Archives for December 2015

I’ve already revealed that I am a bad person who hates Christmas (although this Novena looks promising!), so I may as well take a swipe at Santa while we’re here. As a father of young children, I’m not particularly worked up about Santa one way or the other. He’s not really worth the time to discourage the kids from knowing about him, reading stories about him, or watching Christmas movies featuring him. My kids know all about him but also know that he is pretend. Children are quite capable of enjoying make-believe, so I have no interest in stopping them if Santa catches their fancy. To me, he isn’t challenging to faith, an affront to Christmas, or a rival to the Nativity of Our Lord, so it isn’t bothersome to see him at the mall or even a special event at Church. He seems like a swell, generous guy. He’s part of the Christmas fun.

Let’s admit, though, that Santa is one-dimensional and safe. If anything, I am offended at his blandness. But if we do embrace the Santa myth, if we do allow his story to eclipse that of Our Lord, what does that say about us? What is our ability to critically think about story, moral ambiguity, and the challenge of examining the big questions about our existence? At Christmas we are presented with two different myths, one of them happens to be true and the other make-believe, but let’s not focus on that*, instead let’s examine the stories purely as story and ask which is more robust? Which is more beautiful? Which is better?

If we were to hazard a few basic elements of a good story, we might come up with a list like the following:

• A cohesive plot that includes an arc
• Strongly defined, unique characters who are capable of growth
• A defined space for the action
• A protagonist, and better yet a protagonist on a quest
• An antagonist or setting for conflict
• A moral that is true (and thus beautiful and good), even if the moral is complicated, ironic, or inconclusive

I should note that the Santa myth has numerous antecedents. I don’t want to get into this theory of the ‘shroomed out, Coca-Cola crafted Santa, though, and we are also going to ignore Sinterklaas, Father Christmas, and St. Nicholas to focus on the Kris Kringle of Santa Claus Is Coming to Town vintage. The Eddie Cantor song of 1934 and Fred Astaire narrated stop-motion movie of 1970 is the version that has soaked into pop culture.

Let’s engage in some comparative mythology!

Plot

The plot of Santa Claus Is Coming to Town is summarized here. The film connects the dots of various Christmas traditions by writing an underlying, cohesive myth. The plot does yeoman’s work to fit everything in, but is muddled for the effort. Although quite popular in its time and still screened today, I’m not sure that the plot itself has stood the test of time; subsequent films have taken great liberties in re-writing it without much fuss. The plot is a bit of a dead end, cleverly explaining how Santa came to be in the North Pole and interested in presents, but unable to make a lasting contribution to the tradition.

We don’t see any attempt to rewrite the plot to The Nativity of Our Lord. With its antecedent beginning at the creation of the world itself, the story maintains cosmic explanatory power. There is tremendous background, including dense foreshadowing and symbolism, and it was thousands of years in the making. Our Lord arrives with a purpose, the nail holes already etched in his hands, and he goes forth to leave the world forever changed. In such a manner is the curve of history bent heavenward.

Strong Characters

Some of the Santa characters are more defined than others, and the story is the occasion for a number of “changes of heart.” Other than Santa himself, though, I don’t know that any of them make much of an impression. The elves and reindeer are still around, for sure, but Mrs. Claus, the Mayor, and the Warlock have faded. Perhaps this is why in recent years movies such as Elf have eclipsed the earlier myth with more memorable characters.

The Nativity includes Joseph, who turns away from his intention to leave his betrothed and instead learns the duties and joy of Fatherhood. And of course there is Mary, who cooperates with the divine plan to become the tabernacle of God Incarnate. The Wise Men encounter the God who is all truth and master even of the night sky. Each of these characters has inspired intense devotion, suggesting that they are highly relatable and well described. None leave the story the same as they began it. As we ponder their struggles with welcoming God into their lives, we come to see our lives reflected in theirs. And of course, Our Lord himself continues to be very real to multitudes of people.

A Defined Space

Santa has this in spades, and the creativity of the claymation and fairy-tale setting is what exudes the most appeal in the film. My only critique would be that Santa no longer inhabits that world but has since relocated. When we think about him today, it is very rarely in the context of Sombertown.

