Racing to Christmas

One of the things I love about the season of Advent is the rich imagery and beautiful language found in the propers for Mass. For instance, in the Collect for the First Sunday of Advent, which opens the entire liturgical season, we ask for “the resolve to run forth to meet…Christ with righteous deeds at his coming.” It’s a bold request that makes me think of a world-class marathoner sprinting victoriously to the finish line.

But what if my own journey through Advent more closely resembles my painfully slow crawl through miles 11 and 12 of my first half marathon earlier this year?  What if, at some point along this course leading to Christmas, I end up “hitting the wall” and experiencing the spiritual equivalent of “the bonk”? Is a truly meaningful observance of Advent tied to performing fantastic feats of penance and prayer? Does it demand the religious athleticism of a desert-dwelling monk? I don’t think so.

Instead, I believe that the key to preparing for the coming of Christ at Christmas is in becoming what He became for us in the Incarnation—a small, humble child. We become childlike when we acknowledge our own beauty and frailty, and offer everything to God, knowing that any authentic gift of ourselves will never fail to delight God. When we humbly recognize the aching emptiness present in our lives and refuse to clutter the void with disordered attachments, our hearts become a welcoming home for the Christ Child, who found no room in the inns of Bethlehem two thousand years ago.

As I meditate once more upon the prayer that began our liturgical journey to Christmas, I find my image of a world-class marathoner gliding to victory replaced with the image of a small child racing to meet a loved one—joyfully, enthusiastically and yes, quite clumsily. I see myself in that child this Advent, so often tripping over her own feet. But no matter how gracefully or unsteadily we run to kneel at the manger this Christmas, we will surely find a humble Child welcoming us, and asking us to welcome Him to our hearts in return.

Rachel Kondro is the campus minister in Reinert Hall. 

Bringing Jesus to birth in our own lives

This season is my favorite time of year. The colorful lights I have scattered around my apartment, the scent of a newly chopped pine tree, cheesy Christmas music, and filling my calendar with Christmas parties with friends and family all fill my heart with a sense of happiness that no other time of year does.  Having an excuse to be with loved ones and recreating traditions from when I was a child is comforting and peaceful. Memories from previous years remind me of where I’ve come from and the person I’ve grown into since then.  When I was younger we would spend an afternoon decorating the house for Christmas and my brother and I would insist that my mom turn on the only two Christmas albums we owned (Johnny Mathis and Dolly Parton, of course). We would excitedly put up the lights and ornaments on the tree and fill every other corner of the house with Christmas decorations. My brother and I always fought over who got to hang certain favorite ornaments (we still do…) and yet every year my mom was the one decorating after my brother and I got bored after an hour or two.  Mom and I made candy, chatting as we baked and cooked late into the evening. These memories and others from this time of year remind me of the deep gratitude I have for my family, my friends, and for the many ways in which my life has been blessed.  But I would be remiss to end my reflections on this season with these somewhat idealized memories. 

Perhaps it is because I’m growing up and into myself, perhaps because I am a woman, or perhaps because I am beginning to recognize the frailty and vulnerability of life that I find myself challenged by and invited into reflecting on the young pregnant woman who is just weeks away from giving birth to a child. I wonder what must have been running through Mary’s mind as the baby inside her grew, as she felt him move and kick, as she neared the end of the intimate time of her pregnancy. I imagine the tenderness Joseph must have showed her; the patience each of them must have had in a time when so much many things seemed uncertain. I imagine the quiet, still nights and the way Mary must have felt, knowing that the Son of God was a tiny, growing, human being inside of her womb. Through the courage and strength of this one young woman, our God enters the world as human being in the most humble, frail, and vulnerable way.

