Blessed New Year to all! Today is the first day of Advent, the first day of the new liturgical year. I love to consider that in all matters liturgical and spiritual, we celebrate the beginning of the new year in Christ, on this first Sunday of Advent.
I so need a fresh start, a surge of reassurance from the Lord, the loving embrace of Christ and all in His Body, as we await the celebration of His first coming. And this is the topic of a commentary of some Advent sermons by St. Bernard of Clairvaux, written some 800 years ago. St. Bernard describes the first coming of Christ, His birth and years on earth, and His death on the cross, resurrection, and ascension.
Christ's first coming was to save us from our sins, to teach us the path of righteousness, to love, to repent and forgiveness of sins. His final coming will be to take us with Him. Then St. Bernard mentions an additional coming, a coming between the first and last; this coming is one in which He is not seen, as He was first seen and lived on earth and as He will be seen when He returns for us.
As St. Bernard explains further, of Christ's coming a third time, between His life on earth and His final return for us:
"But the one that comes between them is secret; it is that in which the elect alone see the Savior within themselves and their souls find salvation.
"In his first coming, Christ came in our flesh and in our weakness; in his coming in the midst of time, he comes in Spirit and power; in his final coming, he will come in his glory and majesty. But it is by the strength of the virtues that we attain to glory, as it is written: 'That I may see your power and your glory' (Ps 63[62]:3). And so the second coming is like a road leading from the first to the last. In the first, Christ has been our redemption; in the last, he will appear as our life; in his coming between, he is our rest and our consolation."
That Jesus is our rest and consolation, right now, means ever so much to me! The struggle with greater suffering, consistently, than ever, continues to be an immense challenge. The worst time is upon waking, as I did yet again early morning, after five hours of sleep. The body is stripped of pain aid; it takes an hour or more for oral medication to help reduce what seems too much for me to bear.
It is in that hour or more, that my intellect and will must wage battle against despairing thoughts from the memory, images/imagination, emotions, and physical senses. I get up to retrieve a cup of hot beverage--usually coffee--as hot liquid helps the medication get into the system; yet it still takes ever a long time when pain is involved. I read the Mass Scriptures for today, and I will myself to pray for various others while waiting.
This morning, again, I thought of the documentary I watched of the hermit monks and priests on Mt. Athos. They are there now, these hermits and religious monks. One of them commented in the documentary--living along in his hermit hut and carving wood religious objects--that a hermit must keep custody over thoughts in order to endure and avoid depression.
Living in silence of solitude is not easy no matter how old the hermit or how long one has lived the hermit vocation. Situations arise that make the spiritual life more challenging for anyone; and suffering pain and illness certainly make solitary life difficult. There is not the extent of manual labor that can help distract or provide relief. Pain fatigues; pain makes functioning difficult; pain vies for space in the mind, and reading becomes a chore in comprehension.
Yet always the Lord reaches in at the moment we seem to need Him most. I had an unexpected text message in the early morning from one of the adult children, answering a comment, not even a question, I'd spontaneously texted yesterday. Then came another text from another of the adult children, giving me a couple better ideas for gifts for grandchild. All seemed so silly, now simplified; I realized not having the nausea added to the pain, thus far today, makes such matters light and even laughable.
Then with the medication finally taking effect, sleep mercifully gave another four hours of rest and a dream also reminding me of some other concern and putting that concern in gentle, even light-hearted loving, dispensation.
Snow sifts from the white-gray sky; the tiny pond's surface frozen and blanketed. Reading the commentary, a conjoining of thoughts from two of his Advent sermons, soothes while awaiting, again, some pain relief from second dose of medication of this First Sunday of Advent. I especially love the reality of Christ's third coming--or in between coming--in which we find Him always with us, unseen but present: His Real Presence in our hearts as we also abide in His Heart.
Today, December 1, is also the commemoration of Bl. Charles de Foucald of Jesus, hermit and martyr. He was shot on this day in his hermitage in the Sahara by Muslim insurgents who thought he was somehow trafficking guns for the French soldiers fighting in the Saharan desert, 1916, during World War I. On this day, 103 years ago, Bl. Charles of Jesus had been forewarned of his death by the Holy Spirit of His Real Presence, in the silence of solitude.
Christ was always present in Bl. Charles, and Charles knew the Lord in hidden reality, abiding within day and night. I know this reality, as well, even if the level of pain and suffering can cause distraction of a depleting form; despair can threaten faith as well as strength of will and intellect with which we are to keep custody over dark thoughts.
The Second Reading of Mass, this First Sunday of Advent, in this first day of a new Church year, attests to the armor of God and of the light of Christ's coming, of His Real Presence with us, in us. "Throw off the works of darkness, put on the armor of light" (Rm 13: 13). "Put on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Rm 13: 14a).
And in the Gospel of St, Matthew, 27:44, Christ's Living Word (always present for us in our earthly lives) exhorts us. " So too, you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come."
I shall get up and dress, then light a candle of whatever color of candles unpacked, if purple or lavender so much the more delightful. I will see how the lumbar pain manages, if the arachnoiditis not provoking nausea, and then use up some pumpkin puree in whatever baked effort. Then, at some point today, will also strive to make the cauliflower chickpea soup, of which an adult child member so thoughtfully sent the recipe; I have all the ingredients on hand.
This consecrated Catholic hermit must keep going, simply keep going. Praise God for all the many blessings, the warm hermitage Solus Deus, the solemnly serene, snow-silent view out the back, provisions to create simple yet healthy food for the next few days, perhaps a bundling up and going out for a walk if sidewalks not slick. Otherwise, up and down the stairs for exercise, and using the stretch bands for upper back muscles.
I cannot give up until the Lord makes it clear in His Real Presence in life situation, to relinquish physical efforts necessary to simply keep going physically and spiritually. With Christ in us, we are assured that nothing must hinder our spiritual efforts. Simply keep going. God is always with us, and we can always be in Him in the silence and unseen faith of His Real Presence, until He comes and is visible to us, taking us with Him at the end of our earthly sojourn.
God bless His Real Presence in us!
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