The opening prayer of Advent asks God for “resolve to run forth to meet your Christ.” The First Reading bids “Come, let us climb the Lord’s mountain.” It sounds as if we’ll need a lot of energy and stamina between now and Christmas. But don’t rest up for the journey. Habitually we’re told to “awake from sleep.” Actually, we’re to “make no provisions for the desires of the flesh.” Why so much running? Why so little sleeping? Why can’t we pamper our bodies a little? Well, it’s just that stage in the world’s history. Christ has already come as the Head of Creation. Christ is always coming in the ordinary stuff of life—like the eating and drinking mentioned in the Gospel. But the focus?  Christ will be coming! We’re called to the future. We’re called to live an eschatological way of life. What does that mean? Make a better future. Try to make this time look more like the end times at the Second Coming. How so? The Scriptures say nothing about Heifer International, research for cures, making food baskets, caroling in nursing homes. Or does it? Isn’t that Advent’s outcome? You gave food and money and a helping hand. Come, inherit the Kingdom, because you made every moment a chance to meet Christ now and in his return.

In our earthly liturgy (Sunday Mass) we participate in the heavenly liturgy, incipiently sharing in the liturgy and life of the blessed in heaven. How can we experience this wondrous connection? In every Mass we are made one with all the saints and angels, transcending time and space. “No eye has seen,” but our connection with the banquet of heaven is real. “The hymn of praise that Christ places within the heart and on the lips of the Church will be sung at the end of time in all its fullness, when all the members gather at the wedding feast of the Lamb in the heavenly Jerusalem. That same hymn is sung today by the Church whenever the liturgy is celebrated. For every time the Church gathers for prayer, she is joined to Christ’s priesthood…. The sacred liturgy is a window to eternity and a glimpse of what God calls us to be” (Built of Living Stones 14-15).

Jesus Christ is the First and Best Sacrament. From his life, death, and resurrection (Paschal Mystery) comes all grace, our salvation. While Christ established the Kingdom, he let it up to us, the People of God, to dispense this grace. The Church (we) do this in many ways. (Actually we live in grace.) Our seven sacraments are based on the life of Jesus, who healed, forgave, gave his Body and Blood for spiritual food, and so on. From Jesus’ actions the Church provided the words and symbols of the sacraments. After all, Jesus left no Roman Missals in the hands of the Eleven. Rather, Jesus gave his Holy Spirit, who guided the apostles and their successors down the course of history. Through them and continuing today in our Pope and bishops, the rituals and names of the sacraments may change. For example, we used to say Extreme Unction, now we say Anointing of the Sick. The essence has not changed gives grace.

I prefer spontaneity to routine, but both have their merits. While routine allows the chance to focus on the present, spontaneity adds an unexpected energizing spark to the day. Plans may have to be shelved for a while, but returning to those plans after a spontaneous break seems very beneficial. Today I said to the two sisters with whom I live, “Let’s pack some fruit, cheese and crackers and go to the “lake.” (Well, it’s not really a lake, but we call it that.) Within a few minutes we had a picnic packed and headed for Lake Lial, the property in Whitehouse, Ohio, that serves as a retreat center, school, and home for 40 sisters. It was an unusually warm, beautiful day for October. Who wouldn’t want to be outside? We loved the colorful trees at their peak of brilliance, the lapping of the lake, the crunch of leaves. Yet I think we loved the spontaneity more.

November 6 is National Vocations Awareness Day. A vocation is a call from God usually supported by a call from the community to do something special for God and the Church. Generally we speak of three vocations: the married life, the single life, and the life of someone consecrated to God as a priest, sister, brother, or deacon. Within these states of life we have our own personal vocation, that is, our personal call from God to live the life of Christ in a specific way. In our personal vocation we have our own particular way to talk to God and respond to God, as well as a particular work to do for God’s Church. Sometimes this personal vocation can be summed up in a line of Scripture. Which line of the Bible fits you the best? Because vocations are often sparked by encouragement from the community, give affirmation to young persons about their qualities that the Church needs.  “You’d make a great lector.” “Have you ever considered becoming a priest or deacon?” “I’m impressed by your reverence when serving.”

Across the street are several trees that form a rainbow. The top stripe is red, the next one is yellow, and the bottom stripe is green. The stripes curve somewhat on both sides, forming a rainbow arc. If rainbows bring luck—but I haven’t asked my neighbors if I could find the pot of gold probably behind the recycle bin—then I am very lucky to have a window facing such a phenomenon.

The Solemnity of All Saints Day on November 1 is a day that honors all those in heaven. Throughout the year we have many feasts of individual saints who are “canonized” or “listed” among the blessed. How did these saints get on the Church calendar? When Christ established the Kingdom, he didn’t hand out lectionaries, Roman Missals, and Church calendars. The days and seasons of the Church Year took centuries, and they continue to change with new saints being added. The original Church Year (calendar) had only Sundays and one whopping Sunday called Easter. Eventually, some anniversaries of the martyrs’ deaths (their “birthdays” into heaven) began to dot the calendar. These saints were remembered annually and continue to be. All who are living or have lived the life of Christ through their baptism are saints. Consider writing on a calendar the death dates of your loved ones. Throughout the year remember them on their special days. Put them all together to write your own Litany of Saints.

Do you play Wordle? My daily text message to my youngest sister includes a word like “splendid” or “great” or “phew” to let her know how I fared on the New York Times popular game. Although the game is fun, that’s not the only reason I play. I prefer the communication with my sister, which is precious to me. Today I had all the letters right, but they didn’t make a word. I had to rearrange them. Easy enough.

 Are there other things in our lives that are all the right stuff, but they need some re-arranging? For example, I may have correct information, but I may need to soften the message for the sake of the recipient. I may aim to do good deeds, but the timing isn’t in the best interest of others. We have strong personality traits, but there’s a time and place to abandon those characteristics in our day-to-day encounters. We have our agendas, but we may encounter a million things that are more important now. Just as rearranging letters leads to Wordle success, rearranging our thoughts, words, and actions may produce successful outcomes.

Going somewhere?  Of course! We’re all on our journey of life into eternal life. Recently when I took a plane trip, I decided to take only a backpack. Of course, this meant only the necessities. On your journey to eternal life what would you pack? What do you consider essential? Here are a few things I consider essential.     First, I’d pack my good deeds. According to Matthew’s gospel, the Last Judgment is all based on works of mercy—those accomplished and those never done. Then I’d pack liturgical prayer. As a liturgical musician now and a teacher of liturgy in the past, I have hours to my credit. God will certainly see the work of liturgy—and leitourgia means public work–and say “Come on in!” Third, I’d pack my daily personal prayer. Its quantity may be to my benefit, but quality may make a very light backpack. Last, I’d squeeze in lots of stuff—I hope the right stuff. You know, the ordinary tasks of work and play, family and community life, and all the little human things that may be worthy of a ticket to heaven.

 I realize I can’t take the backpack with me. And maybe the contents won’t matter a whole lot either. When I stand before the throne of God, does God see something of the Godself in me? The face of God shining upon me may be the only item needed to hear “Come! You have my Father’s blessings! Inherit the kingdom.”

Does anything surpass the pleasure of time spent with a best friend? Those blessed minutes and hours let us luxuriate in complete relaxation. Friends just be. Whether dining in a restaurant or eating popcorn during a Netflix, walking a rocky trail or sifting sand through toes, sharing a worry or snickering over a joke, sharing a book or reminiscing, it’s all the same. Just enjoy the friendship. Just be. That’s the best.