Each year, as the Church celebrates the Feast of All Saints and the Comemoration of All Souls, we enter the final weeks of the liturgical year leading to the Feast of Christ the King. It is always a forward-looking time as we anticipate not only the second coming of Christ, but the renewal and re-creation of all that is. It is also a time of joyful anticipation of reunion with all those who have gone before us. The invitation to prayer for a funeral vigil reminds us: “we believe that all the ties of love and affection that knit us together in life, do not unravel in death…” This means that those who have loved us, continue to love us, and hold us in prayer until that time when we are gathered together in the fulness of the Kingdom of God. Our hope, as Christians, is in that promised Kingdom in which death has been conquered and the love which we share with one another will be brought to its fulfillment too. For this reason, during the month of November, we remember the lives of our loved ones: those who have loved us into life and those whom we have loved as they have passed into the arms of the Lord. Remembrance is always bittersweet—they have passed beyond the reach of our arms, but not beyond the reach of our prayers. The formally recognized saints of the Church are joined with the informally recognized saints of our lives until the time we are reunited in the mercy and love of our God.

Advent is a time of new beginnings—it is the beginning of a new liturgical year. However, it very seldom feels that way to us, because we’re all engaged in the increasing frenzy that is the holidays. New Year’s feels like a new beginning because all the activity has slowed down, we’re past the shortest day of the year and we make resolutions for the upcoming calendar year. So, no matter how many times we proclaim that we’re starting a new year, it is difficult to equate that with what our sense experience tells us.

In spite of that reality, Advent offers a time of waiting and expectation for all that God has done in the past, but is continuing to do in our present time. Each Christmas, we welcome Jesus Christ as though it were for the first time. Every person has a sense of hope that perhaps this year will be a deeper, different realization and experience of the God who became one of us—who took on flesh
and dwelt among us. And who, looking at or embracing a newborn child, is not filled with a sense of promise of what that child’s life will bring?
But that sense of hopefulness and reverence does not come automatically. It can only come with an appreciation of the time and seasons of our lives. The lighting of our Advent candles in our wreathes—the steady movement of time marching on and the light growing with each passing week—reminds us in our own lives that we are passing things. The time we have to share with one another along the way is precious, and the time we take to slow down during these winter days helps us to anticipate the birth of Christ with ever growing joy.

The purple that we use during this season in our churches reminds us of the night skies where stars guided and led the magi from the East, and the royal purple used to dress kings. Our prayers are often drawn from the prophet Isaiah who spoke of a “peaceable kingdom,” where natural enemies could walk with one another and a little child would lead them. Our Advent prayer service focusses on these themes and offers our students a way to express not only the anticipation we experience in the secular culture, but provides a faith context to see Christ as the fulfillment of
peace for all the ages.

Lent follows closely upon our Christmas season, and begins with Ash Wednesday. The crosses marked upon our heads during the Ash Wednesday Mass, remind us that in fact, many of our previous years’ plans and resolutions were not realized; that perhaps we did not live out the Easter mystery of new life as well as we might have hoped. Perhaps with the activities and over-committed nature of our lives we did not leave enough room for God. Sometimes the best of our efforts are simply reduced to ashes. The words spoken: “Remember that your are dust, and unto dust you shall return,” or “Turn away from sin and believe in the Good News,” invite us into a spirit of conversion—that it is not too late to change—that there is always
time to seek the mercy of God.

The forty days of Lent offer time to reflect, to fast, to pray, to be charitable and to be renewed—just as the Winter gives way to Spring. The traditional spiritual disciplines of fasting, prayer and almsgiving are each in their own way, opportunities of renewal. Fasting is not about suffering deprivation, but is instead a reminder to us that the things of the world have no control over us—that our inner strength is built up through self-denial. Fasting helps us to grow in appreciation of the qualities of the things we have temporarily given up—we are not owned by our habits or creature comforts—instead we are given these gifts to use for the sake of service of God and of neighbor.

Almsgiving is a discipline that helps us recognize the difference between our wants and our needs. We are so blessed to have most of our true needs readily provided for; yet our wants sometimes take more energy and time than they deserve. Almsgiving reminds us of how richly we have been provided for and the opportunity to share with those who struggle with less. It affirms the dignity of all life and helps us to recognize our connection with the rest of creation.

Prayer is always about deepening the relationship we have with God, but Lent offers a particular focus on the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Stations of the Cross are celebrated each Friday during the Lenten season and focus on some of the last events of the Lord’s life as He made his way from the Mount of Olives and the garden of Gethsemane to his arrest, trial, persecution, crucifixion and ultimately, death. These are times of deep prayer, seeing how great the love of our God is that even His Son should be given over for the sake of a broken and sinful world. These are times of great listening and reflection that help us to prepare for the liturgies of Holy Week—and help to open up the promise of Easter for us all.