Waiting. We’re not very good at that anymore. Maybe we never were. In this age of instant-gratification, we get frustrated if we have to wait for any length of time. Waiting in traffic, waiting in the doctor’s office, waiting in line at the grocery check-out. Waiting feels like time wasted. And who can afford to waste time these days? We have too much to do. Every second counts.
Christmas is such a joyous time—the joyous songs, the presents, the food. But Mother Church, intuiting that we need to learn how to wait, we are given the season of Advent, as a sort of buffer to the gratification of Christmas. To teach us to wait. Which is why we don’t sing Christmas hymns in Church like Joy to the World and silent night during Advent, even though you hear them at coffee shops and department stores. We don’t put out the nativity scene here in Church yet. Because it’s not time, we are still waiting. We light the Advent candles as a sign of keeping vigil—remaining mindful of the one we are waiting for.
Pope Benedict XVI spoke one Advent about the importance of waiting, he said:
“Our whole personal, familial and social existence passes through this dimension of waiting. Waiting is something that is present in a 1,000 situations, from the smallest and most banal to the most important, which draw us in completely and in the deepest way. Among these, we think of a husband and wife waiting for a child; of waiting for a relative or friend who is coming from far away to visit us; we think of a young person waiting to know his grade on a major exam or the outcome of a job interview; in romantic relationships, of waiting to meet the beloved person, of waiting for a letter, or of receiving forgiveness... One could say that man is alive so long as he waits.”
Scripture is filled with stories of waiting. Abraham and Sarah waited through decades of infertility for the birth of Isaac. Moses and the Israelites waited 40 years before reaching the promised land. Jacob waited seven years for Rachel, only to be tricked into marrying her sister, and had to wait seven more before he could marry his beloved. From Malachi — the last book of the Old Testament — to the writing of the New Testament was a span of 400 years called the silent period. So, the people of God waited 400 years to hear from God. Even the Lord Jesus waited—he waited 30 years to begin his public ministry. From the moment of Original Sin, humanity waited for a savior.
Continuing his reflection, Pope Benedict said,” Every one of us especially in this season [of Advent] in which we prepare for Christmas, can ask himself: What am I waiting for? For what, in this moment of my life, does my heart long for? And this same question can be posed at the level of the family, of the community, of the nation. What are we waiting for, together?”
It’s a great question. What am I waiting for? For those of you who just thought, “I’m waiting for this homily to be over”…you are getting coal for Christmas.
Waiting, it’s even a part of our liturgy. Long readings, long eucharistic prayers. Long communion lines. Periods of Silence. They are good for us. If we are in a hurry to fulfill our religious obligations…have we begun them with the right spirit? I’m not saying we should rejoice when Mass goes an extra five minutes…but I hope you WOULD be upset if we simply rushed through Mass just to “get it over with”.
Holy Waiting, can teach us many things: I’d like to propose five lessons from waiting:
One. Waiting reminds us that we are not the center of the universe. It’s so easy to get caught up in our own plans, convinced that everything we do is absolutely, crucially important. Being forced to wait is humbling—it gives us the opportunity to remember that other people have plans and priorities as well. Waiting is good for ego. Waiting reminds us that God is in control. When we are tempted to give up hope, or turn to God and say, God, who are you to make me wait, who are you to make demands on me, we remember the words God spoke to Job: Where were you when I made the cosmos? Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation? So waiting helps us to remember who is in charge of the universe. Waiting is humbling.
Secondly, waiting teaches us perseverance. Sometimes, in our prayer lives, when we pray and pray and pray for a particular intention, and we don’t see our petition granted, the temptation is to give up on our prayer, to give up on God. St. Monica, remember prayed 40 years for the conversion of her son…she patiently but actively waited for her heart’s desire. Sometimes waiting is the penance needed to obtain the particular grace, or simply the way God wishes to strengthen us in virtue—in perseverance.
Thirdly, Waiting reminds us that life is a gift. God didn’t have to make us. Every day, every hour we have in this life is a gift. Forced to sit at a stop light for several precious minutes, I have a choice. I can choose to grumble and gripe about the loss of my precious time, or I can remember that those very minutes were a gift God gave me so that I might have the opportunity to live for his glory. Sure, this wasn’t how I’d planned to use them. But that doesn’t change the gift of life—of time.
Fourthly, waiting reminds us that the present matters. Sometimes waiting frustrates us because we’re too future-oriented, focused on what comes next. We hurry through Mass, we hurry through a meal, we hurry through our prayers, in order to get to the next thing. But when we hurry through our tasks, we fail to savor the present. God is in the present and waiting helps us to encounter him in the present.
Something I’ve been doing for years is that I like to go through the Old Testament psalms and pray them very slowly, meditating on the meaning of each word—the Lord…is…my….shepherd: savoring what God is saying through the sacred text. We don’t read Sacred Scripture just to get to the end of the story. We know how it ends. With victory! God’s victory, God’s glory. Reading through the 31,000 verses of the bible is not as important as taking the meaning of those verses to heart. In order to understand the scriptures sometimes we need to wait, to chew on them slowly.
Finally, waiting reminds us to live recollectedly. Waiting can be uncomfortable because it forces us to think about what really matters in our lives. It causes us to confront our doubts and questions. And some of us live so un-reflectively that waiting, questioning, doubting, is uncomfortable—terrifying to some. Waiting causes us to confront the fact that we only have a finite amount of time on this earth. And maybe, just maybe, I haven’t been using the time wisely—I’ve been wasting time—pursuing things that really don’t matter.
In the Gospel for this second Sunday of Advent, John the Baptist is sent by God to announce that the period of Israel’s waiting has almost come to an end. The deliverer, the Savior’s arrival is near at hand, so repent in order to prepare for his coming. Waiting provides us with time to think about what needs to be reformed, in order for our lives to be handed over all the more to God.
Pope Benedict concluded his reflection on waiting, by pointing to the example of the Blessed Mother. Mary was a women who waited patiently and with grace. And when she did God accomplished something in her life even she didn’t expect. She gives us the final lesson on waiting. When we wait on God with open minds and hearts, he fills us with grace and self-knowledge and peace and joy that we never expected.
Let us learn from her, the woman of Advent, to live with a new spirit of a profound expectation that only the coming of God can fulfill, for the glory of God and salvation of souls.
No comments:
Post a Comment