ADVENT
Fr. Mervyn Carapiet
Advent and Christmastide have a warmth and beauty about it all of it’s own. The drama set before us in the liturgy is, of course, the greatest story ever told: the virginal conception, the speechlessness of Zechariah, the birth of John the Baptist, the shepherds in the field, the three wise men, the escape to Egypt, the slaughter of the innocents, the prophets Simeon and Anna, and the rich and profound proclamations, the Benedictus and Magnificat. The whole story is ever new and ever fresh – as fresh as the Babe on whom it is centred.
What made our earliest, childhood Christmases so special was the sense of expectation and anticipation that began when the calendar switched to the 12th month and built up slowly and surely over the coming weeks until the festal day itself. There were many signs that drew us on this time-journey: the Christmas trees piled up on in the markets, even overflowing the pavements, the fairy lights in shop windows, the toy shops displays, tiny tin pot kiosks touting “Xmas Cakes”, the coming of the school holidays, the sending and receiving of cards, the smells and baking of cakes, puddings, and roasts, the ever imaginative designing of cribs, the Christmas-eve confession and so much more. And now-a-days the festive season sales of “up to 50% discount (‘conditions apply’)!” Every sense was stimulated in some way and we all carry with us sights, smells and sounds that remind us of those hearty Christmases.
The season of Advent parallels this anticipation and expectation in liturgical terms. The beauty and holiness of the season which we have entered is captured eloquently by Shakespeare’s Hamlet: “Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes, wherein our Saviour’s birth is celebrated, the bird of dawning singeth all night long; and then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad: the nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, no fairy takes, nor witch has power to charm; so hallow’d and so gracious is the time.”
Once again, we have entered a hallowed and sacred time. Has the season become so secularized and commercial that we have lost sight of what the Catechism of the Catholic tells us? “When the Church celebrates the liturgy of Advent each year, she makes present this ancient expectancy of the Messiah, for by sharing in the long preparation for the Saviour’s first coming, the faithful renew their ardent desire for his second coming” (no. 524). The Sundays of Advent, together with the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, are designed to help us reflect on the coming of Christ into our world, on his continuous coming into our lives every day and on his final coming when we look forward to sharing his life in glory.  We will prefer to let the accidental trash of life be consumed by suffering in order that his glory may come out clean in everything we do.
It makes great sense to stay watchful and alert, not allowing ourselves to feel that we live in a settled situation, but, rather, to read the signs of the times, make use of the opportunities, and place our talents for the building of the “new earth and new heaven.” For sure, life has a frenetic pace about it, and Christmas seems to highlight this more than any other time of the year.
We are either preparing to meet Jesus Christ or we are not – there is no middle path.  Our faith enables us to believe that his day is this day, this very hour, for the Lord keeps coming – in the sacraments, surely, but also in people, in our daily tasks, in the challenges of today’s world. In his 1st. letter to the Thessalonians, St. Paul emphasises the very point – “stay awake, praying at all times for the strength to…stand with confidence before the Son of Man.” It is a confidence that comes from following Christ’s example of prayer and active good living. Advent, therefore, is a good time for each of us to re-focus on these two essentials of Christian living – prayer and good works. There are so many short and powerful prayers waiting to be prayed, there are so many acts of kindness and helpfulness waiting to be done. In fact, it’s all about waiting, but a busier and more fruitful waiting than maybe we were used to.
Fr. Mervyn Carapiet,
St. Thomas’ Church,
9/3, Middleton Row,
Kolkata 700 071.

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT   Cycle “C”
Luke 21, 25-36
A story is told of a photographer taking a picture. He says to the lady, “Smile pretty for the camera.” After the shot, he tells her, “OK, Madame, you can resume your usual face.” My dear friends, whether you and I will have a successful Advent the next four weeks will depend on the attitude or face we bring to it today. Our faces must be fresh and alert in eager expectation, as Jesus advises us in today’s Gospel, and on top of our game. This first week in a fresh liturgical year might quite literally change our lives.
