11/29/15

Today is the first day of Advent, the beginning of the Church's liturgical calendar, a time when we're encouraged to reflect on the coming of Christ. Fr. Michael likens the liturgical calendar to a time machine. It's a time when we paradoxically go forward and yet backward in time, allowing us to always be on the threshold of a new beginning, allowing us to do things differently, better. Fr. Michael, quoting Sherman the Robot quoting Winston Churchill at the end of the sci-fi film Millennium during last week's homily, "This is not the end. This is not the beginning of the end. It is the end of the beginning."

I like that idea of time and, by extension, our lives as a cycle. I've always appreciated Buddhist cosmology for that reason. Instead of approaching life as something we have to get right on the first try, it allows us to make mistakes and learn from them, to evolve and grow through this existential, dialectic process of birth and death, which takes place from moment to moment as well as over multiple lifetimes. This cycle is not only evident in the liturgical year, but it's present in the Eucharist, which connects past, present, and future every time we come together in communion, uniting the Church in eternity.

This week, I was asked to light the Advent candle at the beginning of mass while Fr. Bill offered a special prayer in place of the usual penitential rite. The day's readings were about remaining spiritually vigilant, not allowing the stresses of daily life to push God out of our minds, even when the world is in turmoil. Our thoughts should always abide in the love of God, and our actions should always arise out of that love. In his homily, Fr. Bill talked about inscribing the doors of our church and our homes with the phrase, Domus Dei et Porta Coeli, "House of God and Gateway to Heaven," reminding us to be mindful of how God touches us through the people around us and the experiences we share.

After mass, I helped Fr. Bill carry some chairs from the church over to the rectory, and then helped set up the dining room for a dinner he's hosting for some friends. I moved a bunch of stuff, mopped, and set up about 16 places. While I was over there, I snuck a peek at the beautiful wooden altar in their chapel, which Fr. Michael once mentioned was hand carved by a German Paulist priest while being sheltered from internment during WWI or WWII.

The more time I spend at church and with spiritual people like Fr. Michael and Fr. Bill, the more drawn I am towards religious life. I don't know if I'm being called to become a brother or priest or simply to draw closer to a more spiritual lifestyle in lay-life, but the pull is strong either way. I definitely want to deepen my prayer life, to more readily recognize the spirit of God within and unveil the fuller meaning of my life, whatever that meaning and purpose might be. In some ways, it feels like I'm near the 'end of the beginning' of my own life, which is exciting and nerve-racking at the same time.