By Father Lawrence Swartz

There are events, occurrences and things that know no monotony.

Does one ever hear a complaint that spring with its balmy weather and warm mellow sun arrived again? Do we see a person indulge in self-pity because the tulips, daisies or roses are displaying their God-given loveliness?

The liturgical season of Advent has a thrill all its own that knows no monotony. No sooner does the Church's liturgical year roll to the end (the day before the first Sunday of Advent) than Mother Church orders for over a thousandth time: "It was beautiful. Let's go through it all once again."

So on the first Sunday of Advent we begin the Church's New Year. Once again, we are to pass in revue, as it were, our incomprehensible riches in Christ and the Church's unspeakable treasures bestowed upon her by this same Christ.

In the course of the ecclesiastical year, there will be the stupendous mystery of the Incarnation (God assuming our human nature to contemplate at Christmas. "God so loved the world that He sent His Only Begotten Son."

Then there will be Palm Sunday, Holy Week. There will be a Good Friday; "He loved me and gave Himself up for me." Of course, there will also be a Happy Easter, the apex of the liturgical year.

Frank Sheed, a famous Catholic writer and scholar, said that we cannot attain a maximum love of God with a minimum knowledge of Him. Philosophy tells us that we cannot love what we do not know. This is precisely what the sacred liturgy should effect in us; namely, it should increase out knowledge and love of God, for many of the mysteries that are to unfold before us in the course of the liturgical year are of great solemnity and should be the source of spiritual reflection and nourishment for our souls.

The origin of Advent dates back to some time after the fifth century, and is venerable by reason of its antiquity and the mysteries it commemorates, which are three in number, the liturgists tell us. The first of these is His first coming long ago in Palestine, at the first Christmas at Bethlehem. The second is His coming to the individual soul by sanctifying grace. The third will be His last coming as Judge at the end of time. Here we will limit ourselves to His first coming at Christmas.

Someone not familiar with the practice of the Church in reliving past events may be puzzled in reading some parts of the breviary. For example, the Advent breviary was replete with prayers and supplications in words such as: "Come and save us," and "Come, Lord, and do not delay," entreaties that the Saviour Who has been with us 2,000 years would hurry and come. At least this was true of the pre-Vatican II breviary.

Needless to say, the liturgy is not an empty show, but is trying to tell us something. This something, I think, could be summed up in the words of St. Bernard, who said that he could blush for shame when he called to mind the fervid prayers and supplications of the Patriarchs and Prophets of old that the Messiah would come and, on the other hand, the indifference of so many now that He has come. Therefore, it seems that one of the fruits from the observance of this sacred season should be to place before our mind the fact that Christ is at the center of the Advent and Christmas mysteries.

Because Jesus Christ was upon the earth, all good things come to us through Him. If there is anything of hope, of grace, it is because of him. We do well to stress that Christ was human. But a person's devotion is also increased by recalling the words of St. Paul that "in Him were created all things." Thrones, dominations, sovereignties, powers, all things were created through Him and for Him. He is God coming in our human nature halfway to meet us, God become our Brother and Friend and our Lover. The endearing titles we rightly give to Our Lady apply preeminently to Christ. He is the refuge of sinners, the comfort of the afflicted.

Because Jesus Christ was upon this earth, the words "God so loved the world that He gave His Only Begotten Son" became concrete. In the Incarnation of the Second Person of the Holy Trinity the manifestation of God's love for man is so immense that four centuries were to elapse before the Church was able to formulate in rational terms the belief handed down from the beginning. We must guard jealously the fact that only the Second Person of the Holy Trinity became Incarnate, yet it is no less the work of the First and Third Person as of the Second. Therefore, if we were to betake ourselves to Bethlehem with the shepherds at the first Christmas night and gaze upon the Babe in the manger, it would be absolutely as true to say, "Behold how the Father, or how the Holy Spirit loved me," as "Behold how the Son loved me."

Because Jesus Christ was upon this earth, we know that God is so Christ-like. No, the words need not be inverted. For if the Father had become Incarnate, which was not impossible, He would have acted and spoken just as Christ acted and spoke. He would have fed the five thousand in the desert as Christ did. He would have cured the lame, the sick and the blind. He would have cured lepers just a Christ did by His gentle touch. From His paternal heart would have proceeded the parables of the prodigal son and of the lost sheep. He would have absolved Magdalen and the woman taken in adultery, for Christ said: "Whoever sees Me sees the Father also."

Because Jesus Christ was upon this earth, we have a confessional in our churches where the sin too great to be forgiven is yet to be committed. It is because of Christ that we have an altar where anyone who has a spark of divine love and faith in the heart will find it a daily privilege to offer an adequate worship to God in the Holy Sacrifice and to receive a friendly visit from our Savior and Judge. The Mass is "a masterpiece of the omnipotence of God" said St. John Eudes. And remember this: since Christ withdrew His physical presence from us, the Eucharist is the highest visible expression of God's love for the human race existing upon this earth today.

To come to us in our human flesh, the Lord deigned to make use of one of His creatures, Mary. Was she free to decline the honor of being the Mother of the Messiah? Had she refused, would we have had Jesus and all the good things He brought us? Yet, some wonder why we pay her a heed of praise and of gratitude. Who better than she, of all creatures, can obtain for us an insight into the stupendous mystery of the Incarnation and her faith and love of the first Christmas? Come December 25, may we have a Mary's Christmas of joy and peace.

(Former Lawrence Swartz is a member of the Trappist Monastery of the Holy Spirit.)