Advent is the most human of all seasons, as we begin to feel the darkness of winter and then experience the winter solstice. Like us, the ancient pagans knew the pain and darkness of humanity and anxiously awaited the celebration of the winter light, the ancient pagan feast of the invincible sun god. Christians have adopted this pagan festival, significantly changing the middle letter in the word “sun” from “u” to “o”. And now we Christians know the time of human longing as Advent and Christmas, the celebration of the invincible Son of God, Jesus, the Wonder Counselor, Messiah, the Prince of Peace. Advent situates our lives as individuals and as Church at a threshold  -  the threshold of time and eternity, the threshold of hope and fulfillment, the threshold of dawn and the light of everlasting day.
We are, indeed, a pilgrim people. We have to reach the other side. Churches, nations  -- we’re involved in one of those historic crossings that lead towards another shore of mankind. A shore further than the moon. Countless numbers are crossing over. Many pause to discuss the day, the place, the hour; or the position of to be given to women, and children, civil and religious authorities, lay people and clergy. Not surprisingly, there is a certain amount of confusion.  There’s a lot of talk about what possessions should be salvaged. Refugees talk like that. We must take essential things. Do we know what we shall most need ? Mattresses, food, the family jewels, the cat, old photographs, a compass, a paperback, the TV ? We have to decide. We can’t take everything. When it’s time to make a move, we can’t help asking, “Why on earth did we accumulate so many things ?” What can we salvage that is really part of us, part of our true selves, that can strengthen us, and give us light on any human shore ? There have been many rivers on our journey, ever since the end of those thousand years when Abraham touched Sarah’s hand and said, “We must get our things together.”
A certain poet, thinking of the donkey that carried Mary, wrote, “Mary weighed little for she was concentrating on the future within her.” We can hope for a similar lightsomeness of spirit and body, as we release ourselves of worldly attachment and skip towards the coming Messiah.
Today’s Gospel says, “The Son of Man is coming in a cloud with great power and glory.” Many self-styled prophets have fixed a day for that arrival. For example, towards the end of the Second World War, the Nazis placed the theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer in prison. He was involved in a conspiracy against Hitler. Some of his fellow Christians were convinced that Hitler was the anti-Christ. So they believed that Christ himself would soon return. They pleaded with Bonhoeffer, "Why do you risk your life ? Jesus will soon return and destroy Hitler, and all your efforts will count for nothing.” Bonhoeffer replied, “If Jesus returns tomorrow, then tomorrow I shall rest from my labours. But today I have work to do. I must continue the struggle till it is finished.” And Bonhoeffer continued his work and witness till the day of his execution by his captors. Like him and all the saints, we must labour in the here and now of our circumstances and difficulties. Our dear Lord Jesus will plan his own arrival and set up his own schedules. We must contend with today and its problems, knowing that he is with us in every one of them.
PRAYER: (Janet Morley)
Your coming is like freedom to the prisoner,
like the return of those long captive.
You are the movements of the dance I have forgotten,
you are the face of satisfied desire.
My soul is stirred for you, my beloved;
I cannot contain my heart;
for you have seen my longing,
and your eyes are dark with love.
Your love is stronger than death,
your passion more relentless than the grave.
You will but speak the word,
and I shall be healed;
though your touch is the touch of a stranger,
yet is your voice  my home.
SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT
Cycle “C”: Luke 3, 1- 6.
If we look closely at the ministry of John in today’s Gospel, we could understand that he was calling the people to pilgrimage: “he went through the whole Jordan district,” inviting them to leave the normal confines of their lives and go on pilgrimage to the river Jordan, and there discover repentance. John was drawing the crowds away from the Jewish Temple and the animal sacrifices. That was good news to those who flocked to him, namely, that God would forgive their sins by a simple decision to return to him and be baptised. There was no need of all those blood and fire sacrifices and long recital of psalms; just turn to God and welcome him into your lives.
“Make straight the paths.” St. Luke quotes a passage from the prophet Isaiah. In ancient Middle East, the roads were like those of Calcutta today. So when John the Baptist announced, “make straight the paths,” the people would have recognized the image of a king sending messengers ahead of his travels to improve the roads for him before his journey. During the actual tour, there was a large group of people just ahead of the king’s entourage sprinkling flowers and perfumes – something like the flower girls for a solemn Eucharistic procession. This was the role that John played for Jesus: he called people to repent so that they would be ready for the Lord when he came.
