Perhaps an almost universal experience this Advent is the experience of longing—longing to be with people we will not be with this Christmas, longing for Christmas traditions that will not be the same, longing for safety, longing for normalcy, longing for an end to COVID.
Longing. Such an interesting word. It means a “strong wish or desire.” Synonyms include yearning, pining, craving, aching, thirsting, hungering, hankering, lusting, burning. There are origins in both Old English langian “to prolong or extend” and in German langen, “to reach or extend.” I keep thinking of the word itself, “long.” Lllloooooooooonnnnnnnnggggg. This COVID year is lllllloooooooonnnnnggg.
A Reading from Song of Songs
The experience of longing in today’s first reading from Song of Songs is beautifully painful.
Hark! my lover–here he comes
springing across the mountains,
leaping across the hills.
My lover is like a gazelle
or a young stag.
Here he stands behind our wall,
gazing through the windows,
peering through the lattices.
My lover speaks; he says to me,
“Arise, my beloved, my dove, my beautiful one,
and come!
While the imagery in Song of Songs is the imagery of romantic lovers, the Church has traditionally interpreted it as being about the love affair between God and humanity.
And so, today, as I read the poetry, I feel my feelings of longing for people and activities…and for God. I can remember longing for my husband-to-be when he was away in the Marines, longing for Kentucky when we were first married and living in Virginia, longing for children, longing for Christmas like it was last year.
Today’s Gospel: Our Lover Comes
Today’s Gospel is the first part of the second Joyful Mystery of the Rosary. Perhaps, like me, you have clear images of the Visitation from praying the Rosary.
I see Elizabeth, now six months pregnant, sitting in her house, eyes closed for a few moments nap. As Mary approaches the door, she sounds a greeting, as we would. “Elizabeth, are you home?” Aroused, Elizabeth recognizes Mary’s voice and baby John kicks as six months along babies do! The Holy Spirit fills John and Elizabeth. Joy pours out!
and Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit,
cried out in a loud voice and said,
“Most blessed are you among women,
and blessed is the fruit of your womb.
And how does this happen to me,
that the mother of my Lord should come to me?
For at the moment the sound of your greeting reached my ears,
the infant in my womb leaped for joy.
Blessed are you who believed
that what was spoken to you by the Lord
would be fulfilled.”
What joy for Elizabeth, as the Holy Spirit prompts her to recognize this is not just cousin Mary, this is cousin Mary AND her child, who is THE LORD, the One the people of Israel have longed for through hundreds of years! What joy for baby John who recognizes “the One who is to come!” What joy for Mary, that her cousins verify what the angel has told her!
Even sinless Mary surely must have had some questions about the details of how God was going to work things out for this Virgin Birth. Here she has confirmation of what the angel told her about Elizabeth—and what the angel told her about herself. What joy must have filled her totally human soul with realization of those confirmations.
Tomorrow the story continues with her beautiful Magnificat.
As I read and pray, joy fills me, too. It is good to enter into this Mystery of the Visitation and feel the joy. My soul longs for Visitation Joy.
Recollection and Joy
Last weekend I attended a virtual retreat from St. Meinrad for us oblates. The topic was “Recollection.” My understanding of recollection had come from St. Teresa of Avila. My memory of recollection as she described it was that it is about entering into prayer with your whole being—body, mind, and soul. I had interpreted that to mean being able to keep my mind on prayer…or letting it drift in a way that God chooses. Recollection was about keeping my focus on the here and now moment of prayer.
Fr. Mateo, who gave the retreat, marvelously expanded my understanding of recollection. I would summarize what he taught as “recollection is mixing prayer and life, so we know what is important and we let God guide us; it is focusing on God while we focus on life.” Recollection is holding attentiveness to God while also holding attentiveness to life–in tandem.
Prayer becomes the center of everything: It is not separate, a place to retreat to. Nor is it a time to dump all our cares on God’s shoulders and be done with the day. It is where we and God meet to bring God into the little circle of the world which is ours to live His life.
It seems to me, today at least, that when we do that (if we do that) the joy of baby John, of Elizabeth, and of Mary is ours. We have our own Visitation. Like John, we recognize Christ hidden within the people we meet. Like Elizabeth, we have the consolation that God comes to us—carried by the people in our lives. Like Mary, we have confirmation from God that as we follow the clues God gives us (“your cousin is in her sixth month”) with a serving heart, God works things out. God, our lover, comes with Visitation Joy.
Prayer
Lord, today let me enter fully into this Mystery of Mary, Elizabeth, and baby John. Give me the gift of recollection that I may use this story to bring You into my life, my longings, this last week before Christmas. Give order to me, Lord. Help me to know what is important. Help me to recognize You in events and people. Help me show You everything in my heart—including all these longings for what is not going to be this year. Help me, like the lover in Song of Songs, yearn for You. For You come, EVERY Christmas. You come, EVERY day. Be with me, Lord, and help me to SEE You and to recognize what You are telling me—in COVID, in this Christmas, in my friends, family, and tasks. Come Lord Jesus, with Visitation Joy.
