Making Room
“The Lord is coming, always coming. When you have ears to hear and eyes to see, you will recognize him at any moment of your life. Life is Advent; life is recognizing the coming of the Lord.” – Henri Nouwen
The seasons of Advent and Christmas create a space in our lives for wonder and mystery that leads to anticipation and joy. They do this in light of the Gospels that describe both the Incarnation of God in Jesus and Mary’s willingness to bear the Son of God. How comfortable or welcoming we are to this mystery and wonder depends on our willingness to ponder the unknown.
The Incarnation of God in Jesus is the unearned gift in our world and in our hearts. I say “unearned” because we need to remember that God’s abundant love gave us Jesus. There was nothing the world did or, indeed, does now to make God do anything. Constantly creating and re-creating this world, God remains in our midst.
Wonder and Mystery
When I was very young, I easily experienced this wonder and mystery. As a way of entering into Advent, my family waited one or two weeks before Christmas prior to picking out a tree and decorating. While I sometimes wondered if it was procrastination, I now think that we observed Advent as a true waiting, a longing for the wonder of Christmas morning. My mother would set up the crèche earlier, though, much to my delight. I would gaze at this chipped and colorful set of figurines, especially in the evening when a small, single light illuminated the scene. Mary and Joseph (Jesus was carefully hidden) remained inside the wooden shelter while the donkey, sheep and three wise men stood apart. Straw and snow (cotton balls) were spread everywhere. I’m not quite sure why our crèche had snow, but I liked the idea that the holy family had found shelter on a cold, winter’s night.
As I gazed, I sometimes imaginatively entered into the scene. Mesmerized, I would move the figurines at different times on a whim, considering the interplay of all the pieces. I’d place the donkey facing to the right or left, then move the sheep closer to Mary and Joseph. As the days of Advent went by, the wise men “walked” closer to where Jesus would appear. And it was easier and less complicated then to create a space for Jesus’ birth in my heart and mind. Seeing became beholding for me. It was a sacred space. Through this type of creative play, I’ve come to believe that, without knowing it, children naturally make room for the Incarnation without hesitation.
Anticipation
Wonder and mystery lead us to an awakening and anticipation for what is to come. This leads me to reflect on Christmas mornings in my childhood home. I’d wake up early with my two youngest brothers and we’d carefully walk around my oldest siblings, who were visiting for the holidays and asleep in sleeping bags on the living room floor, in order to sit in front of the presents that magically appeared overnight. We’d count the gifts and look for our names among the colorful packages. Each of us would have one or two gifts under the tree, one of which was usually handmade by my mother. The tree lights illuminated the room and there was just silence. Even baby Jesus appeared in the crèche. Eventually, my siblings would stir, my mom would wake up, make coffee and sit with all of us while the Carpenters Christmas album played in the background. Christmas mornings were one of the most peaceful and joyous times and I reveled in the feeling of belonging and the sense that all was well in the world. I’d pass out my drawings for everyone, rolled up with a ribbon. We took our time opening gifts, and my mom would just smile and laugh in the midst of her children. Usually, a game of Parcheesi or Monopoly would break out. Time truly stood still.
Recapturing Wonder & Mystery
In the weeks leading up to Christmas these days, I find myself caught in a frenzy of to do lists and a time crunch. Searching for the perfect gift can easily take over my attention and focus on Jesus in the Advent season. I constantly pass the crèche in my own home but rarely stop to enjoy its reminder of God’s abiding love for our world. Even though I know that material things do not ultimately bring fulfillment or happiness, it is easy for me to momentarily set aside the gift of Jesus in my life. Then, at Mass on Christmas morning, I re-enter that sense of wonder and awe.
As we get older, we make certain decisions that sometimes close the door on God’s unearned gift to the world. We start to wander (and by we, I mean me). I have found that, as adults, we need Advent to remind us to slow down and look around at our current journey. We need to ask ourselves in what direction we are headed. We need to rest, to reassess and remember who it is that created us. By what love were we born and to whom do we belong? To what end do we live? Do my desires now draw me toward Christ or have I settled, grown complacent, wandered away? Can I behold the sacred in wonder and awe? So many questions yet we can take time during Advent (truly, any time) to consider one or two ways we can change our trajectory, pulled toward the mystery of Christ’s birth and what it means for our lives and for the world.
