Advent reflection (part 2)
by Fr Augusto Zampini Davies
First stop: Visitation. A favoured family (Lk 1:43)
Being favoured by God, or having divine dreams is not something to be kept to oneself. After the Annunciation, Mary went in haste into the hill country to visit her cousins Zechariah and Elizabeth. There Mary and Elizabeth shared God’s blessings of the new lives they were both carrying in their wombs; through a visit, they shared their hopes in lifei. Hope, in fact, in rabbinic Judaism, is centred in the messianic expectation, which is not a matter for the individual, but for the whole Jewish people and religious communityii. Thus, hopes are to be shared in community. Likewise in Hellenic Judaism, hope belongs to life (Ecclus 14:2), and one person can inspire hope in another (Ecclus 13:6), which is transmitted from one generation to another; hope is often of salvation from God (2Mac 11:7), where one is filled with expectations of immortality (Wis 3:4)iii. In short, actual hope fixed in God is something that needs to be shared, expanded, transmitted to communities or families and to new generations. This is what we have in the scene of the Visitation.
But how did this sharing occur, and what was the outcome of it? Luke tells us that it was a “visit” and an “encounter”. Is there anything simpler than a visit? Regardless of its simplicity, a visit can actually change our lives forever, whilst the lack of some visits can hurt us deeply. Encounters, on the other hand, are not as simple as visits; they are actually a development of them, where something of the visitor and the visited is exposed, often with great fear of rejectioniv. When this is well-received, it usually generates relief; and when what is exposed and received is God’s favour on us, the outcome is often an overwhelming joy. The visit and post-encounter, therefore, can transcend the limitations of the individuals and generate something new, not only in the relationship, but also in each person.
When Elizabeth was filled with the divine Spirit that her cousin and visitor (Mary) had passed on to her, she had the honour, according to Luke, of being the first person to joyfully recognise that Jesus is the Lord. The joy, therefore, was caused not because all the problems in Elizabeth’s life had been solved, nor because the struggle of her people had ceased, but rather because she had received something new, from God, through the visit of her cousin. Likewise, Mary was overwhelmed with joy after Elizabeth’s blessing, hence was able to sing a new song of hope expanded now to the whole people of Israel. Still, her problems did not end there.
On the third Sunday of Advent we will celebrate Gaudete Sunday (a day of joy). However, Our Christmas joy, will not be because all the problems of our families or communities have been resolved, nor because poverty has been eliminated from the earth, nor because wars such as the one in Afghanistan have come to an end –although we hope it will happen soon. On the contrary, we will certainly rejoice by perceiving God’s visit and presence among us, including His visit to and His presence in our problems, anxieties, miseries and conflicts. Moreover, we must not confuse Advent-Christmas joy with selfish consumerism or solitary amusement; the hope for actual joy will come from simple visits and deep encounters, from sharing God’s favours so as to expand our human limitations, as happened with Elizabeth and Mary. If we are aiming at having joyful Christmas parties, we need to prepare them thoroughly so as to foster these encounters to prevent futile celebrations or exchanging empty salutations.
When the prophet Isaiah announces that the coming of the Christ will fill our empty valleys (Is 40:4), we can think about our loneliness or individualism, feelings that often favour consumerism and shallow encounters. As psychologists tell us, consumerism, is an activity in which we buy unnecessary things because we want to fill something that is empty in our lives. However, by consuming without need, we normally end up emptier than we were before, so we consume even more so as to try to “fill in” that empty valley, entering a vicious circle that hollows out our souls. Unlike consumerism or alcoholism or any other “isms” which cannot give us what they promise to, the coming of our God can. Advent, therefore, is a time in which we can hope that “every valley will be filled in”, valleys inhabited by individuals-in-community, by sharing valuable gifts that inspire us to further this sharing and prevent us from having false hopes (Ecclus 34,1). New generations are thirsty for this hope; religious persons fixed on God can transmit it.
