Prepare Ye the Way . . . but for what?

It seems that my preparation is always better than my celebration.

I don't mean that I don't know how to celebrate, and I'm not talking about my personal life. For things like family feast days, I've actually gotten pretty good at getting the groundwork laid and being able to enjoy the moment.

But when it comes to the great liturgical seasons, it seems as if my Advent and Lent are better spiritually than my Christmas and Easter seasons are. My rhythm of prayer in those seasons of preparation and repentance is more consistent and effective.

So this morning I found myself revisiting for the first time this year the words that the Church shares with us in the Office of Readings for the feast of the Holy Family, which we celebrated on Sunday. I was so caught up in the flurry of Christmas activity and unimportant things that I have neglected coming to where God wants me to spend time daily. I was concerned I'd missed something important from this wonderful feast day, and so I turned to the reading by Pope Paul VI, written in 1964, in which he discusses the lessons of Nazareth for us:

First, we learn from its silence. If only we could once again appreciate its great value. We need this wonderful state of mind, beset as we are by the cacophony of strident protests and conflicting claims so characteristic of these turbulent times. The silence of Nazareth should teach us how to meditate in peace and quiet, to reflect on the deeply spiritual, and to be open to the source of God's inner wisdom and the counsel of his true teachers. Nazareth can teach us the value of study and preparation, of meditation, of a well-ordered personal spiritual life, and of silent prayer that is known only to God.

Even as I enter into prayer before the light of the Christmas tree, my mind tends to be more enamored of such words of truth and my response to them, rather than the simple presence of God, into which they are meant to carry me. So now I turn from capturing my own thoughts, to simply soak in God's presence for a too-brief moment before moving on to my work day.