The Nativity is set in Bethlehem, a historical place, and in the context of the reign of Emperor Tiberius. It is strange but familiar. For his reason, the story continues to be present to all of us today. It begins where we are and slowly unfolds a whole, wonderful world of miracles and beauty. This is the world in which we live!

A Protagonist On a Quest

Santa is our guy, here. He will deliver toys come hell or high water, and we cannot help but admire his persistence. He will dive down a chimney, get reindeer hopped up on magic corn, whatever it takes! His quest is straightforward, to make the world a little bit happier through the gospel of giving. Unlike the Olympian gods, his activity is not an ironic commentary on fate. Unlike the Roman heroes, his myth is not foundational to a specific culture or a meditation on archaic violence. He simply wants to be nice. Because of its lack of nuance, I don’t see how Santa escapes moralism, still evident in the current insistence that we all believe and stop being scrooges or we are terrible people who hate children. Moralism presented in a didactic manner does not a great story make.

It’s odd, Christianity is often accused of moralism, but the Nativity is far less preachy. Obviously, the God of the Universe arriving in a dank cave and bedding down next to his exhausted mother, dependent on her for sustenance and life, marked with a mission to save the whole world from its sins, whose coming has been the concern of a thousand years of prophecy, for whom an entire people were created and called, makes for a good protagonist. The fate of the world hinges on his actions. Although he knows what he is about, we readers must journey and learn along the way the nature of his true mission. He is a King who becomes a servant, who conquers through defeat, who reveals that God loves the downcast and the humble. Not only does he love them, but he becomes one with them, a victim just like them. This is a protagonist on a quest unlike any other.

 An Antagonist

Santa is opposed by the Winter Warlock and the Mayor of Sombertown. There is certainly something to the redemption of the dark, winter months with the light of generosity. There is also something to be said for maintaining a childlike innocence even as adults. The battle against winter has been won and the Warlock converted. Today, he doesn’t remain a vital part of the tradition and winter has been romanticized by ice skating and snowfall. Adults are still a problem, though, at least according to the movies. Almost every Christmas film concerns a grumpy adult trying to ruin Christmas by failing to share in the spirit of the season.

In the Nativity, the whole world bears down against the coming of the humble Savior. Joseph is concerned about having an illegitimate son, Herod is willing and ready to murder any challengers to his throne, the innkeeper is concerned that his inn not collapse under the weight of too many people. The Sadducees certainly aren’t going to like Jesus, and we even glimpse his impending death in the gifts of the Magi. We also glimpse the manner of his victory in his birth in Bethlehem, the “Bread House,” swaddled in a feeding trough. If he is to be sacrificed, he will in turn feed the world. It is a child who will save the adults, not through a conversion to childish, blind faith, but through a reasonable yet child-like trust in the God who is very real.

A Moral

Is it true that a good boy always prospers, that good behavior earns a reward? Is it beautiful to consider the goal of morality to be material attainments? Is it good behavior if in fact it is undertaken with an ulterior motive? I worry about these questions in relation to Santa. To be fair, though, the movie aims for a different moral:

Poor, misguided folks. They missed the whole point. Lots of unhappiness? Maybe so. But doesn’t Santa take a little bit of that unhappiness away? Doesn’t a smile on Christmas morning scratch out a tear cried on a sadder day? Not much maybe. But what would happen if we all tried to be like Santa and learned to give as only he can give: of ourselves, our talents, our love and our hearts? Maybe we could all learn Santa’s beautiful lesson and maybe there would finally be peace on Earth and good will toward men.

Here is the simple encouragement to generously love. It really isn’t a bad start, but ultimately it is inadequate, the victim of sentimentality. In reality we are not good, we don’t love the way we ought, we let each other down, and we cannot bring peace on earth through our own efforts. The encouragement to try is well received, but we need more. Good stories are not sentimental, because sentiment is shallow and individualistic. Our desires cannot redefine reality any more than the United States Post office giving letters for Santa to a random man can actually make him Santa Claus.

Again, Santa seems like a fun guy to have around and he will always remain a part of the Christmas festivities, but the myth itself shows inadequacies. I went back and forth while I was writing this essay, trying to decide which Santa myth is definitive. The answer seems to be that none is; anecdotally speaking, Santa Claus Is Coming to Town seems to have faded and has been replaced by Polar Express, Will Ferrell’s Elf, and a resurgent Krampus.

