7. First Saturday of Advent
Meditations no. 7 (unofficial computer-aided translation)
Our Lord comes determined to seek us out, after we were lost. The response required of us.
Only a little while now, a very little while, and the One that is coming will have come. Jesus is coming down to earth to pardon and save us. What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost, until he finds it? The Good Shepherd is coming to seek what had been lost. Once again he is returning with infinite love and patience to sanctity us and confirm us in our vocation.
How often we have separated ourselves from God! How often we have failed to hear his voice - the voice of the one who heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of the stars, he gives to all of them their names.
God is determined that we should be holy and is intent on seeking us out. He hastens in search of the hundredth sheep, St Bernard tells us, the one that has been lost … What wonderful condescension on God’s part to seek men in this way. How great the dignity of man whom God seeks out in such a manner. We too must hasten to meet him, ready to start again and to respond to his never-failing Love. A day of salvation has arrived for us. Once again we can hear the whistling of the divine shepherd, his affectionate call: vocavi te nomine tuo (I have called you by name). Like our mother, he calls us by our name, even by our affectionate family nickname. There in the very depths of our soul he calls, and we must answer: Ecce ego quia vocasti me. (Here I am, for you called me. ) Here I am, determined on this occasion not to let time pass like water over the rocks, without leaving a trace.
This Advent will leave a mark on our souls if we decide to respond faithfully to the grace for interior renewal which is so much a part of this liturgical season. Our Father tells us that what we have to try to do is to get to heaven. If we don’t, nothing is worthwhile. To reach heaven, faithfulness to Christ’s teaching is absolutely essential. And to be faithful, we must strive doggedly against whatever blocks our way to eternal happiness.
I know that the moment we talk about fighting we recall our weakness and we foresee falls and mistakes. God takes this into account. As we walk along, we will inevitably raise dust on our way; we are creatures and full of defects. I would say that they need to be there: they are the shadow which, in our soul, helps to highlight, by contrast, God’s grace and our resolve to respond to God’s kindness. And this contrast of light and darkness will make us human, humble, understanding and generous.
Our response should be to begin over and over again; not in a vague manner, but in the main points of our interior struggle, enthusiastically.
Let’s not deceive ourselves: in our life we will encounter excitement and victory along with deprivation and defeat. Such has always been the earthly pilgrimage of Christians, even of those we venerate on the altars. Don’t you remember Peter, Augustine, Francis? I have never liked biographies of saints which naively - but also with a lack of sound doctrine - present their deeds as if they had been confirmed in grace from birth. No. The true life stories of Christian heroes resemble our own experience: they fought and won; they fought and lost. And then, repentant, they returned to the fray.
To find Jesus, we have to keep starting over and over again. We need to be continually engaged in a struggle to improve. To stand still is to fall back. I am still running, says St Augustine, I am still advancing. I am still walking. I am still on the way. I am still exerting myself. I have not yet arrived. In the same way, if you are walking, if you are exerting yourself, if you are thinking of the future, then forget the past, do not glance back, or you may remain at the spot where you turned to look back. If you say, “Enough,” you are lost.
We can always advance. We can always improve: in our contemplative life, in our spirit of sacrifice, in the way we work, in our concern for souls, in our apostolate. And not in some vague way, but in quite definite points, namely those suggested in our talk with the Director or those related to our particular examination of conscience. Making our struggle definite in this way helps our prayer of petition, and means that we avoid adopting a “passive” approach to the spiritual life. Without becoming impatient or nervous, our aim should be, with God’s grace, to speed up our progress by working away at the same points of struggle and not allowing ourselves to become discouraged.
We don’t wait for the New Year to make resolutions. Every day is a good day for good decisions. Those who wait for the New Year before they start again are defeatists. Our constant starting again constitutes a true ascetical struggle, which has to be undertaken and continued each day with optimism and enthusiasm. We need supernatural enthusiasm, which does not always show externally, since it is compatible with weariness and sorrow. This kind of enthusiasm is forged from our good intentions, from our fortitude, and from the knowledge that God loves us and seeks us out.
A sure way to advance: trusting God more, and trusting ourselves less. Looking after the particular examination.
Rectify. A little each day. This must be your constant task, if you really want to become a saint.
We should keep starting again joyfully, in spite of our weakness, and even because of it. Placing our trust in God, we will say, along with the Apostle: When I am weak, then I am strong. We stumble because we are weak, but when we recognize it for what it is, this very weakness attracts God’s strength. He who is Lord of the armies directs the battle. St Gregory points out that an officer on the battlefield has more respect for the soldier who, after having fled, returns and attacks the enemy courageously, than for the soldier who has never turned his back, but who has never performed an act of bravery. It is not the person who never falls who becomes a saint, for no such person exists; it is the one who always gets up after falling. The danger is not in having defects, but rather in becoming content to live with them and not fighting against them.
In this adventure of love we should not be depressed by our falls, not even by serious falls, if we go to God in the sacrament of Penance contrite and resolved to improve. A Christian is not a neurotic collector of good behaviour reports. Jesus Christ our Lord was moved as much by Peter’s repentance after his fall as by John’s innocence and faithfulness. Jesus understands our weakness and draws us to himself up an inclined plane. He wants us to make an effort to climb a little each day. He seeks us out, just as he did the disciples of Emmaus, whom he went out to meet. He sought Thomas, showed himself to him and made him touch with his fingers the open wounds in his hands and side. Jesus Christ is always waiting for us to return to him; he knows our weakness.
Let us acknowledge our faults, and humble ourselves before God. He is pleased when he sees us turn and ask for his forgiveness and help. God our Father, you loved the world so much that you gave your only Son to free us from the ancient power of sin and death. Help us who wait for his coming, and lead us to true freedom. We should pray, and learn to trust more in God and less in ourselves. Therein lies, in large part, the secret of sanctity.
But there is something else we need to do, which is to make proper use of the means for our ascetical struggle. Specifically we have a weapon of attack, the particular examination, which enables us to rectify our course each day, and so make spiritual progress.
In this continuous task of renewal, we seek the support of our holy Mother Mary. Through Mary, your Mother, have recourse to the merciful love of Jesus. Say a miserere - “have mercy on me” - and lift up your heart! And now, begin again.