Savor the Story

by Fr. Ben Hawley, SJ on The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas)

What is it about Christmas tree lights, candles, a fire in a fireplace at this time of year? Especially when there is snow on the trees and bushes? For me they represent an invitation beyond friends and family, beyond gifts given and received, beyond visits made and meals eaten.  They represent an invitation into silence, into personal reflection, into that which is beyond words and thoughts, except possibly the words of the Story that tell us the origin and source of this time of year.

Like the prophet Elijah who found God as the still, small voice, we find ourselves invited to find God as the still, small Child whose presence and person are better intuited than understood.  To find a deeper sense of the mystery of life, the gratitude for who one is more than what one has, and the inspiration to move forward – all these come in the silence, often the relief that the silence offers.

For me today the silence comes amidst the boxes, tape, and packing materials not of gifts received but of moving boxes opened and contents distributed around my new room. We Jesuits are now finally all in our new house with all our things moved. And with the resulting confusion: “Where did I pack that?” ”Why did I bring this along?”  “These boxes aren’t mine.”  It is all very exciting and very unsettling all at once. I see that my room has a pristine look with just the basic furniture, all the books, papers, framed things, gifts from times past remaining in their boxes. “Why can’t it always be like this?” I think. The answer is that life isn’t always pristine. So, now what?

The Now What? is the silence of the first night in my new room in this Advent Season now becoming the Christmas Season. In the silence I can feel the reality of the Child being born yet again as companion to my own inner child that gives my grown up child meaning and value – and above all peace.  Soon enough I will be at the parish to preside at the Christmas Eucharist. But now all is silent and at peace.  And I can be at peace because the Child is born – in me, in you, in everyone and everywhere. The invitation is to stop and savor the silence in the presence of the tree with its lights, and the candles – and the Story.

May we all find that peace in that Story this Christmas Day and in this Christmas Season.

-Fr. Ben Hawley, SJ is the pastor of St. Mary Student Parish.

Celebrate a Merry Little Christmas

by Rachel Connor on Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Advent (Christmas Eve)

While my grandfather was alive, my family used to invite him over for dinner on Christmas Eve. We’d clean the house until it was sparking, set out the really nice dishes, and prepare a meal of oyster stew that my younger self thought looked better than it tasted. I always looked forward to these evenings for two reasons: because my parents would give me a glass of wine with dinner, and because I really liked spending time with my grandfather.

See, I have a really big family. My dad is the oldest of nine, and my mom is one of seven children. Holiday get-togethers with the family are loud and overcrowded, and more than a little chaotic. There are always five different conversations going on at once and you never get to hear all of what is going on in anyone’s life.

Christmas Eve dinners were different. We could hear each other speak without yelling and we could be really intentional about appreciating each other’s presence. It’s common for us to hear that an important part of Christmas is family, but I think what that sentiment is really getting at is that relationships are important to us, and Christmas is a time when we are reminded of that. Not only are we reminded of our relationships with others, but we are reminded of our relationship with Christ.

So this Christmas, amidst the running around and opening presents and visiting relatives, remember to take some time to sit down with one or two people and just be together, celebrating a merry little Christmas.

Questions for Reflection:

What holiday traditions do you share with your family and how do they help you grow in relationship with Christ and others? 

What tradition could you add this season that would allow you to connect more deeply with people?

-Rachel Connor is a Peer Minister at St. Mary Student Parish.

The Joy of Christmas Present

by Katy Rapson on Tuesday of the Fourth Week of Advent

I recently performed in a production of A Christmas Carol the musical, the classic Christmas story of how the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future try to teach Mr. “Bah-Humbug” Ebenezer Scrooge the true meaning of Christmas. Each of these ghosts has a very distinct personality that almost perfectly reflects how I so often feel about the past, present, and future: The Ghost of Christmas Past is beautiful, but distant, and illustrates Scrooge’s life with the kind of clarity that comes only with reflection. The Ghost of Christmas Future is by far the most mysterious of the three—silently revealing Scrooge’s “yet to be.”

