Saturday, March 3, 2018

Lent as “Marathon Training” in the Context of the Liturgical Calendar and the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola



While Advent is the season to prepare for the adventus of the Lord in the human flesh of Jesus, Logos incarnating to dwell among us, Lent (Quadragesima) is the season of 40 days to prepare for the Death and the Resurrection of the Lord, in contemplating Paschal Mystery. From the Resurrection Sunday until the feast of Pentecost, there are seven weeks of Easter celebration.  From Advent until Pentecost, through Christmastide, a short period of ordinary time, Lent, and Eastertide, we basically focus on the life of Jesus and how we relate ourselves to his life. For this reason, we start a liturgical year with Advent, reflecting the Old Testament prophesies of the coming of the Messiah and our need to remain vigilant and repentant in our preparation for his arrival. The Advent Gospel readings juxtapose this adventus preparation to the preparation for Parousia, because preparation for this eschatological event also requires the same kind of attentiveness and vigilance, as well as penance for the state of grace, for Advent.

As we begin a liturgical year with Advent season in preparation for the Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), reflected in the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola, we are reminded to examine ourselves, as John the Baptist called the world to pay attention to the prophetic voice for repentance, juxtaposed to Examen in the Spiritual Exercises, to prepare ourselves to encounter the Lord. We first meet the Lord at his Nativity, celebrating this event until the feast of Epiphany, for twelve days. Liturgically, we extended Christmas celebration until the feast of the Baptism of the Lord.

We go through a brief period of Ordinary Time between Christmastide and Lent (no more than 8 Sundays) – between the feast of the Baptism of the Lord and Ash Wednesday, reflecting how Jesus recruited the first batch of his disciples in Capernaum and began his public ministry in Galilee, upon his Baptism. This is to see unfolding consequences of what we have prepared for during Advent and celebrated: the adventus of the Lord, or to put in light of John 1:1-14, the evolving effects of the Logos-Theos manifesting (theophany) in the human flesh of Jesus.

Through Advent into Christmastide, we begin symbolizing Christ with light in anticipating his adventus. That is why we make symbolic impressions of increasing light by lighting Advent candles one by one on each Sunday of Advent to reflect increasing brightness and receding darkness as the adventus of the Lord (Christmas) draws near. This Advent impression evokes how night darkness gives its way to the light of sunrise upon dawn. No wonder that “Kalenda” proclamation in the Roman Martyrology makes the date of the Nativity of the Lord on the feast of Sol Invictus, a Roman sun god, as to replace this pagan deity with Christ, thus claiming the “birthday” of Jesus December 25.  Certainly, juxtaposition between Christ the Son and the sun can be drawn, with a motif of light. The allegorical parallel between Christ the Son and the sun is also reflected in Misa de Gallo in the Spanish-speaking cultures and Simbang Gabi novena in the Philippines. Mass in these cultural traditions begin at dawn, while it is still dark, and end by the time the sun rises.  These Hispanic and Filipino traditions toward the end of Advent allegorically juxtapose the anticipation of the adventus of Christ the Son to the sun rise. In this Christ-sun metaphoric parallel, the Nativity of the Lord, as the very first theophany, can be compared to sun rise, though it was still dark when Mary gave birth to Jesus. With this Christ-sun juxtaposition, then, Christmastide is like the morning brightness, lighten by the risen sun.  By the time we celebrate the feast of the Baptism of the Lord to end the liturgical Christmas season, upon celebrating the feast of Epiphany, the sun is well above the horizon, in this Christ-sun juxtaposition.

While it is still early in the morning sun light, we begin Ordinary Time, after the liturgical Christmas season, which ends with the feast of the Baptism of the Lord. As the sun is visible above the horizon, Jesus, upon his Baptism, is clearly visible in the world – though the world still does not recognize who he really is.  The visible Jesus recruits his disciples and begins his public ministry in Galilee. Then, Lent begins with Ash Wednesday, as to interrupt Ordinary Time (which resumes after Pentecost).  This is like the beautiful morning sun light is compromised by fast-increasing dark clouds, as to hide the sun. It is to juxtapose the darkness of our sins, which leads Christ to his death on the Cross, to the dark clouds to block the sun. So, Lent begins with constant reminders of our sinfulness and our need for repentance. It is also a critical period to reflect how our unrepentant sinfulness led to the death of Christ, as Lent advances into the Holy Week, especially into Paschal Triduum.

It is supposed to become brighter as the altitude of the sun increases. However, on the contrary, the darkness continues to grow toward noon and beyond. Then, the darkest hours begin at three o’clock in the afternoon, as it was the time Jesus took his last breath on the Cross, fulfilling his promise to the Father, accepting His will in Gethsemane (Matthew 26:42//Luke 22:42//Mark 14:36), with his last seven words, “Πάτερ, εἰς χεῖράς σου παρατίθεμαι τὸ πνεῦμά μου/Pater, eis cheiras sou paratithemai to pneuma mou /Father, into your hands, I commit/commend my spirit”(Luke 23:46), thus consummating his mission, the reason for him to make his adventus in the human flesh of Jesus on Christmas, by completing his kenosis on the Cross. Because of this, the Christ the Son in the human flesh of Jesus died and was buried, juxtaposing to the darkest sky while it was too early for the sun to set. As the corpse of Jesus was buried before the sunset of that day not to interfere the Sabbath of Passover (John 19:38-42), the darkest hours begin before the actual sunset, and it runs throgh the evening of Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and before Easter Vigil Mass, as we cover the crucifix and other statues in the sanctuary with purple cloths (Passiontide veiling) during this darkest period. It is, indeed, “the dark night of the soul”, and this increasing darkness is reflected in the Tenebrae service, which begins Spy Wednesday, continued on Holy Thursday (Maundy Thursday), Good Friday and Holy Saturday.  These four days of Tenebrae service make a contrast to the lightening of Advent candles on each Advent Sunday, as the former is to extinguish one candle after another, while the latter is to light one candle after another.

