Advent 2019

 

Reflection for Wednesday, First Week of Advent

400x400 advent artHave you ever climbed a mountain? Back home in Colorado, we call the tallest ones “Fourteeners” — peaks whose summits scrape over 14,000 feet. You reach them by endurance, training yourself to struggle against the weakness and exhaustion that come at higher altitudes. You reach them with proper nourishment, from Clif Bars and Gatorade, trail mix and water. And you reach them together. When it comes to mountains, you never climb alone.

Last Sunday, the Prophet Isaiah invited us to consider a climb: "Come, let us climb the Lord's mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may instruct us in his ways and we may walk in his paths." You remember that? "In days to come," Isaiah said, "the mountain of the Lord's house shall be established as the highest mountain and raised above the hills.  All nations shall stream toward it and say, 'Come, let us climb the Lord's mountain.'" That's a beautiful image, for sure, but it's also a daunting prospect, certainly not the kind of climb you accomplish in one outing. The Lord’s mountain involves a different kind of preparation, a different kind of nourishment, a different commitment to sharing with others.

Which is why the Church gives us this season of Advent. Four weeks to train our hearts on the hope of Christ's coming — hope that overcomes every worry and fear and anxiety and doubt. Four weeks to refocus on where we're headed, where our journey takes us. Because our life's ultimate destination isn't the manger, it's the mountain. Not Bethlehem, but the Heavenly Jerusalem.  

And we need a different kind of nourishment to get there. Not those things on which we so often seek to fill ourselves — food and drink, status and accomplishment, possessions and control — things that only leave us satisfied for a moment or two. Listen to what Christ tells us in our Gospel tonight: "I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way.” For fear that they may grow weak, faint, exhausted. For fear that we might collapse on the way.

Which is why Jesus doesn't just give us food for the moment.  He gives us bread that will keep us for our journey with him — even the fragments. From the 'far too little' we might feel like we bring to the table, Christ makes an incomprehensible 'much-too-much.' Whole crowds fed. Whole baskets left over. From the meager bread we share, Jesus feeds us with more than we can eat.

As we gather the fragments of Christ’s Body and Blood in our Eucharistic celebration this Advent, we nourish the communion we share in Christ’s Spirit. Our humility, patience, gentleness. Our bearing with one another through love. Our striving for unity and peace. And by that Eucharistic nourishment, our God gathers us more deeply into one. One body and one Spirit, kept safe by the bread of Jesus, the Body of Christ, for eternal life.  

That's the community with whom we journey. That's the community with whom we climb. "Come, let us walk in the light of The Lord."

 

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.

Rev. Patrick E. Reidy, CSC

Fr. Reidy is a 2021 J.D. candidate at Yale Law School.