Greeting from the Director of Oblates

With the beginning of Advent on November 29, just three days after Thanksgiving Day according to the 2020 calendar, the predominant symbol presented to Christians is probably that of the Advent wreath.  Although the wreath and its four candles may not broadcast the idea of ‘waiting’ or ‘anticipation’ as clearly as, say, an Advent calendar, I think it’s a more ubiquitous advertisement for Advent. Maybe it’s because my family never had an Advent calendar when I was growing up, but we always had an Advent wreath. 

This quiet, somber season of shorter days, bare branches and purple vestments doesn’t quite lend itself to as many exciting visual images, either religious or secular, of what awaits us at Christmas and Epiphany. For Christmas, graphic designers of greeting cards and church bulletins have all manner of inspiration to call upon for their artwork.  Picture the Advent wreath pitted against the magnificent Christmas star and humble stable, hovering angels and earthbound shepherds and sheep.  Or come Epiphany, think of the image of the simple wreath up against the very exciting idea of camels and cool gifts and exotic regal garb of the Magi. 

Speaking of the comparison of holiday images, a recent errand to the local Rite-Aid to stock up on Hanukkah cards for close friends found me deciding between cards with menorahs on them or cards with dreidels. It’s the thought and prayers that count.

Even though most Catholic dioceses nationwide still prohibit church bulletins and other paper goods among the congregation, we began a limited run of printed copies of The Current last week, primarily for our homebound oblates who lack computers.  These copies go out in the mail, but we are still not permitted to disseminate them in our church vestibule.  Regardless of how you view the publication, whether online or in print, you may have noticed that we, too, used a photograph of an Advent wreath as an overture to the season.

It is heartening to know that several of our school families and others make the wreath a part of their tradition. Growing up decades ago, my family had a simple brass wreath frame as the dinner table centerpiece which held four tapers (3 purple and 1 rose-colored), all of which most likely came from the downtown shop called The Catholic Guild, a small-town version of our local Tally’s in Cranston.  The Catholic Guild is now gone, as is the 19^th-century neo-Tudor storefront which housed it, but the same wreath is still in use by the family of one of my three brothers. That wire frame came supplied with a wreath of plastic greenery but we “spruced” it up every week with fresh pine sprigs, holly and berries and small pine cones. 

We use the same method here at the abbey church.  A basic live wreath comes from Carlone’s Florist on the east side of the Island and we augment it over the 4 weeks with fresh greens from the campus. If you haven’t yet had the pleasure of adopting this Advent tradition, I highly recommend it. It can be as simple or as elaborate as you make it. Again, remember, it’s the thought and prayers that count.

According to Fr. Charles Bober, a parish administrator in Western Pennsylvania and an instructor at St. Vincent’s College and Seminary, the tradition of the Advent wreath is a Western invention and does not appear in liturgies of the Eastern churches. He says that originally Advent was a six-week period of preparation when baptism at Epiphany existed. Advent vestments at one time were white, the Gloria was sung and the season had none of the penitential tone as Lent. With the fusion of various churches and customs over the centuries, Advent has become a time of quiet anticipation.

Fr. Edward and I lived at the monastery of Sant’ Anselmo atop the Aventine Hill in Rome, but at separate time periods. The large refectory, or dining hall, was graced with an Advent wreath at the evening meals every December, a family meal of sorts, albeit a family of over 100 ‘brothers’ or more. Years before that, I designed, constructed and installed a hanging wreath which measured 8-feet in diameter in the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis, my home parish (and one of the three “must-see-churches” on my recent list for The Current). Symbolizing never-ending eternity, it’s clear that the Advent wreath will be a part of my life for many more years to come.