The darkest period before Easter Vigil Mass, during the time of the Passiontide veiling, is, indeed, what San Juan de la Cruz puts as “La Noche Oscura del Alma”, because it is the darkness that leads our soul to mystical union with Christ – the risen Christ, as he poetically reflects in Subida del Monte Carmelo. The gradual lightening during Easter Vigil Mass may be reflected on our souls’ longing kindled in love (ansias en amores inflamada) to meet the risen Lord, upon our completion of Lenten penance. Through metanoia – conversion of heart during Lent, by turning away from sin and returning to God, this darkest time of the soul is not mere darkness. Rather, it is indeed, La Noche Oscura del Alma to meet the rising Lord during Easter Vigil Mass. As San Juan de la Cruz puts La Noche Oscura del Alma in the context of Subida del Monte Carmelo, the dark night of the soul in the period of Passiontide gives rise to Christ’s victory over death in his glorious Resurrection, juxtaposed to Elijah victory over Baal’s prophets on Mt. Carmel (1 Kings 18:16-45). Not to mention, Mt. Carmel’s association with victorious Elijah calls our attention to Jesus meeting with him, along with Moses, on Mt. Tabor during the Transfiguration (Matthew 17:1–8//Mark 9:2–8// Luke 9:28–36) , which is understood as the prefiguration of Christ’s Resurrection, also reflected in the Gospel reading for the Second Sunday of Easter.

By the time we celebrate Easter day time (morning) Mass, Christ the Son is fully risen, hallelujah! The tomb, which hid Jesus’ corpse was hidden – juxtaposed to the Passiontide veiling, is totally empty. Yet, as reflected on the disciples’ fear over the empty tomb, due to their ignorance of the Resurrection, the Eastertide began with lingering anxiety and doubt in us. Thus, we still need to work on our soul and heart during Eastertide, reflecting on how the two disciples were enlightened by their companion on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35), and how Jesus’ repeated appearances until his Ascension gradually replaced the disciples’ fear with joy, preparing them for their apostolic mission on Pentecost (John 20:19-21:25; Luke 24:36-53; Matthew 28:16-20; Mark 16:14-20; Acts 1).

The risen Christ never descends. He rather ascends to prepare our permanent dwelling place in heaven (John 14:1-3) and to ensure that the Holy Spirit will come upon us on Pentecost to send us on our mission (John 16:7). It means that the sun will never set, upon the Easter Sunday sunrise, allegorically speaking to juxtapose Christ the Son to the sun. As reminded on Christmas, replacing the former feast of Sol Invictus of pagan Rome, Christ the Son is far greater than the sun.  In fact, this is why the sun will no longer be necessary with Parousia (Revelation 22:5), as our apostolic mission to carry over Christ’s mission consummates with this eschatological event in the Kingdom at hand.

This is one way to look into how our Lenten journey is connected not only to Easter and Pentecost but also back to Advent and Christmas. Furthermore, this contextual reflection of Lent gives foresight into what we are called, as reflected in Jesus’ these words, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all  that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age”(Matthew 28:19-20).

With this in mind, I invite you to further reflect on Ash Wednesday homily of my good friend, Fr. Michael Sparough, S.J.. In this, Fr. Michael allegorically describes Lent as a “marathon training”.  Then, what is the “marathon” we train for during Lent is juxtaposed to?  I say, the “marathon” starts on Pentecost – not Easter. 

To expand and expound Fr. Michael’s Ash Wednesday homily (found in Youtube: Fr. Michael's Video Homily Excerpt - Lent is Spiritual Training), which is “the kick-off “into Lenten “marathon” training,  the “marathon” is our respective apostolic mission journey, reflecting the gifts of the Holy Spirit that God bestows upon each of us on Pentecost.  It means that our “marathon training” continues on beyond the Resurrection Sunday.  Remember, the disciples were not yet ready to go on their apostolic mission until Pentecost, as they were still plagued with anxiety on the day of the Resurrection.  Therefore, the Lenten “marathon” training that Fr. Michael is speaking in his Ash Wednesday homily is just the first segment of the “training”.  Upon the Resurrection Sunday, we begin the second segment of the “marathon training”. We take a bit of rest during these days between Ascension of the Lord and Pentecost – just as marathoners take it easy a day or so before the race. As St. Paul of Tarsus well reflects with his words in 1 Corinthians 9:24 and 2 Timothy 4:7-8, the “marathon” we are training to run is not about “participation”, but must be firmly resolved to complete for a prize. Why so?  Because, being Christian, trying is not good enough. Our efforts must bring good results, as Jesus has allegorically said that a tree is judged by its fruit (Matthew 12:33) and also indicated in his parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30). That is why Fr. Michael also touched upon Matthew Kelly’s distinction between “trying” and “training” – so that we do not make our Lenten training another excuse of “trying” and “trying” with no traction for results.


After all, the Lenten marathon training is to prepare us for our Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam apostolic mission marathon! For those who are familiar with this Jesuit motto of Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam,  the Lenten “marathon” training can be done in connection to the First Week (#24-71) and the Third Week (#190-217) of the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. In connecting Lent to Advent, Christmastide, and Eastertide, as reflected above, engaging in the entire four-week format of the Spiritual Exercises is very meaningful. Then, the Spiritual Exercises serve as our best “marathon” training manual.







No comments:

Post a Comment