A SMALL GIFT FOR YOUR CHRISTMAS LECTIO DIVINA

 

The birth of Christ our Savior at Christmas is a mystery that draws us into contemplation of the beloved Word Made Flesh.  However, as we all know, it is only a start, a first step into the mystery of God’s love that grows deeper and overflows with wonder as this holy season unfolds into a new year..

 Here is a small suggestion to inspire your prayer:

 Picture the scene of Christ in the manger surrounded by those who loved him – and that delightful ox and ass, which are borrowed from Isaiah 1 (a text not so complimentary to us who enjoy their presence in Christmas are!)   

Put the scene next to some of the statements Jesus made about himself and his work as an adult already plunged into his public ministry.  See what insights that juxtaposition leads you to!  (I’ve been doing this myself and have had some surprises—I wish the same to you! I’ve tucked in some examples in case you need a jump start! They’re pretty random, and spur-of-the-moment, but this reflection is one more pre-Christmas case of “finished is better than perfect”!)

Here are those  examples to start your reflection.  You probably have favorites you can add to the list for yourself.

 (These are all from the Gospel of John, which emphasizes that Jesus is, as the Nicene creed says, “God from God”.  The “I am” phrase always summons up the memory of Exodus 3, where the God who appears to Moses in the burning bush claims the name/title: “I am”.)

 I am the bread of life… (John 6:35)

 I am the Light of the world (John 8:12 …think of all those Christmas cards that depict the baby in the manger surrounded by light).

 I am the gate for the sheep (John 10:7 == the gate of the sheepfold, where the Shepherd leads us to safe refuge.)

 I am the good shepherd (John 10:10).  Think of the shepherds summoned to the Child in the crib the message of the angel. What would this image have said to them if they had lived long enough to hear it from the lips of the adult Jesus? What does it say to us, who read about the angel’s announcement to the shepherd during Christmas?

 I am the way (John 14:6)

 …to which he adds elsewhere, “unless you become like a little child, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven” (see John 3).

 I am the truth (John 14:6)   In himself, God’s Word made flesh, Jesus reveals both the truth of who God is and the truth of who we were made to be.  See what happens when you set that idea against the nativity scene and Jesus’ later life.

 The list goes on and on in Johns’ gospel—the resurrection and the life (John 12), the vine (John 15), the very different king (John 19), and probably more that I have missed in John’s text but also elsewhere in the gospels.  Watch out!  If you do a bit of this exercise, they may pop up all over! 

Copyright 2021 Abbey of St. Walburga

The Advent "O" Antiphons: a Source for Lectio Divina

 The “O” antiphon have been sung before and after the Canticle of Mary (Magnificat)  at Evening Prayer since the seventh century (or so!) We at the Abbey chant the traditional Latin texts to their very ancient melody every year.  They are called "O" antiphons because each begins with "O"!

There is a reason to their order. The first letter of each title of Christ in Latin listed from last to first form an acrostic: E(mmanuel), R(ex), O(riens), C(lavis), R(adix), A(donai), Sapientia give us “ero cras,” which means “I will be there tomorrow”.  And, of course, the last one is sung on December 23. (Liturgically speaking the celebration of Christmas begins with Evening Prayer on December 24).

 The antiphons are very rich biblically saturated meditations on Jesus Christ, the savior whose birth we will celebrate on December 27.  I invite you to use them as sources for lectio divina this week. Pick one or two (or more!) favorites to memorize and carry with you whenever you need a word from Scripture to settle, center, or reconnect you to God.

 Below is the list in order, from this evening through December 23.  They are familiar as the verses of the hymn “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” and from the gospel acclamations at Mass, though in both cases the order is somewhat altered.

 A very blessed Advent and Christmas to all!

 December 17

O Wisdom of our God Most High,
guiding creation with power and love:
come to teach us the path of knowledge!

 December 18

O Leader of the House of Israel,
giver of the Law to Moses on Sinai:
come to rescue us with your mighty power!

 December 19

O Root of Jesse’s stem,
sign of God’s love for all his people:
come to save us without delay!

 December 20

O Key of David,
opening the gates of God’s eternal Kingdom:
come and free the prisoners of darkness!

 December 21

O Radiant Dawn,
splendor of eternal light, sun of justice:
come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the
shadow of death.

 December 22

O King of all nations and keystone of the Church:
come and save man, whom you formed from the dust!

 December 23

 O Emmanuel, our King and Giver of Law:

come to save us, Lord our God!

Copyright 2021 Abbey of St. Walburga

Advent: the Season of Hope?

(Apologies! I inadvertently failed to hit the "publish" button on this one when I posted it on December 4!  Those of you who are Abbey oblates received a copy by e-mail.)

Advent, as we all know, is the season of hope—and how badly we need that hope these days, but how hard it is to come by!

St. Benedict does not speak of Advent, which was an innovation not yet widely observed in his day, but he does speak of hope.  He might look with a wry eye on the endless solutions to endless problems that spring up in the media daily.  He proposed only one solution to the dark temptations to despair that for us may come such current events as COVID and school violence and financial distress, and for him and his monks from waves of invading barbarian forces and harsh clashes among Christians and the ever-present struggle with everything that would tempt them away from their commitment to live the Rule: “Place your hope in God alone” (RB 4:41). 

He did not mean to sit back amid clouds of incense and wait for God to do something while we  recite psalms and think pious thoughts.  St. Benedict taught an eminently practical feet-on-the-ground wisdom.  What he really meant was to live in all sorts of small, unspectacular ways toward the goal for which we hope.  He defined that goal for Benedictines with an eye on the far horizon beyond which lies the fulfillment of all our hopes:  “Let [us] prefer nothing whatever to Christ, and may he bring us all together to everlasting life” (RB 72:11-12).

 In the context of the Rule, this hope requires all sorts of small steps to reach that day.  He spells them out in detail in RB 4, “On the Tools of Good Works.”  Don’t kill anybody, at least not on purpose—and elsewhere he spells out when it is acceptable to smack someone and when not.  Don’t pamper yourself—even as you look up yet another recipe for cranberry sauce or pecan pie.  Don’t take that one-too-many glass of wine.  Don’t lie to anyone.  The list goes on for seventy-eight pithy verses under the general heading of “First of all, love the Lord God with your whole heart, your whole soul and all your strength, and love your neighbor as yourself” (RB 4:1-2).  He spells out more details throughout the rest of the Rule, from the tough challenges of obedience, silence, and humility to the zillion ways in which love of God and neighbor are expressed in practice—all with the goal of reaching that final moment when “[Christ] brings us together to everlasting life.”

 As we all know, it takes some work to translate this sixth century guide to good behavior within the monastery into real-life practice both in and outside the monastery in this Year of Our Lord 2021.  Directives for hygiene and healthy eating, for example, are simply no longer acceptable.  We don’t have to do everything during daylight because the only form of artificial light is unreliable oil lamps.  We can do our lectio and pray our Hours from books conveniently printed and bound. 

 But St. Benedict’s wisdom is timeless:  look for Christ always and everywhere, keep your feet on the ground and forget about pie-in-the-sky, build God’s reign by building strong networks of mutual love wherever you can—and, his clincher, the last of the tools of good works, “never lose hope in God’s mercy” (RB 4:74).  No matter what bad news knocks on the door, no matter how great the temptation to save-yourself-and-let-God-look-out-for-the rest, no matter how dark the winter night, keep the light of Christ burning in your heart, encourage one another—AND NEVER LOSE HOPE IN GOD’S MERCY BECAUSE GOD’S MERCY NEVER LOSES SIGHT OF US.. 

 

©2021 Abbey of St. Walburga