light of the new Dawn to shine in us, to set ourselves aside, and to work in truth, to struggle — fighting the good fight, and by doing so we will succeed — eternal life, eternal light.

The Fourth Advent O Antiphon: You open, and no one shuts

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. Each antiphon is a name of Christ, one of his attributes mentioned in Scripture.

O Kluczu Dawida
i Berło domu Izraela,
Ty który otwierasz a nikt zamknąć nie zdoła,
zamykasz a nikt nie otworzy,
przyjdź i wyprowadź
z więzienia
człowieka pogrążonego
w cieniu śmierci.

O Key of David,
and scepter of the house of Israel,
you open, and no one shuts,
you shut, and no one opens:
come, and lead the prisoner
from jail,
seated in darkness
and in the shadow of death.

Definitely not literal! How many times do we seek the easy answer, the black and white definition; the answer to our longing, but on our terms?

The Lord asks us to come and follow Him. He opens the narrow path for us, and He can even allow the rich man to pass through the eye of the needle. But, we see no easy answer because we cannot let go of our complexity.

Come follow me is quite easy, but it means leaving ourselves behind. He opens the way — for He is the way. He will, by His grace, close the door to our self-centered desires, our prison, because as we fall into His arms, arms of love, we will never desire anything else. He is the key, the gate, and the door. Lord, help us enter into the sheepfold through You. Lord, be our shepherd.

The Third Advent O Antiphon: Set us free, put it off no longer

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. Each antiphon is a name of Christ, one of his attributes mentioned in Scripture.

O Korzeniu Jessego,
który się wznosisz jako znak dla narodów,
przed Tobą zamilkną królowie,
a ludy będą się modlić do Ciebie,
przyjdź nas wyzwolić
już dłużej nie zwlekaj.

O Root of Jesse,
who stand as a sign for the people,
kings stand silent in your presence,
whom the nations will worship:
come to set us free,
put it off no longer.

A shoot shall spout from the stump of Jesse’s tree. From a nation of no account, in human terms, the Savior shall come to us. From what appears to be a dead nation, a shoot of new life, Life that will redeem all life.

God comes to us in ways and forms that are unexpected. He came to Moses in the burning bush, He wrestled with Jacob, He came in a whisper to Elijah, and as a child in a manger among the outcasts. Jesus the enigma, the God-man whose depths we barely plumb, can only be met in worship, the collective action of a community committed to Him.

Worship is our stance — arguments about kneeling, standing, prostrating notwithstanding. We, king or pauper, can do nothing more or less than worship God our Father, the Son our King, and the Spirit our life. It is the only response we can make. Our words are but senseless groaning before the throne of the King of kings. But he deigns to hear us, to love us, to incorporate us, and to free us.

Come Lord Jesus, put it off no longer. We are waiting.

The Second Advent O Antiphon: Redeem us with outstretched arm

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. Each antiphon is a name of Christ, one of his attributes mentioned in Scripture.

O Adonai,
Wodzu Izraela,
Tyś w krzaku gorejącym objawił się Mojżeszowi
i na Syjonie dałeś mu Prawo,
przyjdź nas wyzwolić swym potężnym ramieniem.

O Mighty Lord,
and leader of the house of Israí«l,
who appeared to Moses in the burning bush,
and on Sinai gave him the law,
come to redeem us with outstretched arm.

The Mighty Lord, the one who can save us with an outstretched arm. He comes with power and in radiant glory, on clouds, with chariot wheels of fire. Power, might, strength, authority, supremacy, control, command… synonyms we recognize when we think of that God — the one of the Parousia.

Redemption was begun with God’s outstretched arm, His reaching out to meet us in the form of a child, a child holding his arms out, seeking the comfort of his mother. Not power in any sense we understand.

Redemption was indeed accomplished with God’s outstretched arm — stretched out on the wood of the cross. What kind of power is that? It is the antithesis of the God we want. Yet that is the power of redemption accomplished through perfect love. True power is synonymous with love.

The First Advent O Antiphon: Teach us the way of prudence

The O Antiphons are said before the Magnificat at Vespers in the last seven days of Advent. Each antiphon is a name of Christ, one of his attributes mentioned in Scripture.

O Mądrości,
która wyszłaś z ust Najwyższego,
Ty obejmujesz wszechświat od końca do końca
i wszystkim rządzisz z mocą i słodyczą,
przyjdź i naucz nas dróg roztropności.

O Wisdom,
who proceeds from the mouth of the Most High,
reaching out mightily from end to end,
and sweetly arranging all things:
come to teach us the way of prudence.

The perfect Wisdom of God, expected from age to age, for whom the patriarchs and prophets stood watch, was brought to us in the Word, spoken by the Father and sent to us for our salvation. The Word of Wisdom from on high, Jesus Christ, sent to teach us prudence.

Prudence, synonymous with carefulness, cautiousness, discretion, good sense, and forethought is the antithesis of the worldly. Rather than the headlong rush to tomorrow, to the next dollar, or victory over our perceived enemies, beg the Lord: Teach us prudence, let us not fall under the power and ways of wicked and foolish men.

Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent

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Why!

Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Today we listen to words of joy, encouragement, gladness, and exultation. We hear of God’s provision for His people. We are reassured that we share in love because God is among us. We also share in the wonderful gift of forgiveness and renewal. We follow John the Baptist’s admonition to repent before the coming of the Lord.

The events of this week in Newtown turn the message of rejoicing on its head. How can we rejoice? How can we be glad and exult? Faced with these words we turn to God with hearts and minds full of questions, maybe questions tinged with anger.

Philosophers and theologians have explanations for all this, but what good are explanations when our hearts are filled with sadness and grief? Can explanations help when our hearts are downcast and our minds fearful? What has happened? God, couldn’t you have intervened!?!

Then we consider our confession and repentance. We look at our sins, and we think, my sins are so small, so insignificant, so trifling. Why should I feel guilt and remorse for my small sins, to have to repent, when there is such serious evil and so much sickness in the world?

In a few days, the next ugly thing will happen. Some person, claiming to be Christian, will burst out with blame for one group or another, and say that God is purposefully punishing us.

We, who follow Jesus can be reassured that God’s peace surpasses our human understanding. Christ came to live among us, not just to appear and go back. He did not come to punish, but to bring healing and renewal. He is not just an antidote to evil, someone we can conjure up in hard and sad times, but the light that destroys evil.

In our confession and repentance we bear witness and re-align ourselves with right and truth. We stay on the right track and call the world to do the same. Renewed, we set out to be God’s light, bearing Christ with us. We bring love where there is little, joy where there is none, comfort where there is despair. Healing to the sick.

God has not left us abandoned and alone. He is intervening every day through us. This Sunday let our hearts take comfort and overcome. Stand up and rejoice in the face of despair and sadness because in the midst of horrible tragedy we will bear the light of Christ to the world – a light that no darkness can overcome.