This Advent is yet another chance for us to prepare for the Lord’s coming. We recall his Incarnation, praying that he will enter more deeply into our hearts, and we look forward to his coming again in his glory. We want to remove habitual sins, straighten out what is crooked in us, smooth the harshness of our judgement in mind and word, and positively to spend more time with God. The process may be painful, but it is the only way to renewal, freedom and rejoicing.
The call of John is patterned on that of the Old Testament prophets (see Jer. 1,2). He is the last of the old dispensation, serving as a bridge to the new. He prepares the way of God that leads through Jesus in the messianic age. John the Baptist was certainly no man to mess around with. He is decidedly our unamused coach for this season when he commands: “prove your repentance by the fruit it bears.”
It takes real courage to admit that you are in the wrong. It’s an admission which everyone hates to make, and many of us avoid it at all costs. Such reluctance is the cause of untold conflict, resentment and suffering. Friends and families may become estranged from each other simply because they cannot acknowledge or confront the fact that they have done, or said, something which they regret. And estrangement can fester, and become mutated into hostility. The original fault may be trivial, but the consequences can be permanent, and quite out of proportion. It’s silly, really, because the root of the problem is pride, and a mistaken belief that if we admit we are wrong, others will see us as weak or imperfect. The truth is the exact opposite  -  most people can already see our weaknesses all too clearly; and to admit them is a sign of integrity and balance, if not actually of strength. C.S. Lewis said, “Joy is never in our power; but pleasure is.” So often, we opt for the shallow, short-term pleasure of having our own way, whereas we could experience the lasting joy of living in conformity with God’s plan for us. To opt for long-term joy rather than short-term pleasure. And we know we can rely on God’s help. God is not threatened by our sinfulness, but always responds with forgiveness and love.
Let me tell you the true story of Marianne. Marianne believed that her life was inferior, so her life bore the fruit of that belief. She had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks. All her life she was warned not to expect too much, because life was hard and unfair. For years she bore the fruit of that belief. She became a prostitute and drug addict, in and out of jail regularly. One day, while walking through a mall, she stole the wallet from another woman’s purse. It contained a few dollars, some credit cards and, among, other things, a small pamphlet. A sentence from the pamphlet caught her attention: “As a child of God, you are worthy of the best that life can offer.” Something strange began to happen to Marianne. All her cold, bitter attitude towards life and people began to melt. Those words had long been forgotten but not lost. She was surprised to feel the desperate need to return the wallet. Getting the number from the blank cheque in the wallet, she phoned the woman, explaining her fault and wanting to bring the wallet home to her immediately. To Marianne’s surprise, there was no anger in the woman’s voice, only understanding. When they met, the lady listened to her story with tender sympathy. She offered Marianne a job and helped her to believe in herself, and to trust and see good in others. Her tree of life was bearing another sweet kind of fruit.
My dear friends, pay close attention to what your heart tells. If you are working towards prosperity and harmony in life, make sure you truly believe you are worthy of having them. This inner conviction, coupled with action, may produce the fruit in life you so deeply desire.
PRAYER
Lord, help me to open my ears to your call, and to open my heart to your love, and show me how to remove the obstacles which I place between us.
God, our deliverer, whose approaching birth still shakes the foundations of our world, may we so wait for your coming with eagerness and hope that we embrace without terror the labour pangs of a new age. Amen.

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT  Year III
 John the Baptist was a powerful figure, a man of pure integrity, without human backing or political patronage, sent exclusively by God to point out the Messiah. “Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world. This is he of whom I said, ‘After me there comes one who has been set before me, because was before me. And I have seen and have borne witness that this is the Son of God’.” Now John is dead. He was allowed little more than 30 years of life. The greatest of all the prophets, destroyed by the hatred of a sinful woman, named Herodias, and the weakness of a degenerate little tyrant, named Herd.
