While this is understandable from a commercial point of view, it clashes with the Church’s observance and understanding of Advent — that time of both preparation for Christmas and anticipation for the Second Coming of Christ.

How can we keep Advent in a culture that has forgotten this important liturgical season?

• Put up an Advent wreath in your home. Light it during meal time with your family.
• Start each day in prayer and reflection. Many parishes provide a booklet of reflections for use during Advent; you can also purchase such booklets from a local Catholic bookstore or online Catholic supply store.
• Utilize a site such as the University of Creighton’s “Praying Advent” page for daily prayers and audio reflections.
• Don’t decorate your house or trim your tree until the week before Christmas and leave the decorations up throughout Christmas Time.
• Attend the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation, either at a parish reconciliation service or at your parish’s normal time.
• Find or download an album of Advent music (yes, they do exist!) to play during the season.

For the record: This year Advent begins on November 27. The Octave of the Nativity of the Lord begins on December 25 and ends on January 1 (the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God). Christmas Time begins the evening of December 25 24 and runs until January 8 (the Epiphany of the Lord) 9 (the Baptism of the Lord).

Have a very blessed Advent season. Come, Lord Jesus!

I spent the last two days conducting a retreat/workshop on social media for the principals of the Diocese of Belleville. For the opening prayer on Wednesday I decided to experiment with a variation of lectio divina that used the parable of the sower and the seed (Matthew 13:3-23) across various  media.

I began with reading the parable from Sacred Scripture, asking the participants to listen for a word or phrase that spoke to them. We meditated for a few minutes, then went around the room and shared our word or phrase.

Next I showed this video version of the parable:

I asked the participants to focus on a visual image from the video that spoke to them in a special way, or on how their understanding of the parable was deepened by the video. We again spent a few minutes in meditation and then shared.

Finally I played the song “Thistle & Weeds” by Mumford & Sons. (I also projected the lyrics so the group could follow along) and asked them to listen for God’s call or invitation to action. We again meditated on what we had heard and shared. We then closed with a short prayer.

I think this prayer experience was a success; the group seemed to appeciate the multi-sensory nature of the prayer and they did an excellent job of drawing out meaning from the text. (And most of them weren’t previosly familiar with lectio divina.) I will definitely be using this form of prayer for future events.

(I also put together a PowerPoint for praying the Angelus with the group; I’ve posted it on my Handouts page for anyone to use.)

This morning I am leading an opening prayer for a meeting. I had prepared a perfectly serviceable Liturgy of the Word for the Feast of St. Athanasius. However, given last night’s news on the killing of Osama bin Laden by U.S. military forces, I decided to go in a different direction.

Without getting into politics, praying for our enemies and for peace is one of Christ’s commands to us. In that spirit I have prepared a brief Liturgy of the Word for Peace. Feel free to copy and use it.

Tuesday’s webinar on Leading Prayer as a Catechist by Joe Paprocki (catechist extraordinaire and brother to my boss) was excellent. I was especially impressed with the section on extemporaneous (or spontaneous) prayer — something Catholics are not well known for.* Nevertheless, extemporaneous prayer need not be something to fear.

Joe gave a simple formula for extemporaneous prayer that anyone can use to come up with a quick prayer on the fly: You/Who/Do/Through. I’ve been using this method for years to great effect.

After remarking on the formula to some new principals yesterday, they asked if I would send out something they could use with teachers to help them when they have to come up with prayers on their own.

Here is the one-page Spontaneous Prayer Handout I came up with to share with them. Please feel free to copy it for use in your parishes and schools.

* My wife’s family once asked me to say grace before Thanksgiving dinner. Knowing they aren’t Catholic, I skipped the traditional grace before meals for a short spontaneous prayer. My wife’s aunt, a staunch Methodist, came up to me afterward and remarked, “I didn’t know Catholics could pray like that!”

This has hit home for me a few times in my life. A year after completing my graduate studies I found myself engaging in new types of prayer — particularly an increased use of the Rosary and a greater sense of efficacy in my silent prayer. At first I was uncertain why I was being drawn in this direction (beyond my generation’s general reappropriation of older faith practices). Eventually it dawned on me: while in college and graduate school I had used my studies as the foundation for my prayer life. Indeed, there is a long history in the Church of study as prayer (to such an extent that Dominican friars are excused from communal prayer if engaged in study). Following my master’s degree and subsequent exit from higher education, my prayer life dried up for about a year as I “re-learned” how to pray. Since I was no longer spending significant time immersed in the study of scripture, Church history, morality, and the like, my normal avenue for prayer had been cut off.

While this was undoubtedly painful, it also proved to be a great blessing as it opened me to new ways of prayer that I did not have the time or energy to devote to before.

Lately, after nearly a decade of fits and starts, I’ve gotten into a general rhythm of using the Liturgy of the Hours. I’m not as consistent as I would like, but most morning and many evenings I take 10-15 minutes to pray Lauds and Vespers. I’ve not yet gotten into the habit of adding Compline, but I am working towards it.

