A Christmas Prescription from the Angelic Doctor

As a theology student reading selections of St. Thomas Aquinas’ Summa Theologica, I was never quite sure whether I was falling into a rapture or falling asleep.  Although I’m sure Aquinas is entirely worthy of the ecclesial title “Angelic Doctor”, I always thought of him as more of an academic than an angel, and even though I treasure those volumes of the Summa given to me by a friend as I went off to college, I see them now as having more symbolic value than immediate theological relevance in my life.

That being said, I came across one of the Angelic Doctor’s sermons a few days ago that reminded me that Thomas Aquinas was not only methodical and intelligent, but also sensitive and spiritual.  In this homily, given on the First Sunday of Advent, he associated several unexpected Scripture verses with the impending birth of Christ.  I found each of them very worthy of Christmas meditation.

I offer these verses to you here with my own Christmas greetings.  I thank each of you for the support and encouragement you have offered me this past year, and I wish you and your loved ones a peaceful, meaningful, and very merry Christmas:

“And so it happened that there was in the same man justice to the full and infinite mercy, and so mercy and truth have met one another; justice and peace have kissed one another (Ps. 95:11)….  Thus he came to make peace between mankind and God.  And for this he is the appropriate arbiter, since he is himself our peace which makes both one (Eph. 2:14)….  He came to take away the contamination of sin, like a doctor.  Mt. 8:7 reads:  I will come and cure him.  He came to be in our company, like a friend; it says in Baruch 5, From the holy one my joy comes.

-- St. Thomas Aquinas, Veniet Desideratus: Sermon on the First Sunday of Advent

Humanity's Dream

“Humanity’s dream which began in the Garden of Eden – we want to be like God – is realized in an unexpected way, not through the greatness of man, who cannot make himself God, but through the humility of God who came down among us in His humility, raising us to the true greatness of His being."

-- Pope Benedict XVI, General Audience, Jan. 4, 2012

Lessons of the Trees #5: O Tannenbaum!

In the U.S., the definitive sign that your household has entered into the Christmas spirit is that the tree is up and decorated.  Although there is great variety in the ways we celebrate, decorate and commemorate the season, the tree is a common, unifying symbol.

As you can imagine, the history of the Christmas tree is long and complicated.  Trees have symbolized many things through the ages, and with good reason.  They are strong and dignified, living and resilient.  Their wood is used to build things (including mangers and crosses) and their branches and leaves protect small animals and birds.  In some cultures, trees are thought to have their own spirits, and to be worthy of worship.  And certainly they do point to and reach toward the heavens!

The conifers we use as Christmas trees have the added symbolism of a triangle shape (Trinity, anyone?).  And of course they stay green through the long winter, symbolizing the hope we always have in Christ, as fresh as the day he rose from the dead.  I can certainly attest to this effect of the evergreen; one reason I don’t mind the long winters in Connecticut is because of the gorgeous view of five stately green conifers in my back yard.  I am not a fan of snow, but snow settling on pines is one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen.

Despite these symbolic tidbits, the most interesting thing I’ve read about the history of the Christmas tree is a tradition that is really more of a precursor.  It comes from the medieval European tradition of celebrating Christmas Eve as “Adam and Eve Day.”   Evergreens, symbolizing the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, were decorated with apples, symbolizing the forbidden fruit.  At some point, white wafers, symbolizing the Eucharist, were also hung on the trees.  And so two foods decorated the medieval “Paradise Tree” – one which brought down the human race, and another which is an “antidote”, a sign of our redemption. 

Decorating “Paradise Trees” is a tradition that persisted but evolved.  Fresh apples were replaced with – you guessed it – bright red balls.  Now sure, I’ve thought vaguely before about the relationship between the Tree of Knowledge, the Tree of the Cross, and the Christmas Tree.  But this year, when those bright red balls go on, I might just see old Tannenbaum in a whole new light!

The lovely pines in my back yard were my landlord's kids' Christmas trees.

The lovely pines in my back yard were my landlord's kids' Christmas trees.

Cleaning House

One reason I love having visitors is that it motivates me to clean house.  My tendency to put some chores off until necessary became embarrassingly evident to me a few years ago when my daughter saw me cleaning the toilet and asked, “Is someone coming over?”  While I do clean at other times, somehow, when I know visitors are coming, I clean with purpose and energy, I keep up my momentum, and I get better results.  I love that feeling of everything in its place, floors clean, corners dusted.  I know the house won’t stay this way for long, but for one brief shining moment my corner of the world is right, and I am ready to welcome my visitors into my home.

I would love for my home to always be in order.  But sometimes I find it hard to motivate myself to do something that I know will quickly be undone simply by living.  But a deadline – the arrival of a guest at my door on a certain day at a certain time – has the power to motivate me when my natural desire for a clean home does not.

I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.  During Advent (from the Latin advenire, “to come”), we are waiting for the arrival of a guest.  Not just any guest, but one we surely want to impress, one we will welcome into our homes, one we wish to honor and respect by making all the necessary preparations.  We are always waiting for the Christ – for his birth, his return, his coming into our hearts and lives.  But sometimes we need a deadline – in this case, December 25th – to motivate us to do those things that prepare us for his coming.  Sometimes we need a deadline to get our homes in order.  The numbered weeks and days of Advent – like the 40 days of Lent – are a gift of limits.  With all the time in the world, we may never get around to the “extras” we need to do to get ready – extra time for prayer, quiet or reading our Bibles, going to confession, going on retreat, spending more time with loved ones, serving those around us.  But with a deadline, we have purpose and energy, we have some momentum, and we get results. 

When Ordinary Time comes around again, we may feel a bit like we do when Cheerios once again litter the floor, the dishes are piled in the sink, the fridge handle gets sticky, and the dust settles back onto everything.  There is always work to be done.  But for one brief shining moment, all was right in our corner of the world.  Our Savior was born, and we were ready.