Gaudete Means "Woohoo!"

This Sunday (the Third Sunday of Advent) has been traditionally referred to as Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete is the Latin word for "rejoice" and it comes from the first word that appears in the entrance antiphon for this Sunday's Mass: "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice! The Lord is near."

I love Gaudete Sunday. It's our B12 shot for the winter. It carries us through the long shadows of these December days and reminds us that the dawn of our salvation is near! REJOICE!

But let's be honest. This is easier said than done. For the reality is, we live in very dark times. The weight of this blanket of fear seems almost too heavy to pull off. "To rejoice always" seems impossible, to even try it seems a little naive. We are surrounded by war, division, family strife, daily stress, and tragic deaths; another shooting took place in one of our schools just three days ago. The senseless violence continues, a rampant disrespect for the person rages on, and our culture continues to gorge itself on illicit sex and material possessions. Our hearts are full of the wrong kind of fuel. And still we continue to pour it in and hope that something, ANYTHING, will give us that spark of joy we long for that will fire up the engines of our soul and get us out of this darkness.

We want to rejoice. We want lasting joy, yet we know not where to look. "Religion? I tried the Church, and it didn't work. It's full of sinners and hypocrites, like me. Service to others? Did it for awhile and I just ran out of gas. People don't even notice! I had joy in my work, but the bureaucracy and the paperwork and the triple-typed memos about the previous memo killed my sense of creativity and zeal!"

But you've seen some who have this joy. They wear it like a diamond. Like a glittering sword it goes before them, cutting through the legions of doubt, fear, and anxiety that seem always to press in on us. So how can I put on this joy and stay in it? When can I settle down and make JOY my zip code and PEACE my mailing address! I gotta get out of this place! The place where worry and fear always get the upper hand!

I'm reminded of a tale from Tolkien's mythology (of course!). In the Silmarillion, at the dawn of creation, there are angelic creatures known as Ainur who are allowed to shape the world according to the Music they sing. Known as the Ainulindalë, it is one of the most moving passages ever written. That the world was made in Music, not music made in the world, is a profoundly powerful truth. Perhaps that's why music is the language that seems to speak JOY the most, bypassing our reasons for fear. It's primal, elemental, ancient. It precedes the Dark Void; in fact, Music is the presence that impregnates it. Music contains the seed of JOY.
All of the Ainur lovingly assist the One God in shaping the beauty of Middle-Earth, it's mountains and valleys, rivers and seas, except one. His name is Melchor.

What the Ainur make holy, Melchor desecrates. What they build up, he tears down. What they fill, he empties. A battle erupts and the Good Ainur try to chain Melchor, as he twists and corrupts all that's good and true. When the War seems to take a turn for the worse, another Ainur, unheard of in Middle-Earth until now, descends into the newly made realm. His name is Tulkas. And here is the image that for me gets to the "heart of things" - he comes laughing into battle. Laughing...

Streaming from eternity with pure, unfiltered, primal, blazing JOY, he comes. It is the shine from the face of Tulkas, beaming with radiant bliss and confidence in the One from Whom he has come, that scatters Melchor and sends him into the outer darkness. This same joy is seen much later in Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, in the much loved character of Tom Bombadil.

Now just listen to this Sunday's readings, filled as they are with this same joy, and so desirous for us to open up and drink it in:

"Shout for joy, O daughter Zion! Sing joyfully, O Israel! Be glad and exult with all your heart, O daughter Jerusalem! ... The King of Israel, the LORD, is in your midst, you have no further misfortune to fear..."
- Zephaniah 3:14

"Brothers and sisters: Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice! Your kindness should be known to all. The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."
- Philippians 4:4-7


Let's remember that the measure of our joy and peace lies not so much in what we do, but rather in taking in what God has done for us. Joy is receiving the seed of God's own Love into our hearts, then bearing it out in the world. We can truly "rejoice always" in everything inasmuch as we lay our confidence in this.

I Passed By Grace

I passed by Grace the other day
she wanted to talk but I couldn't delay
Stuff to do, calls to make
She knows I'm working for heaven's sake!

So I kicked out some e-mail
I checked off my list
I ran and I ran
with my stomach in a fist

The day moved along
I had a tune in my head
Grace was singing that morning
Not sure what she said

Some words about life
there was water and bread
something simple, so simple
It wouldn't leave my head!

At the end of the day
standing by the gate
She said "Sit for awhile, love
you won't be late."

Rich, full and so fresh
She'd cooked us a meal
But for me the dollar menu
Was the reasonable deal

I hadn't the time
To sit and to sup
I McHurried along
With my bag and large cup

A pre-packaged bundle
And the lines weren't too long
I gulped it right down
Still humming that song

Some words about life
there was water and bread
something simple, so simple
It wouldn't leave my head!

The Straight Road

In Tolkien's mythology of Middle-Earth, he writes of a time before the downfall of humanity, when the world was flat. The Valar, angelic beings similar to the gods of Olympus but much more virtuous, were still present in the world. Their home was a paradise known as Tol Eressëa or the Undying Lands. Elves could reach her shores by sailing West into the sunset. After a vain attempt by mankind to seize the Blessed Realm, and immortality, by force (sound familiar?), this heaven was taken away and the World was bent. It took on the globed shape we know today, and mortals who sailed into the West simply circled the planet and eventually ended up back where they began.

