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CONFLICT OF SEASONS
CONFLICT OF SEASONS
I’ve have a weird week. Coming from someone
who teaches high school sophomores that’s probably not a very surprising
statement. But the weird feeling has come from another and rather unexpected
direction. It all started a month ago with an email.
My editor at Morehouse
Publications emailed me to ask if I would consider writing a revised edition
of Pilgrim Road : A Benedictine Journey through Lent. I thought it was a great idea and said yes
right away. I wrote up and submitted a proposal for a
second edition, and then received a contract in the mail. Fine. The deadline
for the improvements to the Lenten book is early March, 2014. Fine.
Then I set about writing a new
introduction to the book and an appendix containing group discussion questions for an appendix.
I really started getting into the Lent business. Then the weirdness began on
Thanksgiving weekend
ADLENT SEASON?
The Advent wreath appeared in the refectory, then we celebrated Vespers of the First
Sunday of Advent, and I wrote a Sunday homily explaining the spiritual challenges
of Advent. Then there were the songs on the radio and the decorations in the stores. Everything
around me was proclaiming the coming of our Savior at Christmas. “Prepare the
way of the Lord.”
Imagine, then, having to sit
down in the midst of all this and reflect about Lent. It was really difficult.
The disconnect was made worse
in school because I started rehearsing music with the kids for the annual
Christmas Program but in my New Testament class we began studying the passion
narratives, and the death of Christ. I imagine the kids barely noticed the
disconnect, and if they did it didn't much matter to them. But I was squirming
inside. To be
honest, part of me has been indignant at having my Benedictine liturgical
sensibilities so sorely treated: writing about Lent while celebrating Advent,
preparing the Christmas Program while teaching about Holy Week.
AHA!
A few moments ago I found some help in the Catechism of the Catholic Church (1994), in the
paragraphs on the liturgical year (#1168 – 1171). They begin, of course, by
noting that Easter is the central liturgical feast because it commemorates the
central event of our salvation. “The economy of salvation is at work within the
framework of time, but since its fulfillment in the Passover of Jesus and the outpouring
of the Holy Spirit, the culmination of history is anticipated ‘as a foretaste,’
and the kingdom of God enters into our time” (#1168).
Then three paragraphs later I
discovered this statement: “In the liturgical year the various aspects of the
one Paschal Mystery unfold. This is also the case with the cycle of feasts
surrounding the mystery of the incarnation (Annunciation, Christmas, and
Epiphany). They commemorate the beginning of our salvation and communicate to
us the first fruits of the Paschal mystery (#1171).
So there’s at least some
source of consolation: No matter what season of the liturgical year we’re in, we’re
celebrating some aspect of the Paschal mystery of Christ’s
suffering-death-resurrection. Advent celebrates the preparation, the beginning,
the anticipation of our salvation by Jesus that will culminate with Calvary and the empty tomb.
When I was complaining about
my weird week to a friend she suggested an even more basic way of putting this
same idea: all of these feasts and seasons are about the same thing anyway --
God’s infinite LOVE for us.
So I’m gradually coming
around to seeing the seeming contradictions and conflicts between Lent and
Advent in my present life as an invitation to experience the unfathomable richness
of the mystery God’s gift of salvation. No single feast or season can come
anywhere near to exhausting the mystery, but maybe mixing them up together now
and then can help me share in Saint Paul's wonder at God's greatness:
Oh the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! (Rom. 11:33)
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