
1 DEC
“I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word, I put my hope.”
It seems a cold, silent place where I stand. My old philosopher chums say the Word is in everything – in every fallen stone, dead leaf, encounter with hooded passers-by. The lights are out, though. Is the Word in me? Have I forgotten it’s light? That’s my fault.
I need to remember Christmas. Mary held God in little space, as the old song says. In those months of waiting she was Creation bearing the word – everything – stones, leaves, wanderers, journeys.
If I remember the light of that birth I know that everything is reborn– was reborn and will be if we remember – this place where I stand will be the gateway to heaven – everything that is this place and myself ( or you) as part of it – not waiting for a gift but giving the gift of the remembered light within us.
We’ll hear the angels. The oxen will speak.
Andrew Baker TSSF
European Province
RISE EARLY AND OFFER YOUR DAY
Wake up just a little earlier than usual today.
In the quiet of the morning, light a candle and sit in God’s presence.
Offer the day ahead as a gift to Christ. Ask: “How can my life prepare a way for the Lord today?”
Let this early moment be your own Simbang Gabi.
Your step toward the manger, sanctifying your ordinary life through intention and love.
“Let us make a dwelling place within ourselves where he may stay, he who is the Lord God almighty, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”
St. Francis of Assisi,
(Letter to the Entire Order)
Emmanuel,
God-with-us,
Awaken my heart
in the quiet morning.
Make me ready to welcome you
in every task, every person,
every breath.
Let my life be a candle
lit with hope,
shining even in the waiting.
Simbang Gabi, a cherished Filipino tradition, is a nine-day spiritual journey of early morning Masses leading up to Christmas.
As dawn breaks, communities gather in candlelit churches, their breath visible in the cool air, voices lifted in song and prayer.
This novena of devotion expresses deep longing and joyful expectation for Christ’s coming.
Rooted in agricultural rhythms and communal faith, it blends sacrifice with celebration, drawing people closer to God and one another.
Each Mass becomes a step toward the manger – an invitation to prepare the heart, awaken the soul, and make room for Emmanuel, God with us, in daily life.
“And the Word became flesh and lived among us.”
The second trimester begins and a new season for the God carrier and child. Now about the size of a peach, a face with distinct features, growing vocal cords, and even the beginning of fingerprints. Bones are hardening, ribs are forming, and tiny movements—sucking, swallowing, flexing—are already underway, even if not yet felt.
This sacred becoming unfolds in secret.
Hidden from view, life takes shape in a womb of shelter, silence, and love.
So too, Mary carries Christ quietly. Her womb becomes a waiting room of holy flesh. Love is not only a feeling but the space we make. A shelter. A choice to trust, to hold, to protect—even in the dark.
The Word becomes flesh, not in public triumph, but in the stillness of a mother’s waiting
I wonder what it means to grow faith and our relationship with God in secret, like the baby in the womb
I wonder what kind of shelter Mary offered to Jesus before he was born
I wonder how we can be womb-like – offering space, warmth, and hope to other.
If you keep an Advent Journal, here are some ideas you could write about;
Take a moment to reflect: Where in my life does it feel like “the lights are out”?
What helps me remember the light – within myself, in others, in creation? What would it mean to wait not for a gift, but to become one?
Now write:
“Today, I choose to remember the light by…”
Let this be an act of hope – a way of carrying the Word within you, as Mary did.