 We don’t know how long he was in prison. I trust not too long, considering the atrocious conditions of prisons those days, but during that period of utter isolation he felt the need to be assured that his mission had not been futile. He sent a message to Jesus: “Are you the one who was to come ?” Jesus did not come personally but sent an assurance that all was well and John need have no fear or doubts. That’s how it will be for us. It is quite possible that some of you will actually and physically see the face of Jesus in your dying moments. But for most of us it will be the interior assurance of faith that God will pour into our hearts, telling us that all will be well.
 Speaking about prophets. Often, naively, we imagine the illumination of a prophet as a fixed thing, as though once gripped by the Spirit, he stood fast for all time. In reality, even a prophet’s life is shaken by many storms and saddled by many weaknesses. At times the Spirit raises him far above the heights of human achievements; at other times the Spirit drops him and down he plunges headlong into darkness and impotency, like Elias in the desert when he flung himself down beneath a bush and begged for death. Yet they had to go with their God-given mission. 
 Take the case of St. John of the Cross, mystic and doctor of the Church. He once said to a young friar, “Do not seek Christ without the cross” - advice he practised himself. He died at the age of 49 in 1591. Throughout his relatively short life, he endured extreme poverty and privation in childhood; misunderstanding, spite and jealousy in adult life; opposition within his own religious community, imprisonment and severe persecution at the hands of his religious brothers; and - in his final illness - physical and emotional neglect in one of his Order’s own monasteries. In his last letter penned during the final stages of his illness as he lay ulcerated and fevered in the worst cell of the monastery of Ubeda where he was made to feel unwelcome and a burden, he summed up the secret of his holiness: “Have a great love for those who fail to love you, for in this way love is begotten in the heart that has no love. God so acts with us, for he loves us that we might love by means of the very love he bears towards us.”  What insight into divine love ! What faith !
 In our times, despite appearances to the contrary, the word “faith” has not undergone devaluation, but has maintained its fire, verve and supernatural folly. Let me give you an example.
  Early in the month of March 1996, Islamic fundamentalist rebels raided a Cistercian monastery high up in the Atlas Mountains in Algeria in North Africa. The rebels took seven of the monks hostage. The monks were aged between 82 and 45 years, all French nationals who had spent their lives praying, working and helping their poor Muslim neighbours around the monastery of Our Lady of the Atlas Mountains. With the monks as hostages, the fundamentalist group demanded the release of Muslim prisoners jailed in France. Their demands were not met by the French government. On Tuesday, 21st. May 1996, the rebels issues a terse and chilling statement: “We have cut the throats of the seven monks....the executions took place this morning.”
 One of the monks executed was Dom Christian de Cherge, prior of the monastery of Our Lady of the Atlas Mountains. Over a year before he was abducted, he had sensed the danger of the situation in which he was living in Algeria. So Dom Christian wrote a letter, a sort of last will and testament. After his violent death, the letter sent to his family in France. They opened it on Pentecost Sunday in 1996. It’s a very moving letter, particularly the final sentences, in which Dom Christian addressed directly the man who will kill him. This is what he wrote:
“And you also, the friend of my final moment who would not be aware of what you are doing. Yes, for you too, I say, ‘thank you’ and adieu. I commend you to the God whose face I see in yours. And may we find each other...in Paradise, if it pleases God, the Father of us both. Amen.”
 Now what sort of extraordinary generosity allows a man to write like that....to call his murderer the “friend of my final moment”, and to see the face of God even in the man who will kill him ?  Quite simply, I think, it comes from a life spent thinking about and praying about the  generosity of the Lord whom he served. From that, Dom Christian and his companions gained the courage and the freedom to follow the pattern set by Jesus, a pattern foreseen by the Master.
 The mysteries of Jesus are our mysteries. Whatever happened to the King must happen to the subjects. Whatever happened to Jesus must happen to us. It happened to John the Baptist, to John of the Cross whose feast is tomorrow 14th. December, it happened to the saints and martyrs who are remembered throughout the year.  May Our Lord Jesus keep us strong in faith.

