First Week of Advent: Conversion and Contrition

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins, and the grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, St. Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me. 

On this First Sunday of Advent, we enter into a special time of preparation. We know from experience how
much it helps us to prepare for important events. Just think of the world of movies. When a film studio wants to signal to the world that an important film will soon hit the screens, they begin to release a series
of teaser videos to increase our desire to see that movie. Their main message is, “Don’t miss it.”

Well, we find ourselves today with only four weeks to get ready for that central moment in history when God took on our flesh and began to walk among us. The last thing we want is to be tourists of the Nativity,
vaguely interested in the true meaning of Christmas, but distracted by shopping and parties. It can help us
to place ourselves with our imagination in Bethlehem 2000 years ago, and to try to imagine how we would
have responded to the sudden arrival of that young couple from Nazareth: Mary and Joseph. 

We see so many people wandering around downtown Bethlehem, totally unaware of the momentous event taking place in the nearby hillside. But all those people 2000 years ago had a good excuse. The small town of Bethlehem was teeming with visitors there for the census. Chaos, no doubt, reigned. We, on the other hand, we have no excuse, because we know what would soon take place there in that stable in the surrounding hillside. And so, it’s only logical that we desire deeply to use these four weeks to get ready.

Advent is a time for conversion. Let us not be content with mere tweaking, with a few small adjustments that really don’t make much of a difference in our resemblance to Jesus. During this season of Advent, let’s aim for the stars, for the kind of conversion that the Holy Spirit longs to bring about in our soul.

Speaking of transformation, you might be familiar with a classic work by Dietrich von Hildebrand, called Transformation in Christ. Here is a powerful story from the introduction, written by Dietrich’s widow, Alice. Quote, “We must have an unconditional readiness to change in order to be transformed in Christ,” end of quote. 

“These are the very first words I heard from Dietrich von Hildebrand, the man who was later to become my husband. His words were a revelation for me. Even though I had been raised a Catholic, I had never been concretely taught how to relate my beliefs to everyday life. There was something sadly lacking in my education. It is not enough for us to believe. We must know how to live our beliefs. Thanks to his lecture that day, I understood that my soul should become malleable, like wax in God’s hands, so that I could become what he wanted me to become, and what I was so far from being, that is, transformed in Christ.” 

Already from these brief sentences of Alice von Hildebrand, we see the impact that those words of Dietrich had on her, of the importance of undergoing such a conversion: that it reaches every aspect of our being, so that we never be content with simply being good on the surface, having our faith just reach certain pockets of our being. 

Well, Alice goes on to say the following powerful sentence, powerful thought, “I discovered that my own readiness to change was highly selective. For whereas I was willing to improve in some areas of my life, I wanted to remain in command, and to determine myself the scope and limits of my transformation. Rare are those, and they are properly known as saints, whose readiness to change is total, absolute, unconditional; and who let the Divine Master decide how deeply the marble is to be chiseled.” 

Well, it’s hard to imagine a more powerful, more graphic image of this process of our transformation, that we have to be like wax that is so malleable that the Holy Spirit can stamp on that wax whatever image he wants, and we know that it is the image of Jesus, that we are that block of marble that is potentially magnificent. We just have to think of Michelangelo’s La Pieta, but that needs work. And so, we just say to the Holy Spirit, to the Divine Master, “chisel away.” 

And Alice finishes by saying this absolute unconditional readiness to change ought to be the very basis of our spiritual life, so that we may become new men and women in Christ. What a marvelous way for us to live the season of Advent. To wrap up this final month of this year, and above all, to get ready for our eventual meeting with the very person whom we’re trying to imitate with Jesus Christ. 

We could refer to Advent as, “Four weeks to a new me.” That’s quite a challenge. But it all begins with our giving to the Holy Spirit free reign, carte blanche, to show us what we need to change in order to resemble more and more the Master. Well, how can we go about being more specific about some of the features of the Master? It’s one thing to say I want to be like Jesus, but we have to ask ourselves, what does that mean? 

