BLOG POST | 3 Things that You Might Have Missed this Christmas Season

3 Things that You Might Have Missed this Christmas Season

I will forever use the excuse, "I've had two babies," for any time I need a reason why I forgot something. I am a thirty-something Millennial, and I carry my phone around with me at all times, not because I am glued to it, but because of the voice-to-text feature of taking notes so I won't forget anything in the 30-foot walk back to my office.

Sometimes I'll pop into the Heritage Room and say hi to the Stitchers on a Wednesday morning and completely forgot why I went in there. Now, before any jokes about age and forgetfulness surface, I would like to remind you that I've had two babies (just in case you forgot). I would then quickly glance at my phone and see that I have a note to ask Kathy Ponder if anyone would be interested in sewing on Father J's new cope clasp. Well, that and when I hear Kathy's infectious laugh echo the halls downstairs of the church, I can't help but be filled with joy. 

Needless to say, I use my phone to keep a lot of notes and lists. I've found that checklists are one of those underrated, simple pleasures that we all take advantage of, for example:

• A checklist at home: preschool snacks, clean out closets, continue laundry
• A checklist at work: organize Flocknote training with parishioners, update the website, complete weekly bulletin
• A checklist at life: Pray. Be still and know that He is God. Pray some more.

Some days I pray that I get the weekly bulletin polished and published while making a preschool snack for myself (Goldfish and Oreos, anyone?).
Living in Branson is one of the many joys in my life. And Branson knows how to do Christmas trees right, my three-year-old can corroborate this. The anticipation for Christmas starts long before Advent in Branson. You start seeing hints of the holiday decor go up right around Halloween. So the excitement starts early.

Does anyone's holiday checklist go a little like this?

• Put up the Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving like everyone else on the block. Check.
• Ignore the built-in porch lights while you triple the electric bill by illuminating the outside of your house with never-ending, non-energy efficient strands of light that fill the hearts of on-lookers with child-like wonder and glee. Check. 
• Procrastinate getting Christmas gifts for family and friends until the last minute and then complain about the crowded stores and stressed-out salespeople. Double Check.

It's now January. We've just celebrated Epiphany. Wait, what? What happened? Just when I thought I was up-ing my ribbon curling game and poof. It's now the year 2022 and the three wise men are added to the nativity scene.
As much effort as I put in to not forgetting the day-to-day responsibilities, I can miss the most important, the most significant, and the most glorious declaration of love that is the birth of our Savior.

I know I am not the only one. I really hope I'm not the only one. So, combine a large helping of tunnel vision, a handful of checklist needs, and just a dash of anxiety, and when mixed together we have:

 

3 Things that You Might Have Missed During the Christmas Season

1) Our Pastor's practice is to not have bells rung in Mass during Advent (and Lent) but were rung again at the Gloria on the Feast of the Nativity.
At Mass during Advent, I wondered why it was so quiet at the Liturgy of the Eucharist. If I had taken more than a moment, I probably would have noticed the significance of that silence instead of automatically assuming one of my toddlers was elbow deep in the diaper bag, mining for snacks.

Advent is a time of preparation, a time of anticipation. Bells may or may not be rung during Mass, this is up to the Pastor. Since Father J. decided to omit the bells in Mass during this time of preparation, the absence of them was a little jarring when you are so often comforted by their singing at Mass throughout the year. The silence makes you long for their return. And so, we long for the Messiah. We wait in Advent, we wait for the Baby King, we wait for our Savior. 

And just as compelling, the bells returned to us. During the Christmas Mass, when the Gloria was sung, the bells were rung and the lights were lit. No longer were we in quiet darkness but we had seen a great light. 
    And so, we join with that army of angels every time we praise and worship God by singing: 
  2) The Rite of Penance reminds us that our lives are not about us.
I was blessed to see so many of my fellow parishioners at our Communal Penance Service. The only other Form B Reconciliation Services that I had attended were at other parishes and were fairly small. So, to say that I was blessed, may be an understatement. I was gifted with the assurance that when the Holy Spirit moves in my brothers and sisters, so many echo the words of a young Nazarene girl by saying, "Yes." 

Form B of the Sacrament of Reconciliation like this Penance service was a wonderful opportunity for those who had been away from the Sacrament or the Church for a few weeks or even a few decades. Reconciliation is exactly that, reconciling with God, each other, and ourselves. 

Form A of the Sacrament of Reconciliation is the form more community known where an individual meets with a priest, either in the confessional or by appointment. If you would like to know more, click here to watch Father J. take you through OLL's confessional.

