Jesus Is Coming

Once I got a Christmas card from a friend with a decorative stamp on the back of the envelope that said, “Jesus is coming. Look busy!”

Being busy as we anticipate our celebration of the birth of Jesus isn’t a problem for most of us, as the days before Christmas are filled with cooking and baking, house cleaning, decorating, buying and wrapping gifts, organizing or attending holiday get-togethers and events, and practices for the choir or other liturgical ministries. There’s no need to look busy, because we are busy!

I have yet to see a stamp that says, “Jesus is coming. Be still!” It’s not that Christ doesn’t appear to busy people — it’s just that people who are still are more likely to notice Christ’s presence. In stillness, we observe the random acts of kindness that occur around us every day. In stillness, we see Christ’s manifestation in the sunset or in an evergreen tree. In stillness, we hear God say, “Do not be afraid; I am with you.”

Jesus himself was often busy during his years of public ministry with the demands of healing and preaching. Serving others necessarily entails a certain amount of busyness. However, the gospels tell us that Jesus also frequently withdrew to a quiet place to be still and totally present to the Father, who guided and sustained him.

Jesus is coming. Let us celebrate, both in the bustle of our communal life with others and in the stillness of our heart where we hear God whisper our name — “Beloved.” 

Heartening Acts of Kindness

The woman who cuts my hair doesn’t talk much while she works, so my attention tends to drift to the conversations going on between other stylists and their customers. Yesterday, across the room, a fashionable stylist with a mass of red ringlets cascading down her back was chatting with the elderly woman whose hair she was cutting when the woman’s husband arrived to pick her up. He was a bit stooped, had a lined face, and was dressed in well-worn jeans — perhaps a retired farmer or mechanic, I speculated.

Interestingly, the stylist called him over and gave him instructions about how to curl his wife’s hair; he obediently picked up the curling iron and followed her directions to curl over or under in the front and on the sides. The woman joked with her husband, “I would have had her cut the sides shorter, but you say I have big ears!” When it came time to leave and the woman struggled to transfer from the hairdresser’s chair to a wheelchair, I realized she was nearly blind. “I’d rather lose my hearing than my sight,” the stylist commented. “I would too,” the woman replied, “but you learn to live with the hand you’re dealt.”

It was heartening to see the kindness of the stylist, who took extra time to give the woman’s husband a lesson in curling hair, along with his willingness to take on a task that was outside his skill set for the sake of his wife and the blind woman’s acceptance of her limitation. Although the news is mostly filled with stories of rancor, we are surrounded every day by examples of thoughtfulness, devotion, and acceptance. When we follow the Advent admonition to open our eyes to see and our ears to hear, it becomes clear that the kingdom of God is indeed growing into fullness in our very midst. Behold!

The Challenge and Peace of Commitment

The Annunciation by Henry Tanner

In his homily today on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, Fr. Meinrad Miller pointed out that perhaps the most important line in the story about the Angel Gabriel’s appearance to Mary is the last one: “Then the angel departed from her.”

Often it is easy to say “yes” to a life-changing request when an angel is standing before you, or your beloved proposes marriage, or you receive a job offer, or you think you’ve found the perfect monastic community. Mary’s joy overflowed when she visited her cousin Elizabeth, and she praised God with a full heart. However, after the joyful “yes” came a life of hardship — judgment by neighbors, fear of being rejected by the man to whom she was betrothed, living for a time as a refugee, having her adolescent son go missing, worrying about his safety during his years of ministry, and suffering at the foot of his cross. Saying “yes” to a commitment, admirable as it is, does not guarantee that the road ahead will be smooth.

And yet. There is a peace that comes with identifying and living out our calling, our vocation, despite the hardships that inevitably accompany it. We all know people who never seem to find their calling (or resist it). Although their freedom from the demands of commitment may seem enviable at times, their restlessness is not something we would ever wish for.

Just as God prepared the way for Mary to be the mother of his Son, God prepares the way for us to recognize and respond to our call to serve others through our own unique aptitude and capabilities. When we listen, the spirit of discernment will be with us, and we will find the companionship we need to help us live out our commitments. May God’s grace be with us all!