Speaking of Will Ferrell, he recently went out of his way to invent a new Santa entirely, telling Jimmy Fallon that Kris Kringle is, “old and lame,” and commenting that reindeer are passé, “Bro, this is the year of the drone.” Santa now spends his time “in Cabo, bro.” listening to a new band called “Smashmouth.” I like the new Santa.

Santa constantly adapts. He follows culture instead of creating it, and because of this he is fun but uninspired. A good myth is not one that we outgrow and subsequently feel guilt about doing so. A good myth is like a song or a poem, endlessly challenging, ever revealing new insights, fascinating on all levels.

The child in the manger continues to grow with us. We are challenged to accept God’s mercy, to grasp salvation not by our own efforts but by divine gift, comforted to know that he has not abandoned us, taught that humility is the path to greatness, shown the beauty of the world through its connection to the Incarnation. We see the simple goodness of Mary, the willingness of God to interact with even the lowliest of shepherds, his cooperation with us in our salvation. Motherhood is venerated. Fatherhood is sanctified. Wisdom is shown to be the persistent, dogged search for God wherever he may be found. There is much truth to ponder, here, and much beauty to be admired. In the Nativity, we have a true story that is challenging, compelling, beautiful and terrifying all at the same time. It is the greatest story ever told.

 

* Some would argue that insisting Santa is real is called Gaslighting.

 

 

 

I first became intrigued by the relationship between “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” the season of Advent, and the O antiphons a few years ago when I chanced to find a Youtube show in which Fr. William George Rutler presented some of this hymn’s rich history. Last year during Advent, I posted ten quotes from this video in “Top Ten Thoughts about Advent from Fr. Rutler.” As this quote from Fr. Rutler said in thought #2 in my post, “The Church has wonderful hymns for Advent, and if we don’t keep Advent, we are going to miss them. We know one very well, and because we’ve lost Advent, we tend to think of it as a Christmas hymn: ‘O Come O Come Emmanuel.’”

Because many additional fascinating details are associated with the origins and history of this hymn, this year I want to dig deeper, and look at where the hymn came from.

Fr. Rutler continued, “The Latin version of ‘O Come O Come Emmanuel,’ which came first, is called ‘Veni, Veni, Emmanuel.’” Corpus Christi Watershed just published a post with the original version of this hymn, which was arranged for two voices, here. A large part of what makes this hymn especially interesting to me is the origin of its verses. Each verse in the hymn is a modified version of one of the seven O antiphons. As Fr. Rutler explained, an antiphon is a short line that precedes a liturgical hymn. The particular collection of antiphons that made their way into the hymn is called the O antiphons for the somewhat prosaic reason that they each begin with an O.
Each night between Dec. 17 and 23, wherever Latin Vespers or the vernacular Evening Prayer are prayed, one of these O antiphons is sung or recited before and after the Magnificat. In the post-Vatican II form of the Mass, each of the O antiphons is also included as the Gospel Acclamation during the Mass of the day. The O antiphons powerfully express the Church’s longing and awe at this time of heightened anticipation, while Advent is coming to a close, and the feast of Christmas approaches.

The Magnificat, of course, is the canticle of Our Lady, which she sang under the inspiration of the Holy Ghost during her visit with her cousin Elizabeth soon after the annunciation. My favorite liturgical scholar from the late 19th century, Dom Prosper Gueranger wrote that these antiphons are sung at the Magnificat, “to show us that the Saviour whom we expect is to come to us by Mary.”

The Church enters today on the seven days which precede the Vigil of Christmas, and which are known in the liturgy under the name of the Greater Ferias. The ordinary of the Advent Office becomes more solemn; the antiphons of the psalms, both for Lauds and the Hours of the day, are proper, and allude expressly to the great coming. Every day, at Vespers, is sung a solemn antiphon, consisting of a fervent prayer to the Messias, whom it addresses by one of the titles given Him in the sacred Scriptures. … The canonical Hour of Vespers has been selected as the most appropriate time for this solemn supplication to our Saviour, because, as the Church sings in one of her hymns, it was in the evening of the world (vergente mundi vespere) that the Messias came amongst us.”

The Catechism of the Catholic Church speaks of Advent as making present the expectation of the Messiah: as we prepare to celebrate His first coming, we also prepare for His second coming.