My story to illustrate and finish this section of the Visitation is about Rafaela, a woman from my former parish in a shanty town in Greater Buenos Aires, who was terribly abused by her husband. It was not until she started to share the gift of being alive in the parish, and the gift of her children with her mother and one of her neighbours, that she started to discover her own dignity and rediscover some self-esteem, with which she was able to begin a new life. Her family as a sharing-community gave her the confidence to stop this abuse from happening. Simple visits and deep encounters bring hope for a new way of living.
Second stop: Acclamation. A favoured people (Lk1:54)
But salvation is not restricted to a favoured woman and a favoured family. After the encounter between the two mothers, both filled by the Holy Spirit, Mary acclaimed the Lord with the Magnificat. The “great things” that God is praised for are related to exalting those at the bottom of society’s priorities: Mary as a slave and humble girl; the hungry filled with good things; Israel as servant of God and enslaved by other people, now helped with God’s merciful presencev. The chronological way of introducing God’s Incarnation by Luke permits us to see a progress in the way salvation operates: from one person, to a family, to the whole of Israel, particularly to those in need.
Connecting this introduction of actual salvation with Isaiah’s prophecy (40:3), the way of the Lord is being prepared not only by filling empty valleys, but also by levelling mountains and hills. The hills may represent difficulties (climbing and descending, often in tough weather), and inequality (extreme contrasts within the land’s surface). The Saviour, through his favoured persons and peoples, is coming to lay low those difficulties and inequalities that prevent the people from developing as humans (difficult and steep mountains) or from forging actual communion (the difference in height, the gap between the inhabitants). When the Saviour was born, he was wrapped in swaddling bands and laid in a manger. Can this be connected with Isaiah’s prophecy about the Servant being wrapped in a mantle of justice (61:10)? It doesn’t seem to be the fulfilment of the prophecy altogether, but it may be the beginning of a process promoting a different type of justice that can liberate human beings from these alienating gaps. The Christ, by being wrapped around with bands of rejection (there was no place for them in the inn), and being laid in a poor manger, was placing himself on one side of the social spectrum, a position clearly depicted in Luke’s Gospelvi. Moreover, the acclamation following Jesus’ birth was firstly performed by poor, homeless and fearful shepherds. Therefore, now the poor can have hope because God is on their side and is really coming to rescue them. The power of Christmas is about conveying this hope to millions of people, who unfortunately are the majority of the world’s population.
Are we poor enough to have this hope in Christmas? Are our celebrations reflecting this favour of God to his people, not merely Israelites (or Christians), but also to all those “poor” people willing and needing to receive God’s favour, the favour of his familiar presence?
Despite the “consumerist negative side”, Christmas has many positives. One is that people are thirsty for something special that goes beyond the material gift or special meal. It is about inclusiveness, about being part of something. Participating in God’s birth in our poverties and miseries can actually transform our lives, as occurred with Mary and with the shepherds. This can set our hope on fire. When something good happens in our communities, nobody likes to be set apart from it. For example, in one of the centres for youth in the same shanty town I mentioned before, there was a little boy called El Manco. He loved being there on Wednesday evenings, because we used to play games without cheating, we shared a proper although simple tea without fighting, and we had a normal time without bullying anyone. But one day he came with a gun, and three seven year old girls came to tell me that. When I called El Manco and asked him what he was carrying under his shirt, he wouldn’t answer. As a result, El Manco was politely -but immediately- expelled from the centre, because there were three sacrosanct conditions for being there: “no drugs, no alcohol, no guns”. Off he went then. Half an hour later he came back, with nothing under his shirt; and he continued playing. He didn’t want to miss the event or to be excluded from it, nor was he rejected by the others. When Christ is around, there is hope for inclusion.