For the Elves, however, a way was left open to return to the Undying Lands; it was known as the Straight Road. As if sailing on an invisible bridge, travelers could pass over the rough and mountainous seas and leave the bent world behind them. It was a grace afforded to only a handful of mortals. This was the road taken by the grey ship at the end of the Lord of the Rings. After the fall of Sauron, when peace finally returned to Middle-Earth, the ringbearers Frodo and Bilbo, and eventually Sam, were given the grace to travel the Straight Road themselves, into the West.

I couldn't help thinking of this story last night, when we heard the reading from Luke 3:1-6 at an evening Mass in Broomall. John the Baptist cried out to a fallen race, our bent world, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

It's coming. Our redemption is near at hand! The time when all shall be made well again. When we can stop running in circles, back to the place we started, feeling alone, abandoned, and frustrated by sin; ours and the sin around us. Finally we can take that Straight Road that leads to the Blessed Realm. It is like that invisible bridge, and perhaps some we know are already on it. They seem to travel well over this bent world, with all of it's valleys and hills. The ship that can take us there is the Bark of Peter, the Church. And the water we sail upon is the river of grace that flows straight from God's own life. The source of this grace? He lies in a manger, in the humblest of places. So come, let us adore Him! And find our way back home!


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Artwork: The Shores of Valinor by Ted Nasmith
On Tolkien's mythology: Catholic Imagination

Wrapped For Advent

Jerusalem, take off your robe of mourning and misery; put on the splendor of glory from God forever: wrapped in the cloak of justice from God, bear on your head the mitre that displays the glory of the eternal name. - Baruch 5:1-9


When I was young, I remember visiting with family around the holidays. The house was always full. Crammed with light and heat, food and drink, storytelling, laughing; music playing and televisions blaring. One of the things I loved to do in the middle of this happy chaos was to escape it. Just for a wee bit...

I'd wander, like Walt Whitman, out into the "mystical, moist night air." Out of the front door and into the wintry darkness. The thrill of the chill woke me up, coming out of a bustling and balmy house full of family. Into the darkened streets I'd go, gazing up at the stars, wandering and wondering, in concentric circles, past the quiet houses with their flickering blue lights from the televisions.

And just when the chill of winter began to sink it's teeth into my bones, the circling led me back to the front door of Grandma's house. The warmth of those sights and sounds was a welcome robe to be wrapped in again.I think this is the dynamic of our lives, this coming and going. Exitus, reditus. And one feeds the other as kindling feeds a flame. In company, we often long for solitude. In solitude, we long for community again. The cold dark and the shining stars can stir deeper thoughts in these winter months. And these thoughts warm the mind with memories and insights. The light and warmth by contrast, invite us to go deeper into the wilderness again.

This dynamic is alive in the figure of St. John the Baptist in this Sunday's gospel. John is a wanderer and a wonderer. He draws the comfortable away from their couches. He takes them outside to look up at the stars! To see the mountains in all their beauty. And he tells them things in the wild so they can take them back inside. To ponder them in their hearts.

Everyone comes to see him. We will see him too, this Sunday. What thoughts will the Baptist stir in us? When he calls to us to turn around, repent, and return, will we stay inside, wrapped in the familiar warmth of a safe life? Or will we wrap ourselves in that cloak of justice from God; the one that speaks to our truest, deepest self? The one that allows us to become that person we were always meant to become.

A voice of one crying out in the desert: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God." - Luke 3:6


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Second Sunday of Advent:
Reading 1 - Bar 5:1-9
Reading II - Phil 1:4-6, 8-11
Gospel - Lk 3:1-6

Two Spiritual Gems from Two Spiritual Giants

On this Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, I thought I'd just offer you a couple of thoughts from the Big Boys; St. Anselm (old school) and Bishop Sheen (new school, kind of). Today's celebration means that Mary, who was conceived through the loving embrace of Joachim and Anne, was kept free from original sin or its stain. This is what "immaculate" means: without stain. We believe that God gave her this grace through the redemptive death of Jesus in a pre-emptive way, because of her unique role in the history of salvation. So to Mary our Star and our Hope, thank you for your YES!

O Virgin, by Whose Blessing All Nature is Blessed!

Blessed Lady, sky and stars, earth and rivers, day and night – everything that is subject to the power or use of man – rejoice that through you they are in some sense restored to their lost beauty and are endowed with inexpressible new grace. All creatures were dead, as it were, useless for men or for the praise of God, who made them. The world, contrary to its true destiny, was corrupted and tainted by the acts of men who served idols. Now all creation has been restored to life and rejoices that it is controlled and given splendour by men who believe in God.
- Excerpt from a sermon by St Anselm

A New Beginning
Our human nature was very much like a polluted stream up until the Incarnation. Imagine a ship, for example, sailing in polluted waters. It wishes to sail in clear waters, but without the pollution coming from one into the other. How could the transfer of the ship be made except by a lock? So the ship in the foul waters would be put into a lock where there would be a separation of waters, then the ship would be raised to the level of the unpolluted waters. Now the Immaculate Conception and the virgin birth were that lock. The pollution stopped because there was no union of man and woman. It was simply woman alone who gave a human nature to Christ and began the new humanity.
- Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen

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The Point Of It All

The Point Of It All by Peter Kreeft

This is a beautiful piece by one of my favorite authors. I just found it at IgnatiusInsight.com and want to tuck it away for safe keeping!

Enjoy reading it here...