PRAYER
Lord Jesus, you know that we all have times of doubt and confusion. You know that we can easily be led into feelings of despair and worthlessness. Through the power of your Holy Spirit, fill me with joy at the good news that you have come among us. Amen
FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT
Cycle “C”: Luke 1, 39 – 45
That teenager, named Mary of Nazareth, suddenly became a mother-to-be. Like the average woman, she submitted to the miracle of pregnancy, to something that took its own course, irrespective of the mother, because, as in every pregnancy, it was monitored by a higher power. In Mary’s case, it was the Holy Spirit. St. Luke, himself a physician, tells us that Mary conceived the person of the God-Man Jesus from day one of her pregnancy. Luke then adds that right after the angel’s visit, Mary made a quickie trip to her cousin Elizabeth in Ain Karim about 90 miles away. The journey took a week plus. So, the young woman was pregnant about10 days on arrival. Her amazement and sheer wonder at being chosen must have made her forget the difficulties of the travel, the brooks without bridges, the roads without ridges; the snakes, scorpions and dacoits. Those were the material dangers. This 14 year old had also weathered the moral dangers. In choosing to believe and accept the Angel Gabriel’s message, Mary knew that she was risking humiliation by a pre-marital pregnancy, denunciation and divorce by Joseph, social and religious ostracism, and even death by stoning for adultery, which any old rat could bring against her falsely. But Mary’s humble and obedient assent was full of great faith. She knew that God would do everything for her. And on reaching Elizabeth’s house, yet another thrill awaited her: Elizabeth already knew about Mary’s secret: “Blessed are you among women. And how am I visited by the mother of my Lord ?” The meeting between the all but barren lady and the fresh young sliver of a girl is a touching scene, captured in innumerable works of art. The feeling of joy, the sense of anticipation is so palpable that even the child in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy  -  the heartiest high jump done by a fetus, and with good reason. There is no mention of Mary telling Elizabeth her secret, the secret Joseph learned through an angel. All we have is her word of greeting, her “Shalom.” Here Mary’s greeting is the vehicle of the Holy Spirit who reveals the presence of the Messiah to the older woman. She responds in faith: “Blessed is the fruit of your womb.” And in great humility the elder bows to the younger. “Why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me ?” Elizabeth’s words were prophetic. Even before John the Baptist would be old enough to point out the Saviour, his mother already proclaimed the coming of the Lord !
Now what do you think of Mary’s word of greeting ?  Did you ever consider that even before her Son Jesus would institute the sacraments, his mother’s word to Elizabeth was already a sacrament. A sacrament, after all, is an outward sign of inward grace. Here the outward sign was Mary’s word of greeting; and the inward grace was the Holy Spirit’s action that sanctified John the Baptist while yet in the womb. Again, how very peculiar that both the mothers, Elizabeth and Mary, beat their sons to it, anticipating their sons’ ministries by three decades. Mary was the minister of John’s sanctification by her simple word of greeting; and Elizabeth was the first proclaimer of the Messiah in the New Testament.
Worldly joy can be a brief and fleeting experience: mostly it illuminates moments of delight in our lives and quickly fades; but God wants us to experience his lasting joy, the way he gave it to Mary and Elizabeth   His joy has its source in a well spring from which we draw  -  the well spring is the deposit of faith in our hearts since baptism. If we take time at this joyful season to contemplate the meaning of the birth of Jesus we can be confident that God’s joy will be the fruit of that meditation. There are times when it is hard for us to emulate Mary’s joy. We may be ground down by work, depression, worries, and all the trials of life in this world. When this happens we must learn from Mary’s example and ponder the wonders God has done in history and in each of our own lives. He created us, he makes himself known through prayer, scripture and the teaching of the Church, and he continuously showers his blessings on us.
As followers of Christ, we have truly given ourselves over to doing God’s will. The truth is that, like Mary, our hearts are, deep down, set on doing God’s will. That is the deepest desire and thrust of our lives. We should rejoice in this wonderful work that God has done in the depths of our souls. This Christmas Eve, therefore, rejoice that God has given you the desire and the will to love him and do his will. Let your doing God’s will be the source of your joy !
PRAYER  (Frank Colquhoun):
Our heavenly Father, as once again we prepare for Christmas, help us to find time in our busy lives for quiet and thought and prayer; that we may reflect upon the wonder of your love and allow the story of the Saviour’s birth to penetrate our hearts and minds. So may our joy be deeper, our worship more real, and our lives worthier of all that you have done for us through the coming of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.