Two years ago, I professed my final vows as a Dominican Sister of Blauvelt. Originally founded to care for immigrant orphans, with the changing times, my congregation’s mission is now to preach the Good News to the poor and the marginalized, especially women and children. This takes place in many forms, based on the needs of the community and the gifts each Sister has to offer. This has included working with migrant farmworkers and their children, homeless women and children, as well as in Catholic education, parish life, healthcare, and a number of other ministries.

In the Gospel, we hear the words of the Centurion soldier, who would have been considered an outsider to the Jewish community. His words are echoed in our liturgy, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed.” This leads to Jesus remarking on the faith of the Centurion and healing his servant. I remember a conversation with a friend shortly after the words of the liturgy were changed from, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the words and I shall be healed,” to “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed.” To many of us, this slight change just meant an awkward fumbling as we tried to remember the new translation, but essentially had the same meaning. However, it was in conversation that I became acutely aware of the power of these words. My friend asked, “How can people who are homeless say they are not worthy to have Jesus enter under their roof? They have no roof!” Words matter. I wonder if the men and women without homes are worthy of receiving Jesus precisely because they don’t have homes, so have an experience of God’s poverty that most of us don’t have to endure? I wonder if their regularly being treated as unworthy in society gives them the faith that we hear about in the Gospel? The words I write, pray, or say carry a depth of meaning. I’m not suggesting we ignore the changes of language used in the liturgy, but, rather, be attentive to the surface and deeper implications of the words we use.

In this Advent season, how do I experience the faith of the Centurion? What of my own poverty, whether monetary, social, intellectual or physical connects me with the poverty of Jesus? How do I demonstrate my faith and be Good News to others?

As we prepare for the celebration of Christ’s birth through prayer and reflection. May these daily Advent reflections from the STM community help us see the holiness of the season in our everyday lives.