COSMIC CHRIST IN ADVENT

 

"Could this be the Messiah?"

I was reading tomorrow's gospel (Third Sunday of Advent), from Luke, Chapter 3:10-18, when I came upon the verse that says "and all were asking in their hearts whether John [the Baptizer] might be the Christ." I confess that I'm baffled why the translators didn't use the word "messiah" instead of "Christ." The Greek uses "christos," meaning "anointed one," which in turn parallels the Hebrew "meshach" (anointed) which gives us the word "messiah." The Jews flocking into the desert knew nothing about "Christ" as we know Him, the Second Person of the Trinity, or the Risen One. They were looking for the long-expected Messiah who would deliver them from the oppressive pagan rule of the Romans. 

Disappointed as I was by the insertion of the word "Christ" in the day's gospel, I turned my meditation to the notion of the "Universal Christ" that I've been reflecting upon on and off for weeks. You should read last Tuesday's post to get a feel for what I mean by the "Universal Christ" or the "Cosmic Christ." 

So I began looking in my prayer journal for some ways of applying to my own life the notion of "the Christ," the Second Person of the Trinity, who has existed since before the beginning. My eyes fell almost immediately on this statement I'd copied some days ago: 

"Human vulnerability gives the soul an immense head start on its travels-- maybe the only start for any true spiritual journey." -Richard Rohr, "Immortal Diamond" Ch.8. 

"In the beginning was the Word."

Without a sense of vulnerability, how can I profit from the Love of the Universal Christ? My relationship with the Almighty One would be spoiled by my sense of mistrust, by my constantly looking for ways to control the forces in my life that clearly lie beyond my control.

Instead of being in competition with the Christ, what if I were to ask for his help instead? St. Paul says "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." And what a helper He could be!

"Let it be done unto me ..."  

By coincidence, the community of Newark Abbey is celebrating the transferred feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe today (it got bumped by Sunday this year). So, it was easy for me to see in the young Mary of Nazareth a perfect example of "human vulnerability,"  and how it shows itself in our loves as "humility." Mary's own dreams, her own agenda were forgotten as soon as the angel announced to Mary that God had something special for her to do. 

Without realizing the full implications of what she was agreeing to, Mary nevertheless said "Yes," and the Divine Plan moved forward. God had made use of her vulnerability and her humility, with the result that the "Word became flesh and dwelt among us."

So, during the rest of this Advent I'll be conscious of praying with a sense of vulnerability and humility when I sing words like, "O come, Divine Messiah." Or is it "O come, Divine Christ?"