At the Communal Penance Service on December 19th, 2021, twelve priests traveled from all over the diocese to be present for this community-strengthening opportunity. As the ten priests and two bishops lined the inside of the Church, Father J. took us through the beginning of the service. 

As forgetful as I am (because I've had two babies), one thing really stuck out to me. Father J. asked us to do two things when we came back to our pews after making our confessions with hearts that want to change. He asked us to pray for two things: our penance and for those around us.

At first, I was surprised by his instructions. They seemed so obvious. Of course, we would do our penance and sure, I can pray for the people sitting around me, no problem. (Just another checklist to complete.) But why did this need to be said and then repeated? 

It didn't really hit me until after the service, after Christmas, and now after Epiphany. My life is not about me. By praying for those who just made their confession (and some made their first confession), I am growing in love with my brothers and sisters, and therefore growing in love with my Lord. And when I love those around me, I am loving the One who created them. By lifting these people up in prayer who just reconciled themselves with God, I am fulfilling part of the Lord's plan for my life. I am participating, actively participating, in the theo-drama that is His Will. 

When the realization came to me, I was sharing about the service with my mother-in-law and fairly new ordained brother-in-law. It was a wonderful conversation, I can't believe that it took me so long to understand the magnitude of something so simple. "Pray for those around you, who have also just been reconciled with God, themselves, and now with the community." It was a powerful moment when I felt as if the Holy Spirit tapped me on the shoulder and say, "See? You aren't the only one who struggles. You aren't the only one who needs to go to Confession. You aren't the only one."

We didn't need team-building exercises or ice-breakers to strengthen our parish community. We need to pray for one another, bear one another's burdens, and therefore fulfill the law of Christ. 


3. The Church calendar and the story of Salvation start at the same time every year.
Jesus talks about children so often in Scripture that he clearly expects us to listen!  He even said in Matthew 18:3 "Unless you change and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of Heaven. 

I'm sure we are all familiar with the Advent calendar. I had one growing up, my brothers had one, my cousin had one, the neighbor with the weird dog down the street had one. My Advent calendar was two sheets of stiff cardboard with the front piece consisting of perforated "doors" that would reveal an element to the story of the Messiah's birth. It was such a happy memory I have when I think back to Christmas as a kid, but it drove me absolutely bananas to open just one door at a time. Nails on a chalkboard do not describe the level of angst that would flow from the impatience of my six-year-old self. I wanted to know what was next, what limerick, what depiction, what new character would appear on the scene! And now you want me to wait a whole day to open the next door?? *insert dramatic faint here*

While this might be a (slight) over-exaggerated telling of my childhood at Advent, there is a morsel that we can hope to gleam.

Fast forward to my adult years. I now work on staff at a Catholic Church. (Which is something I never thought I'd be doing because I did not grow up Catholic. We only knew one Catholic family and they were a little kooky. I mean, they had a concrete statue in their front yard. Oh, dear.) Most of my work-life revolves around the liturgical calendar. And now that we are coming to a close to the Christmas season, I'm in planning mode for Lent since Ordinary Time was thought through before Advent.

I check the Liturgical calendar often but it took me working on staff for me to realize that the Church's Liturgical calendar starts at the beginning of Advent. Did anyone else not know this? I mean, it seems so simple that I probably should have had a V8 when I realized that. 

During Advent, my three-year-old (did you know I have two children?) will pull out her Advent calendar. Is it two pieces of stiff cardboard with flaps to act as doors? Of course not, she has this fancy one that, when actual doors open, it reveals a shepherd, a tree, a camel, a something, to assemble together. So, by the time December 25th rolls around, she has a whole playset.

After I got over myself and my "kids these days" moment, I saw something remarkable unfold before my eyes. As we would put together the stable or the magi, she would tell me about who or what was there and how they interacted with each other. 

During the Liturgy of the Eucharist, time is suspended and we are present at the Last Supper hearing the words of Jesus, "this is my Body." For my sweet toddler, time was suspended literally playing out the Christmas story. She was with the donkey being led by Joseph. She was with the frightened shepherds at the angels' appearance. She was with Mary, soothing Baby Jesus' cries. Every step in the Advent journey brought us to this; the arrival of the King of Kings as a little baby, and my sweet child didn't miss a beat.

The impatience I had when I was a child wasn't because I was bored and wanted to skip ahead to the end. It was because there was something far greater waiting for me. At the time, I didn't know the magnitude of what I was experiencing. But that is precisely why Jesus tells us that we need to be like little children. He wants us to fall in love and completely surrender to the accumulation of our existence: praise and worship the One who loved us before time even began. ​


            

Author Bio: Nyssa Berhorst
 

---