Happy New Year! No, you don't have to check the bottom of the page
for the date. This is the December issue, and December 2nd is the First
Sunday of Advent, the beginning of the Church year.
With the
Advent guidance of St. John the Baptist and Mary our Blessed Mother we
prepare for Christmas and the celebration of the coming of Jesus Christ
in time. Through the prism of this time and season we prepare for the
second coming of the Lord at the end of time.
People often
complain about the commercialization of Christmas. This year, however,
it seems to me that there is a more acute, a finer sense of the
spiritual to the season. The trauma of September 11th and its aftermath
have carved out a sharper focus on the truths of the heart, the verities
of the soul.
Flannery O'Connor, the superb Catholic novelist and
short story writer who died in 1964 at the age of 39, provides a lift
for our reflection in these days. She lived for years with an incurable
disease, yet there is hardly a hint of self pity in her writings. Her
insights are penetrating, all the more so because of her self
deprecating sense of humor. At one point she wrote in a letter, "I am
bearing this with my usual magnificent fortitude."
Flannery had a
way of envisioning God at the edge of things: the horizon over a lake or
an ocean, the tops of trees in a forest, the peak of a mountain. For us
who can't help but have a keener sense these days that all life is
lived on the edge of a precipice, such thoughts have enhanced resonance.
She
claimed not to be a mystic, but she wrote movingly of the unseen
vision, the unheard echo which attend all our experience. The current
surveys indicating significant increases in people praying and going to
church would testify that there is wider appreciation today of those
insights.
Flannery articulated strong convictions on the Real
Presence of Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. Those sentiments bear
stronger relevance as we witness these days more people at Mass and in
prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. This year's celebration of the
Incarnation consequently sparkles even more warmly with festive glow of
the season.
I believe, therefore, that there is generally a more
profound sense of the spiritual in our celebration of Advent and
Christmas this year.
The exchange of cards reminds us more
poignantly that the Nativity has provided inspiration for more paintings
than any other subject in history.
The lights of the season speak
to us more urgently of the One Light who illumines our hearts, Jesus
Christ, the Light of the World.
The sharing of gifts reminds us
more profoundly that our very lives are gifts, God's gifts. We did not
begin all this. Our response is expected.
Because of the stronger
sense of spiritual reflection, it seems to me that the tone of our
seasonal music this year is rising, more than before, above merely
canned carols and hollow hymns. We are singing the hymns of the
centuries with renewed fervor:
- "Creator of the Stars of Night" (7th century)
- "Come, O Come Emmanuel" (12th century)
- "Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming" (15th century)
- "The First Noel" (17th century)
- "Adeste Fidelis" (18th century)
- "Silent Night" (19th century)
In
God's grace may our lives develop as hymns of the 21st century, lives
in vibrant harmony with God's love. May this love be our peace and the
peace of the world.
Happy New Year and Merry Christmas!
Most Rev. Henry J. Mansell
Bishop of Buffalo
December 1, 2001