But my favorite of the three (and the one that’s made me reflect the most) is definitely the Ghost of Christmas Present. He is purely joyful—jolly even—and what I’ve learned from him is that joy lives in the present. Even though so often (especially in the advents of our lives) we feel like the joy has past or is yet to be, it is in the present that we choose joy, in the present that we experience joy, in the present that we live joy.

As Christmas envelopes us in the next few days, it will be easy to get wrapped in the busyness and stress of making the final preparations.  For some of us, it will be easy to compare this Christmas to past Christmases and think that the joy lives there. For others, it will be easy to think that a truer or bigger joy lives in Christmases yet to be. But my prayer for all of us is that we can be present and choose joy in these Christmas moments, even if life feels confusing or presents are unwrapped or houses are a mess. I pray that we can all choose joy, because as Sara Barielles so beautifully puts it: love is simply joy. When we are letting joy lead us, we are letting Love lead us, and we are welcoming a beautiful present.

Love, we look to you. Let Love lead us; Love is Christmas.

-Katy Rapson graduated from the University of Michigan in December 2013.  She served as St. Mary's Intern for Undergraduate Faith Formation for the 2012-2013 academic year.

I Love You, and You Are Mine

by Katie Larin on Monday of the Fourth Week of Advent

Ever since I was young, I have loved the song “You are Mine.” It has always struck me as such a profound exclamation of God’s personal love for us. Although it is not necessarily an Advent song, the theme of waiting in joyful hope for a God who loves us so much shines through beautifully.

Below are a few of my thoughts as I reflect on the lyrics of the song.

 “I will come to you in the silence”

Christmas is three days away. Because I finished exams just a few days ago, my past weekend has been filled with shopping, seeing old friends, and completing last minute preparations (I should probably be working on post-grad applications too!). As I get closer to the holiday, I often forget to be still. I forget to slow down and recognize the significance and joy of Jesus’ birth.

“I am hope for all the despairing, healing for the ones who dwell in shame”

As we wait in joyful anticipation, this song reminds me that Jesus’ birth is cause for immense hope. He has come to be hope for the hopeless, to heal those in shame, to cure the blind and lame, and to lead all to freedom. What wonderful gifts – and all out of love!

“I have called you each by name”

But. This hope and love is not simply for everyone, a blanket statement of love over the entire world. This love is for each one of us, individually. He has called us each by name. He claims us as His choice. We belong to Him, for He came, on December 25^th, out of love for us. For me. For you.

Come and follow me, I will bring you home. I love you, and you are mine.

Questions for Reflection: 

Amidst the busyness of the Advent season and last minute preparations, have you found time to be still, to allow space for God to come to you in the silence?

What are you hoping for as Christmas approaches? Healing? Freedom? Peace?

Do you recognize that Jesus came to this earth out of personal, immense love for you?

-Katie Larin is a senior at the University of Michigan, majoring in Organizational Studies. She is the current Outreach and Engagement Intern.

O Radiant Dawn

by Bill Alt on the Fourth Sunday of Advent

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

Every night, my sons want the bathroom light on when they go to sleep and I don’t blame them. I want the light on too. I don’t want to be in the dark where I cannot see, where there is fear and grief. I don’t want the pain of unknowing. I don’t want the long wait, the uncertainty of whether change is really possible, and perhaps that is why I fill my Advent with Christmas, celebrating the days with carols, cookies, shopping, and parties before Christmas dawns. Yet, I know that if there is to be the day, there must also be the night and I must wait.

Tonight at vespers, the Church’s evening prayer, we will sing “O Radiant Dawn” and call upon the light of Christ to break upon our dark and tired world. These words are one of the “O antiphons”, the antiphons sung the last week before Christmas. Together they evoke marvelous images for Christ, reminding us of who we have been waiting for and calling us to greater anticipation for Christmas. Tomorrow, the dawn will come a little sooner, the darkness will recede, and our days will grow longer. Christmas is almost here!

But it is not Christmas yet and there is still waiting to be done and darkness. The darkness is uncomfortable and scary but it is where we wait for Christ. Sometimes, however, the darkness can seem to be unbearable as when a mother loses a child or a husband loses a wife, death coming for those we love. I know that kind of darkness this year.

