Come Lord Jesus Series: Saturday of Third Week of Advent Year A

 Come Lord Jesus Series

Advent Wreath Come Lord Jesus series Icon.

Saturday — Third Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“Come, O Lord, visit us in peace,

that we may rejoice before You with a blameless heart.”

(cf. Psalm 24:3; Psalm 85:8)

Reflection

As the third week of Advent draws to a close, the Church once again places on our lips a simple, trusting prayer: “Come, O Lord.”
The repetition is intentional. By now, Advent has moved us beyond curiosity and anticipation into desire. We are no longer asking if the Lord will come, but how we might receive Him more fully.

The prayer asks for a visitation — not a passing moment, not a fleeting consolation, but a presence that enters and remains. When God visits His people in Scripture, something always changes. Peace settles where there was restlessness. Clarity emerges where there was confusion. Strength is given where weakness was felt. Advent teaches us to ask not for dramatic signs, but for this quiet, transforming nearness.

“Visit us in peace.”  Peace here is not merely calm or comfort. It is wholeness — the restoration of right relationship with God, with others, and within ourselves. As Christmas approaches, the temptation can be to rush, to push, to manage everything perfectly. This antiphon gently resists that impulse. It reminds us that true readiness comes not from control, but from peace received.

The fruit of this visitation is beautifully named: “that we may rejoice before You.”  By Week Three, Advent joy has matured. It is no longer the sudden lift of Gaudete Sunday alone, but a steadier joy rooted in trust. To rejoice “before” the Lord is to stand honestly in His presence, without pretence, without fear, knowing that He comes in mercy.

And finally: “with a blameless heart.”  This is not perfection. It is simplicity. A blameless heart is one that is turned toward God, willing, open, and ready to receive. Advent does not demand flawlessness; it invites orientation — a heart facing the Lord.

As we stand on the threshold of the final days of Advent, this prayer gathers everything we have learned:
Come.
Visit.
Bring peace.
Awaken joy.
Unify the heart.

Week Three of Advent — A Short Reflection & Review

Week Three of Advent has been marked by joy deepening into confidence.
We have heard heaven and earth rejoice, we have been comforted by God’s mercy, we have been reminded that Christ our King comes as the Lamb, and we have been assured that He who is to come will not delay. Fear has been named — and gently loosened — as the Saviour draws near.

This week has asked us not only to rejoice, but to trust.  Trust is to  trust God’s timing and to trust His way of coming.
To trust that peace is possible even before everything is resolved.

As we prepare to enter the final, most intense days of Advent, the invitation is to simplify and  to let go of what clutters the heart so that Christ may be welcomed with freedom and joy.

Spiritual Review Question — Week Three:

Where has joy or peace grown in me this week, and what might I need to release so that my heart can be fully ready for the Lord who comes?

Let the answer be gentle.
Advent is almost complete.
The Lord is very near.

 

.Come, Lord Jesus.

 

Come Lord Jesus Series: Friday Third Week of Advent Year A

 Come Lord Jesus Series.

Advent Wreath: Come Lord Jesus series Icon.

Friday — Third Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“He who is to come will come and will not delay,

and now there will be no fear within our land,

for He is our Saviour.”

(cf. Hebrews 10:37)

Reflection

Advent now speaks with unmistakable urgency. Today’s Entrance Antiphon does not invite speculation or prolonged waiting; it makes a firm declaration: “He who is to come will come and will not delay.” The season has been preparing us for this moment — and now the Church assures us that God’s coming is neither uncertain nor postponed. What has been promised is about to be fulfilled.

The letter to the Hebrews reminds us that God’s timing is purposeful and exact. What feels like delay to the human heart is, in truth, divine patience — the careful preparation of a people ready to receive salvation. Advent insists that God is never late. He comes at the moment when hope has been refined, when longing has been clarified, and when hearts are sufficiently open to recognise Him.

The antiphon then announces a striking consequence of His coming: “there will be no fear within our land.” Fear has been a quiet companion throughout human history — fear of loss, fear of suffering, fear of the unknown, fear of being forgotten. Advent does not deny the reality of fear, but it boldly proclaims that fear does not have the final word. When Christ draws near, fear loosens its grip.

This is not because circumstances suddenly become easy or predictable. It is because fear cannot coexist with the presence of the Savior. Christ does not come to eliminate every difficulty, but to anchor us so deeply in God’s love that fear no longer governs our choices or defines our future.

The final line brings everything into focus: “for He is our Saviour.”
Not a distant helper.  Not a temporary comfort.
Our Saviour.

This is the heart of Advent faith. We are not saved by our vigilance, our preparation, or our spiritual effort. We are saved by His coming. As Christmas approaches, the Church gently but firmly shifts our attention away from ourselves and back to Him.