The mystery of the incarnation, of God becoming a human child, stirs in me a deep sense not only of the gift it was 2000 years ago, but the many ways in which each of us are also “pregnant” with God in our own lives. Like Mary, we too are invited to say “yes” to God who is constantly growing and working in us. And just as it takes nine months for a child to be born, we must be patient with ourselves and with God’s work in us. God dwells with us in our own vulnerability and cares for us as with the gentleness and tenderness of a loving parent.  Our God dwells within us and among us in all those we meet; the gatherings we attend and the relationships we have can be a sign of God’s love for us in the most incarnate way. Our memories remind us of the joy of our past and show us the many ways in which we have grown over the months and years. The smells and sounds that accompany this season and make it so joyful prompt us to be aware of the importance of God becoming embodied. Our God, Jesus, experienced the embrace of a friend, the smell of homemade cooking, and the sound of joyful music being played.

And so in this season of preparing and patience, how do you sense God growing and moving in you? How are you called to give life to the world and become Christ’s incarnate hands and feet? How are you responding to the invitation into stillness and reflection on this great gift of the incarnation? What are the sights and smells and sounds that draw you into Christ’s joyful presence this season? Say “yes” to allowing our incarnate God to come alive in you and to become Emmanuel, “God with us”, to our world.

Jen Petruso is the Campus Minister in Marguerite and Pruellage Halls.

Prepare the Way!

For much of our world, the Advent season has fallen to the wayside.  It’s a difficult time for everyone.  For college students it’s the final push as we return from Thanksgiving Break just in time to prepare for finals, close out the semester, and get it all together just in time to head home for Christmas. 

Personally, I have the tendency of putting the being intentional part of Advent off amidst the chaos, telling myself that I will prepare myself spiritually for Christmas once the break begins.  As I reflect on this I recognize that putting it off tends to make it disappear from my journey completely.  If I am going to truly prepare myself, I need a season set apart for that preparation.  Though it tends to be an underappreciated season, we are given the Advent season deliberately.  It exists because we as busy people need to set it apart in order to really appreciate the upcoming Christmas Season. 

I think the perfect example for embracing the Advent Season is Jesus’ mother, Mary.  As Mary prepared for the birth of Jesus I imagine she experienced the full range of emotions.  She may have many times wished for the waiting months of pregnancy to be over, but she waited and prepared.  Questions surely flooded her heart in preparation for the promise of the coming Son of God.  I imagine Mary active in her preparation, preparing herself for the coming of the Christ, keeping that approaching day in mind with every action of every day.

Each of us is called to be bearers of Christ in our own way, so we too are called to prepare ourselves like Mary did.  To bear Christ within us we need to reflect, slow our hearts, minds, and schedules enough to let Jesus be present within us in a very real way.  Like an expectant mother and her child we are called do all that we do with Jesus at the forefront. 

Advent isn’t just the time before Christmas; it is the time in which we are called to wait for Christ’s return like Mary as an expectant mother.  Devoted to Jesus, captivated by God, and continually preparing ourselves for the fullness of God to be in our midst. 

This advent season I challenge you to await the coming of Jesus like Mary, especially amidst all that fills your day.  Take a few moments each day to let God fill you, let God call you, and let God prepare the way in you. 

All for the Honor and Glory of God.

Adam Dirnberger is the Campus Ministry SERVE Intern.

Having an Attitude of Gratitude

“It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation,
always and everywhere to give you thanks,
Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God,
through Christ our Lord.”

                As Thanksgiving approaches, I seek to answer the definitive question of the season: “What am I thankful for?”  To which I can only answer, “Life, my family and friends, a job, and a place to call home.”  Before I can even finish my list, my mind replies, “Come on, Erin…what a cop out!  That’s the easy way out! Can’t you come up with something better, more spectacular?”  My first reaction – to downplay that for which I am thankful – is not uncommon as many begin their answer with the caveat of “I know this is cliché, but…”

                In trying to explain my list of thanksgiving, I came to a realization about our shared human experiences and desires.  This blog post seeks to put that realization into words while also recognizing that I am limited by my own experiences even when trying to put forth a common understanding of being thankful.  Moreover, everyone may not agree with me because my explanation seeks to subvert what is normative by bringing to light those desires that society often seeks to suppress but faith seeks to understand and embrace as profoundly human.