The Prophet Isaiah asked God, “Why do you let us wander? O Lord, from your ways, and harden our hearts so that we fear you not?” (63:16-17) The gift of free will allows us to choose the direction we will go. And we can freely choose to return to God. Often, though, I find myself entangled in the anxieties and worries of the world so that I don’t notice the direction I am headed. When I think about what I make room for in my daily life, I can discover that it’s usually the things for which I have no control. Worry over my dad aging and the grief he causes at his assisted living community only increases my sleeplessness. Replaying an uncomfortable conversation I had with a sibling over and over in my mind seldom helps me let it go and move on. Allowing the realities of polarization in our country and world to offset my hope in humanity and dwell on the worst possible outcomes only increases my fear that reason, truth and justice won’t matter in the end. Instead, I can trust that the light of truth will never fade or disappear. Darkness will never overcome it (see John 1:5). This hope helps me return to God and a sense of wonder and mystery.
An Expansion of the Heart
As an adult, my experiences with wonder, mystery and the sacred can be found at Mass and even beyond. If I go to Mass in order to go through the motions and share in the rituals, does that help me to know Jesus? Liturgy and ritual certainly have a place in our expression of faith, but am I being shaped by God over time? God is the potter and we are the clay (see Isaiah 63:19) Am I clay that is malleable, shaped by God’s hands, or maybe I’ve allowed myself to be “fired” in the oven of settling for what is easy. When I solely rely on others to interpret God’s word or to pray, such as when I am at Mass, I’m not sure that my heart is expanding at all. Even the Grinch had to see for himself this love that the Who’s of Whoville welcomed into their hearts, even when it seemed like Christmas was ruined. They were able to sing and express joy because they knew that love didn’t come in a box. It was already in their hearts. And so the Grinch’s heart expanded ten times, exploding with a love that transformed him.
And isn’t our transformation at the core of God’s desire for us? So, while going to Mass is good and offers us sacred moments, we are also called to read scripture and pray outside of church. This can help our hearts expand, to recognize wonder and mystery in our daily lives.. Reading scripture and sitting in silence allows a way for us to open ourselves to God’s Spirit. It’s called “Prayer of the Heart,” “Contemplative Prayer” or “Centering Prayer.” Choose a mantra, or word that you gently repeat in your mind, such as “Come, Lord Jesus” or “Welcome Jesus,” breathing slowly and letting your thoughts drift by. You are literally making room for God’s Spirit to enter. It is a prayer that has been in our tradition since the 4th century.
St. Teresa of Avila, 16th-century Carmelite nun and Spanish mystic, wrote this concerning prayer: “Clearly, an expansion of the soul takes place, as if the water rising up from the fountain doesn’t just overflow and move on. Instead, the more water that comes up, the larger the basin grows to receive it. That’s what this kind of prayer does to the soul. And God works many other wonders in her, shaping and preparing her to contain abundant grace…” (p 109, The Interior Castle, translation by Mirabai Starr)
St. Teresa describes this contemplative prayer that can shape us, expanding our souls so that God’s grace can abide there. It is the only way that I have found that the anxieties and worries of the world do not overcome me. In this type of prayer, I realize over time that our one “job” is to open ourselves to God’s Spirit so we can be shaped and healed in order to learn to love as God loves. What I am responsible for is to recognize and welcome God’s truth and light in order that I can spread it through the darkness that will always be with us. This prayer of the heart helps me to behold the light of Christ, to allow it to change me, and to spread it to others.
Ultimately, you need to ask yourself: What do I make room for in my life? When we’re young and when we’re with the young, we tend to enter into the wonder and mystery of Jesus’ coming more easily, with childlike intention. We receive, allow, surrender to the moment. What if we decided to do this as adults, through praying, gazing on the crèche, lighting the Advent candles, sitting in silence and soaking in the wonder and awe of creation, reading God’s word and allowing it to enter our minds and hearts? Taking the time. Every day. Yes, every day. Make room. Early morning works for me. What’s best for you? With my kids, my spouse, faith community and even alone. Together, let us pray: “Come, Lord Jesus.”
Blog Notes: If you would like to learn more about Centering Prayer, (Prayer of the Heart, Quiet Prayer), I recommend Fr. Thomas Keating. You can find more information at www.contemplativeoutreach.org
Call to Action: In the comments below, describe how you have experienced God’s wonder and mystery in the midst of the Advent and Christmas seasons.
Song for Contemplation: “Open Up” by The Brilliance