524 When the Church celebrates the liturgy of Advent each year, she makes present this ancient expectancy of the Messiah, for by sharing in the long preparation for the Saviour’s first coming, the faithful renew their ardent desire for his second coming.”

Messianic Titles

Each of the seven O antiphons starts with one of the names of a Scriptural type of the Messiah. He is the Wisdom of God, the Ruler of the House of Israel, the Root of Jesse, the Key of David, the Dawn, the King of the Nations, and God with us.

And each O antiphon ends by calling out to the Savior to come and to show us the power that is associated with the particular Messianic name that the antiphon uses.

Incidentally, but interestingly, the hymn verses are much shorter than the corresponding antiphons, and the verses are not in the same order as the sequence in which the O antiphons are sung. For one example, the last O antiphon on Dec. 23 is addressed to Emmanuel, which means God with us, while the hymn begins with the verse about Emmanuel.

For a concrete example of the pattern followed each of the O antiphons, following is the antiphon for Dec. 17th. It begins by addressing God as O Sapientia, O Wisdom, then it describes what God’s wisdom does, and it ends with a petition, “come to teach us the way of prudence.”

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem, fortiter suaviter disponensque omnia: veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae.

O Wisdom, that proceedest from the mouth of the Most High, reaching from end to end mightily, and disposing all things sweetly! come and teach us the way of prudence.”

These are the corresponding modified hymn verses.

Veni, O Sapientia, quae hic disponis omnia, veni, viam prudentiae ut doceas et gloriae. R: Gaude! Gaude! Emmanuel, nascetur pro te Israel!

O Come Thou Wisdom from on high, that orderest all things mightily. to us the path of knowledge show, and teach us in your ways to go. R: Rejoice! Rejoice! O Israel, to thee shall come Emmanuel!”

To show how deeply it is possible to delve when exploring the meaning of each antiphon, here is Dom Gueranger’s commentary about this first O antiphon.

O uncreated Wisdom, who art so soon to make Thyself visible to Thy creatures, truly Thou disposest all things. It is by Thy permission that the emperor Augustus issues a decree ordering the enrollment of the whole world. Each citizen of the vast empire is to have his name enrolled in the city of his birth. This prince has no other object in this order, which sets the world in motion, but his own ambition. Men go to and fro by millions, and an unbroken procession traverses the immense Roman world; men think they are doing the bidding of man, and it is God whom they are obeying. This world-wide agitation has really but one object; it is, to bring to Bethlehem a man and woman who live at Nazareth in Galilee, in order that this woman, who is unknown to the world but dear to heaven, and who is at the close of the ninth month since she conceived her Child, may give birth to this Child in Bethlehem; for the Prophet has said of Him: ‘His going forth is from the beginning, from the days of eternity. And thou, O Bethlehem! art not the least among the thousand cities of Juda, for out of thee He shall come.’ O divine Wisdom! how strong art Thou in thus reaching Thine ends by means which are infallible, though hidden; and yet, how sweet, offering no constraint to man’s free-will; and withal, how fatherly, in providing for our necessities! Thou choosest Bethlehem for Thy birth-place, because Bethlehem signifies the house of bread. In this, Thou teachest us that Thou art our Bread, the nourishment and support of our life. With God as our food, we cannot die. O Wisdom of the Father, living Bread that hast descended from heaven, come speedily into us, that thus we may approach to Thee and be enlightened by Thy light, and by that prudence which leads to salvation.”

Bringing the O Antiphons Home

Many Catholics are becoming interested in including the O antiphons as part of their Advent preparations, by singing or reciting or listening to recordings (or doing all of these things) between Dec. 17 and 23. Everyone can find renewed inspiration at the end of Advent by praying the O antiphons as a countdown to the great feast that is to come. Numerous craft ideas to reinforce their significance for children are available on the Internet, for example here and this excellent one here.

ERO CRAS: I Will Be Tomorrow

My middle school Latin students were greatly impressed with this tidbit about the O antiphons, so I suspect other children will be too. The initials of the first words of the O antiphons form an acrostic when you reverse them: ERO CRAS.

This is understood as Christ saying to us, “I will be tomorrow.” I don’t know about you, but that gives me goose bumps.