My insight is that many say they are thankful for fundamental relationships and basic necessities precisely because they are difficult – difficult to begin, maintain, and live without – NOT because they are easy.  When I say I am thankful for these things, I lump together, and rightly so, the good, the bad, and the messy.  For example, my thanksgiving for my husband encompasses his unyielding love for me despite my ever-changing mood AND my frustration for when he leaves things laying around the apartment.  My thanksgiving for true friendships includes their willingness to always listen to me in my time of need as well as their willingness to tell me what I need to hear even if it is not what I want.  And my thankfulness for my job embraces both the sense of purpose I derive from accompanying students on their journey and the long hours required to do so.

As much as I may be surrounded in this world by a push towards individualism motivated by selfishness and prestige, my true hopes, dreams, and wishes are for community, helping others, and a meaningful sense of self.  This is most notable when I remember difficult times in my life and reflect on God’s active presence within them.  While it is easy to sense God present in the midst of joy, my experience tells me that it takes time and reflection to discern God’s activity in our daily sacrifices and problems so that one can derive meaning instead of hopelessness from them.  Thus, honest reflection allows me to be in a vulnerable position of gratitude and to create this experience for others in the hopes that they and I are transformed by the process.

I am reminded by this important convergence of memory (anamnesis), sacrifice (kenosis), and gratitude (thanksgiving) at Mass during the beginning of the Preface when the celebrant says, “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks, Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God, through Christ our Lord.”  Not only is reflection important in order to be thankful in general, but through this process we discover who we are and who God is – beings in a relationship of love who desire to love and be loved.  Our thanksgiving is the proper and most fully human response to God who is the source of this love and expressed it most definitively through sacrifice in the person of Jesus Christ.  This is the love we remember and that God makes real in the unbloodied sacrifice of the Mass.  The most difficult part remains our own cooperation in this process by which we allow the sacrificial and self-emptying love of God to transform us evermore so into beings of love, humans.

So as we move towards the Season of Advent during which God empties God’s self by becoming one of us, let us allow ourselves the time and space to develop an attitude of gratitude.  In doing so, may we enter more fully into the divinely human journey that is life.

*Note: This blog post was also influenced by the theological reflections of John F. Baldovin, S.J. in Bread of Life, Cup of Salvation: Understanding the Mass.

Erin Schmidt is the Campus Ministry Liturgy Coordinator.

Friends of God and Prophets

“In Wisdom is a spirit
intelligent, holy, unique,
Manifold, subtle, agile,
clear, unstained, certain,
Not baneful, loving the good, keen,
unhampered, beneficent, kindly,
Firm, secure, tranquil,
all-powerful, all-seeing,
And pervading all spirits,
though they be intelligent, pure and very subtle” (Wisdom 7:22-23).

The daily lectionary readings this past week were taken from the book of Wisdom, and many of us might have missed them as they were read only at weekday Masses, through the Liturgy of the Hours, or in our own private devotional reading. Still, this apocryphal or deuteron-canonical book contains images that might challenge us to enter into the beauty and glory of God.

            Wisdom is personified in the text in the feminine “for she is an aura of the might of God
and a pure effusion of the glory of the Almighty” (Wisdom 7:25). In other words, it is Wisdom that pours out or speaks to us of the glory of God in such a way that we can sense—see, touch, taste, feel, smell, or intuit—the reality of God’s existence.

            Have you met Wisdom today? Who in your life has spoken gently to you or offered a word of kindness in a difficult moment? Have you ever been speechless or stood in awe after hearing something put in a unique and touching way?

            Regardless of what our faith tradition might be, we recognize words of wisdom when they are spoken. Something about wise words touch us deeply in places that we did not even know existed within ourselves.

            Personally, I am fascinated with the gift of Wisdom, for I find in my own life that if I quiet myself enough, I can actually hear the still small voice of God deep within me. Wise words and wise moments help us to journey to God. For when we recognize the beauty of such life-giving moments, we are stopped in our tracks in order to move in a direction that is more life-filled.

