The Roots of Good Men and the Shaking of Advent
Recovering interior peace in a time of peril and grief
He died on the first day of Advent…
Two years ago, I stood next to the casket of my beloved father-in-law, and my knees literally shook with cold and grief. The sorrow on the face of his devoted bride remains etched in my memory. We were shaken and broken. One of his grandsons articulated the feeling as that of being untethered… unmoored.
A good man grows roots in the ground and stays put for his family. They tease about his routines, his stubbornness, and his predictable jokes. And while they kid and flourish…
The roots grow deeper. Solid. Unshakable.
They know this… a little. Until he is gone and then they KNOW… that he has been rooted and they are the branches. They have felt a faint shaking of earthquakes, the heat of fires, and the gusts of strong winds; but it is the rooted father who digs deeply and secures the family while they grow. He takes the blows, the flames, the deep shakings.
Every day, his supplications and prayers of thanksgiving rise to the creator. The sun rises and sets. He gets up and does what men do. He toils and he counsels. He kneels and he rests. He battles sin and enemy and elements.
Rooted.
I know what my son meant when he said he felt adrift. We are still experiencing a bit of vertigo as the earth shifts (but remains) beneath us and we continue to take hesitant steps forward. The men seemed to feel the loss uniquely, understanding that they have to grow taller and deeper now in their turn. They know that they have been loved and raised and held up by a good man, rooted in strength and courage and fidelity, and that they are also made for that greatness.
There is a quickening of life in the presence of death. World events add to the feeling. That now is not the time for weak men, addicted men, immoral men, or timid men…
It is time to take root in a shaking world.
The Shaking of Advent
In the wake of so much loss and insecurity of recent years, there seems to be a growing sense of loss and futility. For healing to begin, the sorrow must be matched and finally overtaken by an hunger for full consciousness in Christ Jesus. To be unshakeable. Tireless. Surrendered.
There is only One who can offer freedom from the damnable spirit of isolation and grief. If I am to remain truly free under any circumstance, I’d best get used to praying through all of it; not as if it is a chore, but as St. Thérèse described it… a surge of the heart. After my father-in-law’s death, I felt that surge from the depths.
Today, I feel the Advent gears begin to strain with the effort of my many plans and projects and I recall how Dad’s life and death opened the door to something new. Shattered me so that I could be rebuilt. In that memory, I open the well-worn pages of my favorite Advent book which has been balm on many occasions, reminding me that it is time now to awaken from slumber and invite Christ into the reality as it is; not simply to survive, but to come alive.
Father wanted us to know that Advent is not a reenactment of the past. It is about becoming alive to Christ in the present.
With chained wrists in the belly of Tegel Prison in Nazi occupied Berlin, Father Alfred Delp wrote the following:
Advent is a time of being deeply shaken…
The shaking, the awakening: with these life merely begins to become capable of Advent. It is precisely the severity of this awakening, in the helplessness of coming to consciousness, in the wretchedness of experiencing our limitations that this golden threads running between Heaven and earth reach us; the threads that give the world a hint of the abundant to which it is called, the abundance of which it is capable.
Like the Germans of 1944, we are inclined to turn up the Christmas music to drown out the realities we face. When the season is over, we sink back into our normal, having missed the opportunity to awaken and rise. Father Delp says:
Here is the message of Advent: faced with him who is the Last, the world will begin to shake. Only when we do not cling to false securities will our eyes be able to see this Last One and get to the bottom of things. Only then will we have the strength to overcome the terrors into which God has let the world sink. God uses these terrors to awaken us from sleep, as Paul says, and to show us that it is time to repent, time to change things. It is time to say, “all right, it was night; but let that be over now and let us get ready for the day.”
So I lift my heart and arms in Advent prayer again…
I am tired. Awaken me.
I am afraid. Encourage me.
I am lost. Rescue me.
I am cold. Warm me.
I am broken. Heal me.
I am weak. Strengthen me.
I am arrogant. Humble me.
I am sinful. Forgive me.
I doubt... show me the way.
Blessed be God forever.
RECOVERING PEACE
In 2019, I read the account of a Uyghur woman who was imprisoned in the Chinese Communist re-education camps. One detail of her story stays with me still:
The Chinese keep the Uyghur women exhausted and busy with fruitless labor. Some of that time is spent in reprogramming classes. The fatigued women dare not close their eyes for even a second for fear of punishment. Punished because a little closing of the eyes indicates to the Chinese that the women might be praying…
And the enemies of God know that prayer makes you free.
The unique advantage that a Christian has during times of persecution and isolation is the consolation of Jesus Christ. Communication with Him is a threat to all machinations of evil. Evil is not content with destroying your body and mind, what it really wants is your soul.
Sometimes when I neglect prayer I think of that Uyghur woman and all impacted by the ongoing Uyghur genocide. Isolated but not allowed to be alone. Tortured. With no darkness during the night, no friendship during the day, no freedom to move or work productively…
Abused and controlled by an enemy bent on stealing even her interior life.
In the West, we simply give it away by fusing our minds and souls to tech and busyness. The knowledge that this is currently happening to me drives the urge to resist and recover prayer. I don’t want to lose connection with the only One who can offer freedom from the damnable spirit of isolation. How easily we fall.
If I am to remain truly free under any circumstance, I’d best get used to praying in all circumstances. Not as if it is a chore, but as St. Thérèse described it: a surge of the heart.
Jesus, I trust in You. I throw myself on your mercy. Grant me the grace of desire and fidelity.
“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”
~ 2 Corinthians 3:17
QUICKER THINGS…
If you’re looking for a very simple way to recover prayer in the heart of your vocation, I invite you to read a brief invitation on Instagram. Thank you to my friend, Liz, who inspired it. Only the Kitchen Sink: An Advent Invitation.
Looking for a last minute Christmas gift for someone in need of healing? I wrote a book. The Sunshine Principle: A Radically Simple Guide to Natural Catholic Healing
My dear friend, Kay, just released a free Nativity Advent demo album and it is lovely. Good music can increase holy silence instead of adding to the noise. More info (and free download) at the Cassia & Myrrh substack. The album should be available wherever you stream music. I just added to my Spotify Advent playlist.
When I was a younger mom, I liked to wait as long as possible before Christmas to put up the tree. One year I think we made it all the way to Christmas Eve. At some point, I began to see the value in lower stress prep (a smiling family is better) and a building sense of joyful expectation.
We decorated on the feast of St. Nicholas this year, and even had Christmas (I mean ADVENT) music playing. The music will continue to be a point of disagreement (I prefer to wait), but there are countless beautiful little ways that Christmas shines through, like glitter that has escaped the jar and can’t ever be properly collected again. And it is good…
Because we know the whole story already and are preparing for our beloved Guest. Come, Lord Jesus, Come!
God bless your season of waiting and preparing.
Melody
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Melody, your words are pure gold. Thank you! I'm reading Fr. Delp's book for the first time this Advent. Words can't describe my thoughts on so many levels. Would that all people might read it!