First Sunday of Advent - Traditional Latin Mass
/First Sunday of Advent (Mass of the 1962 Missal)
27 November 2022
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.
The liturgical observance of the Church’s faith follows a cyclical pattern. This means that we visit and cycle through the same observances year after year. This repetition serves to teach us by reinforcing important lessons of the spiritual life for our salvation. And, this repetition allows us the opportunity, through a life of grace lived over the course of many years, the possibility of diving more deeply into the mysteries we observe annually. Today begins the liturgical cycle in a new year of grace. For good reason the Incarnation stands out among the mysteries of faith as the unique and signal beacon of salvation history. This Advent period of preparation calls to mind the ages of history and prophecy leading up to the Incarnation. Upon arriving at Christmas the Church continues the liturgical cycle the rest of the year by observing the great events in the life of Christ by which he inaugurates the Kingdom of God in our midst, accomplishes mankind’s salvation, and offers man his grace in his Church in preparation for the final judgment.
The word “advent” means “an arrival” or a “coming.” In Latin we hear this all the time in the Our Father where we pray, “adveniat regnum tuum” where it clearly means “may thy kingdom come.” In other words, may God’s kingdom arrive here, on earth as it is in heaven. We use “advent” in other ways to refer to some notable event, or arrival in the sense of a development. We might say that the advent of the printing press changed how information is shared. We can refer to the advent of “the pill” as the beginning of the demise of sexual morality. In this season of penitential preparation we are thinking of the arrival of God in the flesh, already accomplished, which we will celebrate at Christmas; and, we are thinking of His arrival still to come at the end of time at his Second Coming.
In this season we prepare ourselves to appreciate more deeply what the Incarnation means for us. We also prepare ourselves for what it will mean for us on that unknown day and hour when our Incarnate Lord will come “in a cloud with great power and majesty.” We might say that in Advent we prepare for the double coming of mercy and justice. We can equate that first arrival of the Lord as the coming of mercy. Seeing man’s sad state, it is the arrival of mercy that God came in our flesh. He has drawn near to make it possible for us to draw near to Him. He has bridged the divide. And we can equate the second coming with the arrival of justice. God expects man to respond to his coming near, to respond to His gifts of grace and generous love. We will be judged by whether we remain near to Him in the state of grace when He returns in justice among the clouds in glory and majesty.
Though the arrival of God in the flesh on that first Christmas, amid angels singing “Glory to God” was a cause of fright for the shepherds keeping watch in the fields, there is not much for us to be frightened by at the prospect of the first coming of the Lord at Christmas. For us, it is a tender truth of the faith, a great sign of hope, and a blessed and relaxing time to be with ones we love. The Second Coming, however, is another story. Given the signs of distress, confusion, and turmoil that are prophesied to accompany the Second Coming, we need a sober admission that some fear is in order. Now as a preacher of the full Gospel, I am not wanting the message today to be one of anxiety and terror. But given that we live in a day and age that is far too lax about the rigors of eternal judgment it is probably best to err on the side of encouraging some healthy discomfort and fear. The road to hell, after all, is paved with good intentions. And the heresy of universalism by which it is assumed that everyone is simply going to heaven is alive and well. There is a delicious irony that so soon after our national day of thanksgiving, which we rightly celebrate, but which might be described as rather gluttonous, a day from which we might still be sobering up… there is a delicious irony that we so quickly come face-to-face with the charge to wake up, to think about how we are living so as to observe well the first coming of the Lord at Christmas and to prepare with seriousness for the second coming of the Lord as Judge.
We walk a fine line as Catholics. We don’t profess faith in the first coming in a delirious fashion such that we ignore the second coming. And we don’t cower in terror as we profess faith in the Second Coming, precisely because we always remember the first coming and the hope the Incarnation brings us, a hope in whose honor we genuflect at each Creed and each final Gospel. Beginning this new year of grace and this season of preparation, aware as we are that there will be terrifying signs in the cosmos that accompany the Lord’s return, we hear and heed the call to not dwell in terror, even as we hold on to reverential fear that motivates us. I say this because the Gospel itself, upon mentioning the tumult of the end times, gives us a surprising charge. In the face of terrifying signs we would naturally tend to hunker down and hide and brace ourselves. But the Gospel tells us, “when these things begin to come to pass, look up and lift up your heads…” Why? “Because,” it says, “your redemption is at hand.”
And so, our response always is to live the generous grace that has flooded human history in that first coming of mercy so that we are ready in the ways the Lord knows will be sufficient for that second coming of justice. The epistle gives us clear direction: our salvation is nearer now. Each day when we awake is a little preparation. The same images apply to the second coming. Light is approaching. It is time to wake up. It is time to get out of the darkness of sin. It is time to shake the sleep from our eyes. And most evocative, the epistle tells us it is time to “put on the armor of light.”
When I wake up each day, when I leave the darkness of night, when I shake the sleep from my eyes, I generally follow the same simple routine, and I bet you do too. I am not looking for much novelty when the alarm goes off each morning. The routine of getting up and getting ready is familiar. That might be a good image for us in the spiritual life and in preparations for the Second Coming. We don’t need novelties and we don’t need much that is new. We need the routine and the familiar. So, what is our proven armor of light? Do you give time for meaningful personal prayer on a daily basis? You should. And seek to grow and increase in the time you give to God. Do you turn off the noise and the absurd ways we keep ourselves distracted such that you can pray a daily Rosary? You should. It is a privileged weapon in the battle and no armored saint would be without that sword. Do you confess your sins regularly? You should. The Judge is coming. So, judge yourself honestly now in confession and you will be more ready and aided to live in grace. Do you unite yourself at the Holy Mass, lifting yourself, your needs, and your prayers on the paten and in the chalice, making yourself part of the offering on the altar? You should. Here we have the sacramental participation of the one sacrifice of the Lord who has already come in mercy. Here we are renewed in the armor of light. Here we practice lifting up our heads to see him coming in justice. We do so with reverence and confidence for our redemption is at hand.
IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, AND OF THE SON, AND OF THE HOLY GHOST. AMEN.