            It is comforting to know that it is God that is moving, changing, and generating new life in us. God’s wisdom is “passing into holy souls from age to age … produc[ing] friends of God and prophets” (Wisdom 7:27). The challenge, then, is to open ourselves to the life that God is offering each of us in a unique way.

            Where and how is God calling you today? Let us be grateful in these upcoming weeks for the good gifts God is always giving to us—our family, our friendships, the gift of faith, an opportunity to grow in wisdom and knowledge, and the manifold other gifts that are unique to your own personal life.

            Thanks be to God for the invitation to live in the company of the Holy Trinity, who we come to know through the circumstances and people present in our ordinary lives. Let us pray that we will have the grace and openness to see the Lord in those we meet today.

Christy Hicks is a Campus Minister in Griesedieck Complex.

"...those who matter don't mind."

I’d like to share with you one of my favorite Dr. Seuss quotes: “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.” If you come to my home, you will find this quote in several different places so that I can continually be reminded to be the person I was created to be and not who the world expects me to be.

This is not always easy though. We can often feel as though certain expectations are placed on us. In order to believe we have meaningful lives, we are told that we have to go to certain places, own certain things, know just the right people, etc.  I know that I, for one, have spent way too much of my life being the person I thought others wanted me to be rather than who I am called to be. I have questioned my words and my actions, afraid that others would think less of me because I said or did the wrong thing. I have based my own worth off of the opinions of others rather than deeply listening to and taking value in the person God had created me to be.

But as time has gone on, I have discovered the courage to follow the path that God has set before me so that I can begin the journey to become the person I’m meant to be. What I’ve found though is that as I’ve followed my own path, some people in my life have gotten upset with me. Friends have been lost as I’ve tried to authentically be myself. Yet at the same time, there have been others, who though they might not agree with me on certain things, have continued to love and accept me. They’ve respected my desire to be authentic.

In John 15:18-19, Jesus says “If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.” It’s safe to say that following Jesus isn’t always easy. In fact, sometimes it’s downright hard. When we tap into our calling, we begin to say and do things we never imagined. We stand up against injustices when no one else will; we learn to love those who others have trouble loving; we begin to see the good in our enemy; in short, our whole life changes, but we become comfortable in our own skin. So remember, just be yourself.

Robby Francis is a Campus Minister in Griesedieck Complex.

DESIRE

DESIRE. I don’t know about you, but for me this word usually has a bad connotation. It seems to be usually related to greed or lust. I recently helped lead a retreat called the Fresh Look Retreat (shout-out to Campus Ministry and all who went! If you’re a first-year and didn’t get a chance to go, you should sign up for the February retreat!). The retreat asks you to reflect on three underused and very important questions: Who have I been? Who am I now? And who do I desire to be? They’re all good questions, but the last one captivates me the most.  As college students we often get asked what do we want to do in the future, but how often do you get asked who you want to be. Now THAT is a difficult question. Who do you want to be?

In reading The Jesuit Guide to Almost Everything by Fr. James Martin, I discovered the true meaning of DESIRE. Desire can be so important for finding out your vocation, not in an only religious sense, but in a ‘life purpose’ sort of way. If you haven’t before, (and I hadn’t, so don’t feel bad) take the time to sit quietly and reflect on what you want…what you really want. I’m a list person, so I actually listed out the 4-5 deepest desires that I have, underneath all the fluff and nonsense that the world tries to convince me that I want. If you do this, you can find out what God wants for you too. Because God places desires in your heart for a reason. It is so you can find the path that will most fulfill your heart, the path that will bring you closest to Jesus, the path that will culminate in eternal unity with God. Fr. James Martin writes, “Expressing these desires brings us into a closer relationship with God. Otherwise, it would be like never telling a friend your innermost thoughts. Your friend would remain distant. When we tell God our desires, our relationship to God deepens.” So, instead of suppressing desires and thinking that they’re evil, take the time to listen to your desires, your DEEPEST desires, and consider what God is trying to tell you!

Allison Walter is the Campus Ministry REST Intern.