Well, as you know from your reading of the Holy Father’s document, Gaudete et exsultate, Rejoice and Be Glad, at one moment in that document he offers a meditation on the Beatitudes. He refers to the Beatitudes as “the identity card of the Christian.” Take, for example, that Beatitude, “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.” Right there we have an aspect of this resemblance, this attitude of the Master that we have to come to, to take on, take upon ourselves. 

Speaking of meekness, the Holy Father says, “These are strong words, in a world that from the beginning has been a place of conflict, disputes, and enmity on all sides, where we constantly pigeonhole others on the basis of their ideas, their customs, even their way of dressing or speaking.” Well, each of us could tell stories about just looking back over the past few weeks, different situations where we have seen this kind of conflict of the tendency to pigeonhole people, of creating real walls. The pope says, “Ultimately it is the reign of pride and vanity, where each person thinks that he or she has the right to dominate others.” 

Nonetheless, impossible as it may seem, Jesus proposes a different way of doing things: the way of meekness. You recall that earlier in this document, the pope says, “Well, these words might come across as poetic, very nice sounding, but ultimately unrealistic. And we could end up thinking to ourselves, ‘But wait a minute. Nobody’s- no one is like that.’” But the pope is saying we have to learn how to go against the current, that these are very challenging words that have been spoken to us by the perfect human being, God made man. 

He goes on to say in no. 72 of this document, “Christ says, ‘Learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’ If we are constantly upset, and impatient with others, we will end up drained and weary. But if we regard the faults and limitations of others with tenderness and meekness, without an air of superiority, we can actually help them and stop wasting our energy on useless complaining. St. Therese of Lisieux tells us that ‘perfect charity consists in putting up with others’ mistakes and not being scandalized by their faults.’”

Well, right now we ask Our Lord to give us this grace, in the first place, to stop complaining ourselves, to stop wasting our energy on useless complaining. And above all, to free us of any tendency to have an air of superiority. In our process of seeking conversion, seeking purification, we want to be able to see better, to acquire a better vision, to be able to recognize what is of lasting value. 

There’s that wonderful phrase from Scripture, “Be still and see that I am God. Vacate et videte quoniam ego sum Deus.” Vacate, be still. Come to a screeching halt and see that I am God. That blessed silence that we’re appreciating right now during this time of prayer together. An important element in our quest for transformation is concentration, the capacity to focus on what is truly important and to turn a blind eye on the non-essential.

It is all too easy to forget that which is most fundamental in our existence, what our life here on earth is all about. One person put it in these very powerful words, “Some people squander away their lives in shallow pleasures. Others are so engrossed in their daily concerns, that though not leading an agreeable life at all, they simply find no time to stop and think. The complete enslavement of their attention to the practical task immediately ahead, deprives them of any leisure, for feeling their lack of peace, like beasts of burden, they tread along their path in dull monotony without ever becoming sufficiently awake to feel distressed by the meaninglessness of their lives.” 

Well, who wants to be a beast of burden treading along day after day without stopping to ask ourselves, “But wait a minute, what is it that I really, really want more than anything?” A very obvious resolution is to continue doing that which we’re doing right now, which is to come to a halt, to turn to the Lord in the quiet of our prayer, in order to learn what is important to him. That is the antidote to dispersion. That is the path to contemplation. 

And so, we ask him right now in our prayer, “Lord, of all the different things dancing in my head, or perhaps weighing down on me, which of those things are important to you, and which of those things have zero importance?” No one can teach us to do this more effectively than our Blessed Mother. We just picture her during those four weeks of preparation for the birth of her child, hour after hour of speaking to her unborn child, singing to him, lovingly preparing his tiny wardrobe.

Nothing, but nothing could distract her from that all important task. We ask Mary to lead us by the hand in our own quest for contemplation. But that raises a question, “What is it that can hinder our ability to focus?” You might be aware of the phenomenon called FOMO. F-O-M-O, which stands for fear of missing out. FOMO has been defined as, “Anxiety that an exciting or interesting event may currently be happening
elsewhere, often provoked by posts seen on a social media website.” Well, FOMO can surreptitiously prevent us from giving all our attention to the task that is immediately in front of us. Since we might be gripped by the thought that we are missing out on something more fun or exciting somewhere else. Lord, liberate us from FOMO. Liberate us also from a kindred danger that is of much more recent vintage, which is FOBO. F-O-B-O, or “fear of a better option.” 