Nevertheless, and in spite of the inconsistent nature of its application, the effect has been profound: I’ve notice a real change in my temperament and attitude when I begin the day with Morning Prayer, and a stronger resistance to temptation when I’m consistent for several days in a row. In particular I find myself dealing with my children in a more patient manner — something, my wife likes to remind me, that I need to work on.

As before, I’m not sure why it is that, at this particular moment in my life, this type of prayer has suddenly “clicked.” But unlike before I haven’t lost the types of prayer that I relied on previously. I still pray the Rosary and still find comfort in silent prayer. What I am experiencing now is a wider embrace of prayer types, not a replacing of the old.

The Second Vatican Council teaches that “the laity, too, are encouraged to recite the divine office,” for “all who render this service are not only fulfilling a duty of the Church, but also are sharing in the greatest honor of Christ’s spouse, for by offering these praises to God they are standing before God’s throne in the name of the Church their Mother.” (Sacrosanctum concilium, n. 100, 85) I am still discovering just what this mean, but I am thankful that, at this time in my life, the Liturgy of the Hours has been such a source of strength and a means of increasing virtue in my life. I pray, too, that it will continue to do so as I continue to grow in love and knowledge of God.

I saw a man coming, as it were from Ireland. His name was Victoricus, and he carried many letters, and he gave me one of them. I read the heading: “The Voice of the Irish.” As I began the letter, I imagined in that moment that I heard the voice of those very people who were near the wood of Foclut, which is beside the western sea—and they cried out, as with one voice: “We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us.

Patrick, now a bishop, returned to Ireland where he baptized thousands, ordained native priests, and converted the sons of kings. He won over the people who had once enslaved him and is now the patron saint of the Emerald Isle.

Like the Irish of the 4th century, our diocese is waiting for a bishop who will “come and walk among us.” It has been extraordinarily heartening to see and hear of the many people around the diocese who are praying for our new bishop through intercessions, litanies and the Eucharist. Whoever he is, our new bishop has been cloaked in the prayers of the faithful and entrusted to the care of our Blessed Mother. And we pray that, like St. Patrick, he will teach us to walk in the joyful company of the Triune God.

Lord God,
you are our eternal shepherd and guide.
In your mercy grant your Church of Springfield in Illinois a shepherd
who will walk in your ways
and whose watchful care will bring us your blessing.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

A couple weeks ago a small group of our diocesan directors met to begin envisioning what that catechetical process will look like. During the course of the conversation, one thing became clear: in order to prepare people to pray the new translation in a meaningful, intelligible way, we need to be able to articulate why the Church is changing the words of the Eucharistic liturgy in a way they can understand and accept.

In other words, we need to find the marketable message for the changes.

I won’t claim that we came up with all the answers, but I think one of the priests at the table got us started the right path. He noted that, during the liturgical reforms following the Second Vatican Council, the message was that the laity will no longer be passive observers but will be called to “full, active participation” in the liturgy. For forty years this has been the mantra of liturgical catechesis, for better or worse. It was, in a sense, the “marketable message” on liturgy following the council.

He contrasted this with the new missal and translation which have shifted attention from the action of the congregation back to the object of worship: Jesus Christ. Without diminishing the importance of the council’s reforms or denigrating the progress made in liturgical theology, the heightened language of the new translation pulls us out of the mundane and reminds us that while we participate in the liturgy, the liturgy is not about us.

With that in mind, a useful way to enter a wider conversation about the new missal — and a way to point towards a “marketable message” — may be to pose the following three questions:

1. Who calls us to participate in the liturgy?
2. Why do we participate in the liturgy?
3. How then do we participate in the liturgy?

This series of questions begins with the invitation to worship, points to the object of our worship, and then asks if the manner of our worships honors that end. I’m not completely satisfied with the wording (I’m open to suggestions!) and obviously not everyone will agree on the answers to these questions — especially the third! But they at least focus the conversation in a constructive manner that can lead to further exploration about our theology of liturgy, why we have a shared liturgical practice in the Church, and why the changes make sense within that context.

And without resorting to, “Because the Vatican says so!”

Our Lady of Guadalupe,
we turn to you who are the protectress of unborn children
and ask that you intercede for us,
so that we may more firmly resolve to join you in protecting all human life.

Let our prayers be united to your perpetual motherly intercession
on behalf of those whose lives are threatened,
be they in the womb of their mother, on the bed of infirmity, or in the latter years of their life.

May our prayers also be coupled with peaceful action
which witnesses to the goodness and dignity of all human life,
so that our firmness of purpose may give courage to those who are fearful
and bring light to those who are blinded by sin.

Encourage those who will be involved in the March for Life;
help them to walk closely with God and to give voice to the cry of the oppressed,
in order to remind out nation of its commitment
to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for all people.

O Virgin Mother of God, present our petitions to your Son and ask Him to bless us with abundant life.

Amen.

Indeed we cannot have Jesus without Mary.

- Rev. F.H. Drinkwater, Catechism Stories Part I: the Creed (1939)