Advent: A Season of Expectation and Hope

Dear Friends and Readers,

I offer this essay as a catalyst for enriching our celebration of Advent. It is an excerpted and reordered version of an article in my book, The Gracious Mystery, pp. 112-114.

Peace,

Fr. Jim Bacik

Advent: A Season of Expectation and Hope

Advent is the liturgical season during which we await the coming of the Lord. The rich symbolism of this season evokes a sense of longing and anticipation as we wait for the celebration of Christmas. Advent strikes responsive chords with many who are serious about the spiritual life because it expresses in ritual, symbol and story our ordinary experiences of expectation, anticipation and hope.

A recent study by the American Psychiatric Association found that Americans are feeling very anxious about this coming holiday season, more so than in previous years. Americans are anxious about financial concerns: the price of groceries; inflation; higher health insurance premiums; the effect of tariffs on consumer prices; and the ability to pay for traditional Christmas gifts and parties. Various world events are also contributing to our growing anxiety: for example, the continuing Russian attack on Ukraine; the state of the peace process in Gaza; the deportation policies of the administration; and the buildup of military forces in the Caribbean. This growing anxiety is not good for the spiritual health of our society, making it harder for believers to maintain our faith convictions and our hopes for a better future.

Moreover, our worries can morph into extreme anxiety for some individuals who feel overwhelmed, paralyzed and hopeless. They are like the main characters in Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, who are paralyzed and inert. Along the same line, in his book, The Courage to Be, the creative and respected Lutheran theologian, Paul Tillich, distinguished three kinds of anxiety, including the anxiety of meaninglessness that leads to doubts about Christian doctrines, spiritual inertia, and at an extreme “existential despair.” Pope Francis said “losing hope is suicidal,” adding that prayer is a better solution than heavy drinking.

The Church’s liturgical season of Advent has powerful resources for dealing with the increased levels of anxiety. It strengthens our hope as we prepare for a spiritual celebration of Christmas. It has a remarkable capacity to quiet our hearts and sharpen our expectations, to manage our anxieties and to open our hearts to the coming of Christ. It has the paradoxical power both to quiet our hearts and sharpen our expectations. The great Advent figures of John the Baptist and Mary of Nazareth are present as inspiring models who teach us how to wait with a healthy anticipation for the coming of the Lord.

The Baptist, blessed with a clear sense of his role as forerunner and herald, is nevertheless not lulled into passivity waiting for the coming of the Messiah. Rather, he goes into the desert and preaches a baptism of repentance. He instructs tax collectors and soldiers in their proper obligations. Lay leaders, the entrenched collaborators and the puppet king are all targets of his searing criticism. He is actively engaged in the task of clearing a straight path and making the rough ways smooth so that the people can recognize the salvation of God.

For all his courageous activity, the Baptist ends up constrained in prison forced to wait, deprived of contact with Jesus who fueled his dreams. The lonely waiting takes its toll and he begins to waver and to doubt. Is Jesus the one we have been waiting for, or must we wait still longer for another? The answer comes back: The sick are cured and the poor hear the Good News. There is no need to wait for another. The long hours of confinement continue, but we can imagine John awaiting his fate with a renewed sense of inner peace and unwavering hope because the Lord has indeed come.

Mary, the maid of Nazareth engaged to Joseph, appears in the Scriptures as one awaiting a word from the Lord. On alert, she hears the message of her favored status and her crucial role. Not content with passive acceptance, she questions the very possibility that she could be the mother of the long-awaited messiah. Satisfied with the response, she opens herself completely to God, thus she becomes totally receptive and the wondrous deed is accomplished. The ever-present Gracious Mystery becomes personally, definitively and irrevocably present in our history. The Word becomes flesh. Human existence realizes its full potential. Responsive waiting issues in the fullness of life. Then the extraordinary yields to the ordinary. Mary springs into action and goes with haste to visit and assist her pregnant kinswoman, Elizabeth.

In the stories of John and Mary, Advent and Christmas are revealed as essentially related. History has prepared for the Incarnation. A proper receptivity enables us to recognize the presence of the Mystery. Healthy activity prepares for the coming of the Lord. The dynamic synthesis of waiting and acting, of receptivity and effort, of anticipation and hope proves to be fruitful and blessed by God.

From this perspective our waiting can never be the same. The message of Advent and Christmas challenges our impatience and lethargy and heals our frustration and anxiety. We are called to wait with greater calmness, to act with greater resolve and to live with greater hope. Thus, we wait not as bewildered voyagers seeking a distant port, but as members of a family already comforted by the presence of our elder brother. Rather than speaking of a “second coming” or “the return of the Lord,” we should proclaim the Risen Christ who is already present and who calls on us to cooperate in completing his work.

Christmas completes Advent by assuring us our deepest hopes are not in vain. The celebration of the Incarnation will have greater power and meaning if we prepare well by managing our days with faith and intelligence and by cultivating a prayerful and receptive spirit. Then we can pray with understanding and conviction. Loving Father transform all our waiting and fulfill our deepest longings so that the light of Christ, the word made flesh, can shine ever brighter.