This is “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” – or so Andy Williams would have us believe. Indeed, the air around us as we shop is filled with varied songs that say – more or less – the same thing, as they beckon us to open our hearts (and our credit cards) to the season. We are urged not to be like old Scrooge before he met those spirits of Christmas, but to be generous and give.
Not every one of us is in a position to give – or to give as much as we would like. For too many of us, the old Merle Haggard song “If We Make It Through December” comes far closer to our own reality. We’d like to be incredibly generous to all those we love in every way we can. But we can’t always be that generous financially. We begin to feel inadequate. This is one of the unintended pains of Advent.
But there are more.
The liturgical “air” is filled with the promises of the Lord – swords beaten into plowshares, the lion lying down with the lamb, no harm to anyone on God’s holy mountain. We hear of the mercy of God, offered to all who will trust God and accept this gift. We hear of the promise of Emmanuel, God truly with us. Sometimes these promises rekindle our hope and help us look forward with expectancy, not unlike children waiting for Christmas Eve.
But not always.
These same promises can remind us of how far we are from believing them and living them. But, more significantly, we have difficulty believing them because our lived reality seems to contradict these promises. We still await the complete fulfillment of these promises, for one thing. However, our difficulty often lies more with some of the people who have become the face of Christianity for us.
What do I mean?
If you listen to stories of people who are strong in faith, very often they will tell you of others in their lives who taught them, by word and example, what being a follower of Jesus was all about. It’s hard for us to visualize the Church as a whole. But some people become for us the face of the Church. When this face seems to be in harmony with Jesus’ own life and teachings, as well as the teachings of the Church, our own faith grows and deepens. The promises of this Advent season only intensify our joy and hope.
Similarly, if you listen to stories of people who say that they are atheists or agnostics, very often they will tell you of others who were controlling or abusive, and who used religion to justify their words and actions. The face of the Church that these people saw was not in harmony with Jesus’ life and teachings, nor with the teachings of the Church. This contradiction, this cognitive dissonance, often turns people off to Christian faith, and indeed all religion. Even if some people who see such a poor face of the Church don’t reject Christian faith, they become disillusioned. The promises of Advent only intensify their pain. Things are not as they could or should be.
The truth is that everyone, whether they are in or out of the Church, can see both the joys and the pains of Advent. Everyone can see good and not-so-good faces of the Church.
I am no exception.
On the one hand, I have had the grace to know many people – personally as well as through reading – who have been and remain wonderful examples and witnesses of what it means to be in Christ. I have found many mentors over the years who have helped me discern my own calling and grow in faith.
On the other hand, I have seen less helpful faces of the Church. When my parents first tried to enroll me in a Catholic school, they were told that there was no room for me. Years later, they found out that the real reason was that they were not in the right clique. A Catholic school in a nearby parish accepted me immediately. A more recent example: after I chose to trust the Lord and accept my call-within-a call as a hermit as well as a priest, not everyone, it seems, rejoiced in it. I was told that one major diocesan donor wondered why I was getting a salary from the diocese. No doubt, each and every one of you could tell similar stories.
If we find ourselves haunted during Advent and Christmas by faces of the Church that seem less than adequate, where do we go? What do we do?
Here’s one possible approach. Think of the Church as a mosaic. Every face of the Church that you and I see is only one piece of the mosaic. When we begin to add more pieces to it – more people, past and present, saints and sinners; a deeper understanding of Scripture and Tradition – we begin to see the true face of Christ emerge. No one piece of the mosaic can show it all. Some pieces don’t seem to show it well at all – but they can still be worked on. God isn’t finished with them yet. Ultimately, the face we really seek is the face of Christ. He is the One who calls to us, who offers us forgiveness and healing, and brings us home. Seek the true face of Christ. Realize that some of the poorer faces you have seen were just that – imperfect models, still needing more work. Look to the saints of past and present. Look to the Scriptures and the teachings of the Church that flow from them. The true face of Christ will emerge, once again. Christ is our hope and strength. Christ is the One we await during Advent; the One whose birth we celebrate at Christmas. May Christ’s face shine brightly before each one of us, in us and through us!