 

 

 

 

Bringing the O Antiphons to Facebook

I’ve gotten in the habit of breaking my self-imposed Facebook fast for Advent in honor of the O antiphons. Starting on Dec. 17, I post a link on my Facebook wall each day until Dec. 23; the link goes to a post about the O antiphon of the day from The New Liturgical Movement website. I admire the way the NLM posts about the O antiphons concisely brought together the Latin, the English, a link to the sung antiphon, and how they also provide a lovely image for each. Here are the links in case you might want to use them yourself.

• 12/17 O Sapientia
• 12/18 O Adonai
• 12/19 O Radix Jesse
• 12/20 O Clavis David
• 12/21 O Oriens
• 12/22 O Rex Gentium
• 12/23 O Emmanuel

Slowly but surely, Advent is making a comeback. It may not seem so in the culture at large, where it would appear we’d be just as well moving Christmas to August. However, as the consumerism of the season turns into self-parody, many are longing for a more meaningful celebration. The result is that Advent has been getting more press time.

Unfortunately, once the family has put up an Advent wreath and sung a couple of rounds of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” a disturbing thought creeps in: now what? In other words, how should one live Advent other than by saying it’s not Christmas yet? Advent is indeed meant to be a season of penitence. Seeking silence, giving to charity, and going to confession are all practices I strongly endorse. But Advent is also supposed to be a season of longing, of looking forward to Our Lord’s return by getting excited about his liturgical coming at Christmas. For that, we need practices that fill us with expectation. We need traditions.

Unfortunately, given Advent’s long neglect, most families don’t have any, which is where this post comes in.

If you were reading our blog last year, you probably know where this is going (in fact, the rest of this post may seem really familiar). The great thing about being Catholic is that the Church is truly universal, and where traditions are lacking we can look to the broader Catholic world for guidance. I’d like to share with you what I consider perhaps the most meaningful of the Advent traditions I grew up with in Colombia, the Advent Novena, in the hopes that you may be able to incorporate it into your Advent celebrations as well.

What is the Advent Novena?

Not quite what you think. Like all other novenas, the Advent novena comprises a set of prayers to be said during nine days, but it is also much more. The novena is light, friendship, song. It is, in a sense, a perfect balance of everything truly human, the sacred and the secular brought together in effortless harmony. Starting on December 16th, families, friends, and neighbors begin gathering every night to count down the days until Christmas. There are carols, holiday dishes, prayers, meditations, and companionship.

The way it usually works is that people gather for the novena sometime around 7:00 or 8:00 p.m. After ever everyone is settled in, the host for the day begins prayers (if several families are participating, usually hosting duties are rotated day to day), and once these are done, people sing their favorite Advent or Christmas carols (bringing some instruments, even just very basic noisemakers, is definitely a plus!).

After getting in a good session of caroling, it is time to eat! Colombians like to break out the natilla (a custard dish) and buñuelos (fried cheesy breads). I’ll be providing recipes in case you’re feeling adventurous, but feel free to celebrate with your own favorites. After this point, people usually just sit and chat, sign more songs, eat (and on occasion even dance) until bedtime. And then the next day, you do it all over again!

Isn’t it a bit much to do this for nine days straight?

Yes, and no. As I said, ideally you’ll find at least a couple of more households who are willing to rotate hosting duties. And you don’t have to do the full thing every night–feel free to just do some nights quietly with your own family, or just by yourself if you live alone. But try to stick with it all nine days, and to make it as communal as possible. By the end of it, you will feel truly ready for Christmas, and the day will not seem like a blur that just comes and goes, but rather as the culmination of a process of preparation.

So where do I get the prayers?

During the past few years, a couple of translations into English have started popping up on the Internet. Unfortunately, they are not very good (sometimes I wonder if they’re not the product of Google Translate). One part that is almost entirely lost in these translations is a section made up of short rhyming verses inspired by the “O Antiphons” from the Liturgy of the Hours. It’s a truly delightful section, theologically rich and yet always a favorite with kids, but prose translations simply don’t do it justice. For these reasons, I’ve decided to come up with my own translation, the link to which you can find below.

If organizing a gathering of friends for the 16th is short notice, just start at home on your own, but I encourage you to pick at least one day or two this Advent to actually host a gathering. Several people tried it last year and wrote to say they had loved it. Do let us know in the comments section if you decide to take up this tradition.

Happy Advent!

Click here for the text of the novena.