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Awake and not at peace

December 3 2017 First Sunday of Advent Cycle B. St James Church in St Andrews, Fife

My earliest memories of Church liturgy are of the early days in response to Vatican II. I still had some of the classic moments of a Catholic upbringing. For instance I can remember being eight years old and cycling my bike over to the Parish Church in Cabinteely every morning for a week when it was my duty to serve the early mass. A lot of basic knowledge was lost though, such as a real awareness of the liturgical year. It is only in later years that I've settled into the rhythm and think of this as the beginning of the year. This makes three new years for me; the calendar year, the university year and the liturgical. St Pauls Church in Cambridge Mass. did advent best of any churches I've attended, but I think that is really because they had a really fabulous Advent wreath, made from ivy and moss, that hung horizontally in the middle of the nave. In the half light with the multi-coloured candles lit  the Church looked wonderful. Most churches make do with a brass candle-holder in front of the pulpit.

Advent is tricky. Chocolate advent calendars don't really communicate spiritual yearning, more sugar-fueled mounting near hysterical excitement. The Eliot "Journey of the Magi" expresses Advent best for me "A cold coming we had of it/ Just the worst time of year" and the best bit is the banality of difficult travel with unhelpful people at the wrong time of the year.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
and running away, and wanting their liquor and women,And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendlyAnd the villages dirty and charging high prices:A hard time we had of it.At the end we preferred to travel all night,Sleeping in snatches,With the voices singing in our ears, sayingThat this was all folly.
Patrick Kavanagh's "Advent" has the same structure of movement toward the revelation, but Eliot's travellers are old and grumpy, so more like me, while Kavanagh's become children, which is less interesting. If I am to be a fool for Christ I'd like to be an old fool.









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