We used to have a beautiful, real Advent wreath in our parish each year. There was a special brace attached to a spot on the ceiling from which hung the huge ring of greenery, signifying the eternal life that Christ gained for us, and candles. I don’t know why the parish stopped using it; no one asked my opinion.
The ‘fake’ one we have now is passable. The ladies do a nice job making sure it’s all fluffed out and ribboned up, and the three purple and one pink candle are there, so I guess that’s the important thing.
It just feels like a shortcut, to me. But lets talk about the candles for a minute. The three purple candles represent the liturgical color of the Advent season; the purple stands for repentance and anticipation, and it is also the color of royalty – fitting for the coming of our King.
The third Sunday of Advent sees the lighting of the pink, or rose-colored candle; this is Gaudete Sunday, which means “rejoice” – the Lord is very near. Two weeks of Advent down, two weeks to go.
I’ve already discussed elsewhere on this blog about how Advent gets over-shadowed by Christmas, and not the birth, either. The trees go up, the lights go up on the roof; presents are bought and the retailers are hoping for a lucrative ‘Black Friday,’ the biggest money-making day of the year. And don’t forget, Santa is waiting at the mall.
Methinks that Christmas could easily come and go with no mention at all of the Savior of the world being born.
WP (see Readers Guide) said on the 2nd Sunday of Advent, as well as the first, that the candle light signifies the ever-growing intensity of light that is representative of The Light of The World, and His coming. He said that if it were pitch black in the church we could more clearly see the ever-growing light as the birth of Christ nears.
The Light of the world = Love. Love, sent to us out of love for us, sent to us to die for love of us.
Unconditional, unequivocal love – the one thing we all want and need most. It is coming – if only we would take the time to “see the Light.”
My fixation with Christmas music in no way detracts from the solemnity of the Advent season. Just the opposite, in fact. When I listen to Christmas music, I wonder constantly how the Blessed Mother must have felt in her ‘condition’, having been there several times myself, and at just this time of year, too. I wonder how Joseph felt when he couldn’t find so simple a thing as a place for he and his wife to rest. I wonder how he felt when the realization came to him that the child of his wife, the child of God, was going to be born in a stable.
Personally, and I mean no disrespect, I don’t think Mary really cared where the child would be born – as long as it hurried up. Like I said, been there, done that.
So, with all that in mind, I think I’ll make a list of all the Christmas music in the house. It will be a shamefully long.
Over and out.