FOBO leads people to refrain from committing to something worthwhile for fear of missing out on a better option. A FOBOite will want to keep all options open just in case something better comes along. We ask the Lord to liberate us from the slightest tendency to drift into these two enemies of concentration and contemplation. Let’s face it, the fact that we are here spending time during this meditation is a clear sign that we want to be here and not elsewhere. And that we are convinced that we have chosen the very best option, to speak with the Lord as we do every day. 

And yet, therein lies a possible resolution. Lord, I hereby declare, solemnly, that I am convinced that the very best option I can have is to spend time with you every day. So, I hereby commit to that. I don’t care if I’m tempted sometimes to think, “But if I set aside this time for meditation, I might be missing out on something else, somewhere else, who knows where.” I don’t care because I know by definition I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the best thing. 

There is a final element that can help us in our quest for conversion during the coming weeks, and that element is contrition. At the risk of offering some thoughts that are a little bit dense, it’s worth taking that risk because these are very powerful thoughts. Contrition arouses us from the sleep of unspiritual existence, from what might be called a mere living away. Contrition awakens us to a keen consciousness of the things that ultimately matter: the importance of our earthly life for our eternal destiny.

Can contrition cause us to withdraw from our peripheral interests and to concentrate on the depths? Well, concentrating on the depths is exactly what we’re talking about, this effort to become contemplatives in whatever we’re doing. Contrition imparts to the soul a unique beauty. For it is in contrition that this attitude of a humble and reverent charity becomes dominant and manifest. It is in contrition that we abandon the fortress of pride and self-sovereignty, that we leave the dreamland of levity and complacency, and we face God in reality. 

That is why contrition is such a beautiful thing, a beautiful act, to say to God, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry that I did not focus on the things that really mean a lot to you.” Way back in 1980, in preparation for Christmas, St. John Paul II visited a Roman parish and he met with over 2000 young people with children. And he began his catechesis by saying, “How are you preparing for Christmas?” And all of them shouted back, “By praying.” The pope said, “Very good, by praying.” And then he added, “But also by going to confession. Would you do that?” And then those 2000 children replied, “We will.” And then the pope said, “Yes, that’s great.” And lowering his voice, he whispered, “The pope will also go to confession so as to receive the Christ child worthily.”

What a beautiful description of contrition: getting on our knees in sacramental confession and saying, “I have sinned against you. Forgive me.” And the Lord, of course, forgives us and restores us, remakes us time after time. During these very special weeks of Advent, we can ask Our Lady for growth in contemplative spirit because that is the goal of this time of conversion. It is contemplative spirit that allows us to see everything from God’s point of view. 

Just think of Mary and Joseph, powered by contemplative spirit. They were filled with joy despite that long, difficult voyage to Bethlehem that awaited them. We can finish with a story that illustrates this supernatural vision of things that comes with a life of contemplation. The story involves Mrs. Jones, a 92-year-old petite lady, with her hair fashionably quaffed, makeup perfectly applied. 

Even though she is legally blind. Mrs. Jones moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 70 years had recently passed away, making the move necessary. After hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, Mrs. Jones smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room. “I love it,” she stated with enthusiasm. “Mrs. Jones, you haven’t seen the room. Just wait.” “That has nothing to do with it,” she replied. Mrs. Jones went on to explain, “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not does not depend on how the furniture is arranged. It’s how I arrange my mind. I have already decided to love it. It is a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice. I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or I can get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift. And as long as my eyes open, I will focus on the new day.” 

We ask Our Lady to help us to acquire that very same attitude and very same sporting spirit, very loving spirit. So that we decide freely and lovingly to find the Lord in everything we do, to find him because we are actively focused on seeking him in every single thing we do.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations which you have communicated to me in this meditation. I ask your help to put them into effect. My Immaculate Mother, St. Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.