He will come.  He will not delay.  Fear will not prevail.

Because He is our Saviour.

Practice for Today:

Name one fear you are carrying into these final days before Christmas.
Pray simply:
“Jesus, You are my Saviour. I place this fear in Your hands.”

Come Lord Jesus series: Thursday Third Week of Advent

 Come Lord Jesus Series

Advent Wreath: Come Lord Jesus series Icon.

Thursday — Third Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“Christ our King is coming;

He is the Lamb foretold by John.”

Reflection

Advent now turns our gaze very deliberately toward the person of Christ Himself. Today’s Entrance Antiphon makes no attempt to soften or generalise the mystery: “Christ our King is coming.” The Church names Him plainly. The child we await is not only gentle and vulnerable; He is King — the one to whom all authority belongs, the one before whom every heart must eventually bow.

Yet this kingship is immediately defined in an unexpected way: “He is the Lamb foretold by John.” Advent refuses to separate glory from humility. Christ comes as King, but He comes as Lamb — the Lamb proclaimed by John the Baptist, the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. His reign is not one of domination, but of self-giving love. His throne will be a cross; His crown will be of thorns.

By placing these two images side by side, the liturgy teaches us how to recognise Christ when He comes. If we expect power without sacrifice, we will miss Him. If we look only for gentleness without authority, we will misunderstand Him. Advent trains the heart to hold both together: majesty and meekness, sovereignty and surrender.

John the Baptist stands quietly behind this antiphon. He does not draw attention to himself. He points. He names. He prepares the way by teaching us how to see rightly. As Advent nears its end, the Church begins to speak more clearly, more urgently: this is who is coming. Not a vague hope, not a comforting symbol — but Christ, King and Lamb, Savior and Judge, mercy and truth united in one person.

This antiphon also asks something of us. If Christ is King, then our lives are not our own. If He is Lamb, then the way of discipleship will involve humility, patience, and love that costs something. Advent joy deepens here into commitment. Rejoicing gives way to readiness.

We are no longer simply waiting.
We are preparing to receive Him.

Practice for Today:
Pray slowly:
“Jesus, my King and my Lamb,
teach me to recognise You as You truly are.”

 

 Come Holy Spirit Series

Come Holy Spirit.

Come Holy Spirit — Gift of the Most High

Introduction

Each week, we continue our journey of encountering the Holy Spirit through a specific name or title. These are not merely poetic labels, but windows into the mystery of the Spirit's presence and work within us. Today, we meditate on the name: Gift of the Most High.

1. What Does This Title Mean?

The title Gift of the Most High captures a profound truth: the Holy Spirit is not something we earn, manufacture, or control. The Spirit is a gift — freely given by God the Father, the “Most High.”

This name is rooted in the ancient understanding of God as transcendent, majestic, and holy — the One above all creation. And from that place of majesty, God stoops down in love and bestows upon us the supreme gift: His own Spirit.

Jesus echoes this in Luke 11:13:

"If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!"

The Holy Spirit is not a tool or a feeling, but the very life of God — poured out generously, lavishly, and lovingly into our hearts.

 

2. Why Is the Holy Spirit Called a Gift?

A gift implies generosity, grace, and the goodness of the giver. When something is a gift:

• It is not earned.
• It is not possessed.
• It is not forced.
• It is received in love.

The Holy Spirit is the Gift of gifts — a divine person given to us so that we may be united to God, transformed from within, and empowered to live as sons and daughters of the Kingdom. This gift is not a one-time event but a continual outpouring. Every moment we open our hearts anew, the Spirit is given again.

The Church speaks of the Spirit as “the first gift of the Resurrection.” At Pentecost, that promise was fulfilled. And in every generation, that gift continues — not because we are worthy, but because God delights to give of Himself.

 

3. Scriptural Foundations

This name is echoed throughout Scripture, even if not always in these exact words. Here are some key verses that support the understanding of the Spirit as a gift:

Acts 2:38 – “Repent and be baptized… and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.”
Romans 5:5 – “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
1 Corinthians 2:12 – “We have received… the Spirit who is from God, that we might understand the things freely given us by God.”
John 14:16 – “I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, to be with you forever.”
4. How Do We Respond to This Gift?

The proper response to a gift is gratitude — not just a polite thank you, but a life lived in joyful response.

To receive the Holy Spirit fully, we must cultivate:

Openness: A willingness to be surprised, stretched, and transformed.
Humility: A recognition that we are not the source of our own sanctity.
Obedience: A readiness to follow where the Spirit leads, even when it challenges our comfort.
Love: A desire to live not for ourselves, but for the One who gave us this precious gift.

