REFLECTION ON THE FINAL WEEK OF ADVENT
I suppose I should title this the last half-week of Advent. The faster I go, the behinder I get. I just noticed that our Advent calendar said 15 December (if only…) and remedied that!
Sunday’s reading, the Anunciation, has been discussed, researched, preached, and homilied so much that there is little that someone like me could add, I would think. What I can reflect upon is the personal message it has had for me (probably not typical, as I imagine that all of you have personal reflections, understandings, and reactions beyond the preached texts and subtexts).
Jesus, by his example, showed us how to live holy, humble lives. There has never been a crazy decision to be made in which I could not look at those examples and find some divine enlightenment. Not, regrettably, that I have always been aware enough, wise enough, or obedient enough to follow through when I might have other, unwise, inclinations…but it would be hard to find a situation where we have not been given an example if we choose to follow it, whether we think we can or not, whether we think we will be allowed to or not.
Similarly, Mary, by example, showed us how to manage adversity. The word, “manage,” I believe is the right verb. We do not “suffer” adversity unless we are wont to pity ourselves (and to no real avail), which Mary did not. She accepted the will of God in serving as a “home” for the incarnation, in bearing the social ostracization that had to have occurred in the society of that day, and in fully experiencing her son’s birth under difficult conditions and her son’s death under even worse ones. What other challenges greeted her? We don’t know all of them, but we have sufficient examples from Mary’s life and actions to accept and willingly experience our own adversity (which, for bad or, often, good, no one escapes).
How we respond to adversity says a lot more about us than how we react to success, reward, and happy events. How we help others respond to adversity says even more. How we think about adversity, accepting it like Mary did—or not, leads to our ability to manage life’s adversities—or not.
Adversity can take so many forms, and people will perceive and define it uniquely though it is likely that all will agree that 2020 has brought adversity to nearly everyone, from climate tragedies to pandemic-caused medical and financial losses. The latter—economic adversity—takes me back to the winter of 1994, not a significant year for anyone else I know but a very difficult one for my family.
In the winter of 1994, both Carl and I were essentially unemployed. I had a full-time job with no salary (too long a story to tell now), and Carl was a freelancer with fewer gigs than needed for a four-child family. Then, along came Christmas, the season of joy and hope—and no money for Christmas gifts. We did, however, have each other, the best gift possible. After all, God’s Christmas gift to us was a small baby—not wealth, not fame, not lack of troubles. Something greater. A person. Himself as a person, joining us under adverse conditions.
To celebrate on that 1994 Christmas the joy of the great gift we already had—each other, Carl and I gave each of the kids a coupon book. Carl designed the coupons on the computer, we stapled them, and I hid them among the branches of the tree so the kids would have some fun looking for them. Each child got a 10-coupon booklet with his or her name on it. Each coupon was personalized and could be cashed in at any time in 1995 for the face value, e.g., one hour playing dominoes with Mom, two hours of computer instruction with Dad, a special dinner prepared with and eaten one-on-one with Dad (everyone knew Mom cannot cook), a walk and talk at a child-determined time with Mom, and so on. All those coupons, over the year, were cashed in for their one-on-one time with one parent or another. That Christmas is remembered by all as one of the very best we have had. Without commercial adornments of assumed and short-term happiness lying under the Christmas tree, we found joy in each other that Christmas and all the days that followed.
So, as 2020 ends, a year of clear adversity, however one defines it, let us look not for mere happiness but for the joy of Christmas. Joy that comes from the hope inspired by the presence of the Presence. Bubbles of joy that rise to the surface in grace lived, grace revealed, and grace recognized. Joy found in and shared with each other at home and in our OEF family.
Merry Christmas!
Betty Lou