We await in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.
As a child, I remember thinking that the many Advent readings which focus on the end times were an unwanted part of Advent. To my childish ears, they seemed too sharp a juxtaposition to the festivities and joys of Christ’s birth. But as I’ve grown older, reflecting on Christ’s Second Coming and preparing myself for Heaven have become the prominent focus of my Advent spirituality, to the point where this year I was struck by the fact that the mystery of God’s birth was not central to my reflections. Perhaps to overcorrect my childish distaste for the End Things, I have accidentally neglected to maintain a holy awe that the Creator humbled Himself completely by entering the world as a tiny, helpless child.
We know that this tiny child was born to die for us. We have skipped ahead a few chapters and read with shock the cruelty He endured. And so we know that His life and death is a gift beyond measure. Yet with the Nativity, God also seems to be giving us another marvelous gift. This is the grace of loving and cherishing Him in a particularly unique manner. Though He came to save us, God did not become incarnate as a fully grown warrior, or even as spirited young boy. No, rather He entered the world as a tiny baby, weak and precious. Though we are stirred to follow His Gospel message like the Apostles, or to weep over His Passion and Death with remorse, by entering the world as an infant, God invites us to come to Him with tender, softened gazes. He invites us to smile with Him, to laugh, to hold Him in our hearts. Whether we have our own children or not, within each of us our maternal or paternal hearts break at the thought that this perfect baby will permit His own death out of love for us.
In the midst of our many Advent tasks and spiritual reflections, may we make sure to reach out our arms, gather Him up, and draw Him close to our hearts.
Holding Him close, we know what is to come. We know of our own weakness and our vices, and how this adorable face will one day become disfigured for our salvation. But in the moment, let us swaddle this King and press Him close. May we open our hearts and weep Advent tears of sorrow and joy at this great mystery before us. And like Mary, may we ponder these things within our hearts.
How unfathomable is the mercy of Our God!