My very first friend, Laura, who I met when I was five years-old pretending to be a dog nipping and barking at her feet and her laughing, died this past February after battling breast cancer. I love her and I miss her and it still hurts. My hurt does not compare to the pain her sister and parents, her husband and little boys are feeling at their first Christmas without her.

 What can we do but hold each other in the dark, wait, and sing for the dawn we believe must come, needs to come, and will come. Everyone will feel or has felt loss, pain, and regret. What can you do but hold each other in the dark, wait, and sing for the morning to come. Christmas will come and we are sentinels for it patiently waiting and calling for the first light to slip the edge of the world and change everything.

Questions for Reflection: 

In what ways have you waited in darkness for the light of Christ? 

How have you waited with others and how have others waited with you?

-Bill Alt is the Alternative Spring Break Assistant at St. Mary Student Parish

Listen to the Whispers

by Ryan Townshend on Saturday of the Third Week of Advent

Take some time this day to stop and think about the last time that God has spoken to you. Can you remember? Often, we lose ourselves in the rush, the three lanes of traffic on the highway, the arm length list for the grocery store, the hundred gifts we need to get for relatives, family and friends.

Suddenly amongst the chaos of modern materialism, monetary standards of success and a pushing socioeconomic drive for education, I find myself stopping in a stand of trees on my way home to my apartment in the far reaches of the north campus wilds. The sun gently rests on my face as it falls through the parted tree branches accompanying the light falling of snow as it tries to add its soft white hue to the sleeping Earth. This is how God spoke to me that day. The words were felt more than heard. They were a reminder. Our ultimate goal in life should be to serve our Creator, not serve ourselves. It’s in small moments like this that I find God most present with me. This is when I remembered that God won’t always scream at us like the ads on the television with flashing bright lights and wired ecstatic voices pushing “good deals” that we “absolutely need” to get.  

In the reading from Isaiah 7:10-14, Isaiah tells Ahaz to ask “for a sign from the Lord,” but Ahaz refuses. Isaiah rebukes him and says the Lord will give him a sign none-the-less and it is revealed to him that Jesus is to be born to Mary the Blessed Virgin. How often do we find in our lives that God is inviting us with small signs everyday that we refuse to see? Spend some quiet time today and simply listen. God may speak to you if you just take the time to hear Him.   

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, 

edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc., renewed 1951, by Robert Frost. 

   

Dig Deep!

by Abbie Scheske on Friday of the Third Week of Advent

Two summers ago, I had the opportunity to hear Cardinal Timothy Dolan, a prominent and charismatic leader, speak on “hope.” He told about a time he spoke with an atheist man. In the conversation Dolan asked the man what he hoped for. The man hoped to provide for his family, have a good home, keep his job, etc. In response Dolan said: “And what would you hope for if all of that was gone?” No answer. “That is what we call ‘God’,” spoke Dolan. He continued: “God is our everlasting hope.” When we feel there is nothing left, and we hit the lowest moments of our life, we can hope in God. We can hope in God when we’re at our best and when we’re at our worst. No matter what, if we ask, He will fill us with the hope of everlasting love and joy. 

If that sounds appealing to you, then you owe it to yourself to dig deeper into God. This Advent is the perfect time to start! How loved are we to have someone who will have our backs day in and day out? Someone who can shatter the darkness with the light of day? Why let yourself wither when the Lord has provided the gift of hope to let you stand strong? Be at peace. And today and going forward, give back to yourself. More importantly, give back to God for the blessing of well-being ALL the time when we place our hope in Him.

Suggestion for Prayer and Questions for Reflection:

Take a few moments and reflect on this passage: “The sun shall be no more your light by day, nor for brightness shall the moon give light to you by night; but the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory,” (Isaiah 60:19). 

Has there been a time when you were troubled and felt God was not your light of hope? If so, have you taken a moment to offer that time up to God in prayer, and ask that He re-instill your hope in Him?

-Abbie Scheske is a junior in the School of Nursing.  She serves as a student leader for the Catholic Student Association at St. Mary Student Parish.