From the 6th verse of
O Come, O Come, Emmanuel:
O come, O Dayspring from on high,
And cheer us by your drawing
nigh.
Think of the coming of the dawn. Consider how slowly it
rises, and how gentle is its first light.
And then, consider the coming of the Savior of the World
into the world: not as a mighty king, but as a little child, poor and homeless.
Gradually, over the course of years, that child will grow into a man, into the
God-man ready to teach and to heal, to suffer, die and to rise again. To be “a
light in the darkness,” to quote the prologue in St. John’s Gospel.
These things come slowly.
Conversion, enlightenment, awakening: most often, these
come slowly as well. Slow, gradual but inevitable.
I like to think of it in this way:
We are in a room that is
completely dark. And we strike a match and light a single candle. At first,
there is just a tiny, flickering light, but then the light slowly spreads and
begins to fill the room with a soft gentle light. The light is there with us,
but the room is still somewhat dark. Light and darkness exist together in the
beginning. And then, if we use that tiny light to light other candles and
spread them throughout the room, then the darkness recedes while there is only
the light left.
This is the process of conversion, of enlightenment, of
awakening or of anything else you might like to call it.
Sometimes Christ comes into our lives as a blast from
heaven knocking us off our horse, as happened to Saint Paul. But for most of
us, most of the time, the light begins as a dayspring, or as a single candle in
a darkened room.
As you pray for the coming of Christ into your life this
year, pray also that you might be able to see the gentle light as it begins its
process within your heart and your mind and your soul.
Blessed Advent to you.
