From the Friars: Again I Say, Rejoice!

My paternal grandparents had six sons in the military during World War II, my father being one of them. He was on a bomber crew that flew missions out of England. Once my dad showed up at home unexpectedly, to the great delight of his parents and siblings. A newspaper ran a short article about the event with a staged photo of young smiling Rudy tapping on the window while his mother is writing a letter inside.

Thank God my father and all his brothers made it home safely from the war, though some definitely carried the trauma of the horrors of so much destruction and killing. I’m sure that my grandmother, a devout Catholic, prayed many rosaries for her boys. And no doubt having one of them make a surprise visit must have brought tears of joy.

How powerful is the presence of one we love after a long separation. The intense joy of simply being with that person, just looking at them, remains long in our memory. It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. How much greater should our rejoicing be when we are with the One Whom we love above all things. We can become frustrated in our faith because it seems that God is far away. But part of this mystery is that the apparent separation allows our desire to see Him grow, as will our joy in finally entering into the Beatific Vision.

 

This happiness is why today, the Third Sunday of Advent, is called Gaudete Sunday. This Latin word comes from the introit, or entrance antiphon, for the Mass (Phil 4:4-5) and means “Rejoice!” It is expressed also in the Psalm from Isaiah 12: “Cry out with joy and gladness: for among you is the great and Holy One of Israel.” Emmanuel, God with us, has come, is coming, and is here. The Liturgy forms our soul according to what is real, true and good. If “to be near God is my happiness” (Ps 73:28) and “if you find your delight in the Lord, – He will grant your heart’s desire.” (Ps 37:4)

Let us learn from the love of our mothers and grandmothers, especially the one on her way to Bethlehem.

–Fr. Peter