It is an Advent morning and somewhere – in Italy? Or in Poland? Mexico maybe? people are entering dark churches holding lamps in hand. Flickering lights of hope and prayer symbolize their owner’s desire: “Maranatha..” “Adveniat regnum tuum Domine”!
Where else can one find this spirit of expectation, this keen awareness of the pending Miracle of Miracles? In convents across the world, in churches big and small, in some – not all- Catholic schools, among members of religious movements… in some families, too.
Advent requires one to slow down, to leave “the world” and enter the Desert, to spend more time on prayer and meditation, to put aside all the transient, passing things. Ideally, we should wait for Jesus with Mary, His Mother – focused on the Mystery of Salvation. I am sure many Christians do this, year after year.
Just as many probably do not. Some have fallen off the Church and lost the sense of Tradition. They do not even miss Advent. Most do not even know something like that exists. They may miss Christmas lights on the house, or the tree or the presents, or the Christmas dinner – but not the Mystery of Advent. That is why in most Western countries Christmas trees go up soon after the beginning of November and are removed right after New Year.
Then there are those who know what Advent means and live each year in perpetual guilt because – for various reasons, they rush through those weeks as if God was not coming to Bethlehem. Yet they have the call to the Desert and long for it.
There are so many of us who wish they could “go into the deep end of pool” (of spiritual life) but somehow spend the whole life at the very shallow end of it. They would love to sit in a quiet church pew, Advent lantern in hand and immerse themselves in prayer and the sheer wonder of Christ the Child – yet they cannot do it. They look at the Desert with longing – yet it is so far away..
Among these are often mothers of small children. Sleep-deprived for years, they are lucky to pray Our Father in one piece and often spend the whole Mass chasing their lively offspring.
Families of the seriously sick or handicapped come next – they are lucky if they can have one night or day to themselves and a bit of rest. A cup of tea drunk in peace replaces meditation.
Serviceman and servicewomen of all kinds, those who take night shifts – their desert is their job.
Hundreds of thousands of men and women working away from their homes, in distant lands or on the sea.
Add to them also the overworked members of teaching professions who – exactly at this time of the year – are marking countless exams and submitting next semester’s course outlines – by the deadlines. And do not forget their long-suffering victims, the students who have to take these exams – in Advent.
If we cannot or would not come onto the Desert, the Desert comes to us.
Maria Kozakiewicz