There are lots of Christmas celebrations proclaiming and announcing God’s presence among the poor. In London, I know that at St Martin in the Fields there is a great celebration with the lonely and abandoned by society. Near my house too (e.g. Kairos centre). Can the lonely in our communities have this hope for Christmas? Can we?
Arriving: Birth of the Messiah. A favoured planet (Lk 2:11; Jn 1:14)
If there is any doubt as to whether to consider Christ as the universal Saviour, we just need to read thoroughly the story of His birth. Christ’s universality is not restricted to human beings, but also to the whole universe, our planet included. The prophet Micah announces that Salvation is to happen in “our land” (…), or better, as St Peter puts it, we await new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness will dwell (2Pe 3:13). Similarly, during the Vigil mass we hear how the prophet Isaiah reveals that our “land” is no more to be called “Desolate”, but “Espoused”. Moreover, the angel of the Lord asserts to Joseph that there is no need to fear taking Mary his wife and the child into his “house”, his land, his place. Furthermore, during Christmas Day mass we will hear how the “Word made his dwelling among us”, put his camp on our land. Our land, which is ours and God’s environment, is expecting justice and salvation toovii. Although we know that total justice will only come at the end of time, God’s salvation is already present. The Christians’ mission is to expand it to all individuals and peoples, and to the earth as well.
It is not a coincidence that CAFOD has proposed the “Live Simply Day” for the last Sunday of Advent, as a way of increasing our hope in this new earth that the coming of Christ will bring. Advent is indeed a time to discern the way we consume and understand our wellbeing, and also the way we produce things and understand progress. It is a time to hope that the Church will be more involved in environmental issues, as Pope Benedict argued in his latest Encyclical Caritas in Veritate: “The way humanity treats the environment” –the Pope affirms- “influences the way it treats itself, and vice versa”, which “invites contemporary society to a serious review of its life-style”viii.
The Live Simply Day might not change the dramatic environmental situation, also linked with serious social and economic problems, but it will certainly promote an awareness about consumer choices, contributing to a new culture that can generate energy and production in a more friendly manner, a global culture that does not foment the “desertification” of our land, but rather fulfils the “spouse-productive-for all” prophecy of the coming of the Messiah.
God will come to fill the empty valleys, to level the steep hills, and also to straighten winding ways (Is 40:4), e.g. our confusions and complexities. Our present paramount complexity is the environmental problem. This is something that concerns us all, and is inextricably related to economic, juridical, political, cultural and inter-generational issues. Excluding “our land” for Advent-Christmas is to cut future generations off from Christian hope. Conversely, the hope of people living simply and celebrating this in Advent gives us a new sense of “expectation”, widening salvation to our nature too. In addition, it is a hope that gives us “confidence” in Messianic changes, a confidence that allow us to be patient while working for a complete new heavens and earth at the end of time (1Co 15:19; 2Co 1:10; 3:12; Phil 1:20; Heb 3:6; 1Pe 1:21). It is a hope that winding paths can be made straight, although we would need to walk a long way through their diversions, through our confused perception of nature, economic development, and human wellbeing.
Christ’s birth, our final point of this reflection, is actually the starting point for a new planet, where individuals, families and communities, peoples and nations and God himself live together. This starting point is about our awareness of God among us, his camp on our land, which should open a new reflection on our relationship with nature, our duties towards it, and our responsibility of transmitting hope to future generations.
Augusto Zampini Davies
Advent Reflection for CAFOD 2011 –
Catholic Agency for Overseas Development (Caritas England and Wales)
iFor a further explanation about why Christian hope cannot be individualistic, see Pope Benedict XVI (2004), n.13-15.
iiBultmann and Rengstorf (1963), p.15.
iiiIbid., p.29.
ivWilliams (1994), p.13.
vKing. (2004), p. 128.
viIbid.
viiFor a succinct and compelling theological explanation of the cosmic significance of Christ’s coming to earth, see Deane-Drummond (2009), pp. 95-103.
viiiPope Benedict XVI (2009), n.51.
