Shorelines of the Spirit

A Change of Color As a kid, I always looked forward to this Third Sunday of Advent.  The Mass vestments would change from the darker violet hues of the season to a cheerful, rosy pink,  the pink candle on the Advent wreath would be lit,   and I knew it was a sign that Christmas was getting closer.  Was this a spiritual insight?   Perhaps a little bit -- most Catholic children knew that Advent would lead us into Christmas and the celebration of Jesus' birth.  Of course, that also meant that school would close for a while,  that we'd be decorating the tree,  that there would be gifts, festive meals,  and some leisurely fun activities.  Even those traditional pickled herring that we ate in our house every New Year's Eve counted as something to be anticipated with delight.    The rose-colored vestments were a sign that all of this was getting closer.  So  the spiritual meaning of the color change was accompanied by lots of seemingly less-spiritual anticipation. It'

A Beauty in Darkness Advent....we're into the second week and our monastery church reflects the season.  In addition to stained-glass windows,  we also have a lot of clear glass,  and so bare outlines of tree branches,  the steady and faithful color of the evergreens,  and the early darkness before Vespers all greet us as we enter this sacred space.  The movement of the sanctuary light flickering  over the tabernacle provides a sense of comfort and warm presence on  dark and chilly evenings. So often we tend to think of darkness as negative and forbidding,  but it also provides a sense of quiet,  calm, rest, and healing.  Stars that disappeared at dawn return as the sun sets;  a bright, crisp moon makes itself known. During this short but lovely liturgical season,  we listen to readings that promise the coming of God's light and life and love.  The promise is made to us as a people -- but the intimacy of darkness reminds us that the promise is also made to us as individ