Let us never forget: the Gift of the Most High is not a thing to be used, but a Person to be loved.

5. For Prayer and Reflection

• Do I approach the Holy Spirit as a true gift, or do I sometimes treat the Spirit like a spiritual power to be used?
• How might I make more room in my heart to receive this Gift more deeply?
• In what ways can I live today with a spirit of gratitude for the Gift of the Most High?

You might like to pray:

Come Holy Spirit, Gift of the Most High.
Open my heart to receive You more fully.
Help me to live in constant gratitude and surrender,
that my life may become a gift back to You. Amen.

 

Moments with the Gospel Series: The Genealogy of Jesus and Advent

 Moments s with the Gospel

Moments with the Gospel Icon.

The Genealogy of Jesus according to Matthew.

Matthew 1:1–17 can feel dry at first glance, but in Advent it is quietly profound.

 

1. Advent begins with history, not sentiment

Advent does not begin with angels or shepherds in Matthew.
It begins with a list of names.  Advent is not about a vague spiritual hope.
It is about God entering real human history.  This genealogy says:

God did not drop Jesus into the world like a miracle detached from time. He arrived through generations, families, decisions, failures, and faithfulness.  Advent is about waiting for God in the middle of ordinary, messy human life.

2. God keeps His promises — slowly, faithfully

Matthew structures the genealogy in three sets of fourteen generations:

• Abraham → David
• David → the Exile
• The Exile → Christ

This is a long story of:

• promise
• kingship
• collapse
• waiting
• apparent silence

Advent lives in that tension.

The genealogy proclaims:

God’s promises may take centuries, but they are never forgotten.

Advent trains us to trust God when fulfillment feels delayed.

 

3. The genealogy tells the truth about humanity

This is not a “clean” family tree.

Matthew deliberately includes:

• Tamar – scandal and injustice
• Rahab – a foreigner and prostitute
• Ruth – a Moabite outsider
• Bathsheba – sin, abuse of power, brokenness
• Mary : the mother of Jesus.

These names should not be there by conventional standards.

Yet Advent says:  God does not wait for perfect people before He comes.

Jesus is born into human sin, not after it is cleaned up.  This is deeply Advent:

• light entering darkness
• holiness entering brokenness

 

4. Jesus comes as the fulfillment, not a replacement

Matthew opens with:

“The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.”

This signals:

• Abraham → promise to bless all nations
• David → promise of an everlasting king

Advent is not about something new replacing the old.
It is about fulfillment.  Jesus is the “yes” to every waiting, longing, and unanswered prayer in Israel’s story.

Advent reminds us: God finishes what He begins.

5. Joseph’s quiet faith prepares the way

The genealogy ends not with Joseph as father, but as:

“the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born”

This prepares us for humility, obedience, and faith without understanding of Joseph.  Advent forms us like Joseph trusting God’s work even when it disrupts our plans and making room for Christ in uncertainty

6. What this means for us in Advent

Meditating on this genealogy in Advent invites us to ask:

• Where am I waiting for God to act slowly, faithfully, quietly?
• Where has God been working across years or generations that I didn’t notice?
• Do I believe God can bring Christ into my imperfect story?

Advent does not ask us to be ready. It asks us to be available.

 

A simple Advent prayer from this text

Lord,
You came through long years of waiting,
through broken families and imperfect faith.
Come now into my own story,
into what feels unfinished and unresolved.
Fulfil Your promises in me,
in Your time.
Amen.

 

Lord Jesus Series: Wednesday Third Week Advent

 Come Lord Jesus Series.

Advent Wreath: Come Lord Jesus series icon

Wednesday — Third Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“Rejoice, O heavens, and exult, O earth;

for the Lord has comforted His people

and will have mercy on His afflicted.”

(cf. Isaiah 49:13)

Reflection

As Advent moves deeper into joy, today’s Entrance Antiphon widens the invitation dramatically: “Rejoice, O heavens, and exult, O earth.”
This is not quiet, private gladness. It is cosmic rejoicing. Heaven and earth are summoned together because what God is doing touches all of creation. Advent joy is never small; it spills outward, drawing everything into its orbit.

The reason for this rejoicing is beautifully tender: “for the Lord has comforted His people.”
Comfort in Scripture is not mere consolation or soothing words. It is the strong, faithful presence of God drawing near to His people in their vulnerability. Isaiah speaks to a people who have known exile, loss, and discouragement — and into that history of suffering, God declares that comfort is coming, because He Himself is coming.

Then the antiphon becomes even more personal: “He will have mercy on His afflicted.”
Advent does not ignore affliction. It names it honestly. But it refuses to let affliction define the future. God’s mercy is not abstract compassion; it is active, restorative love. Mercy bends toward the wounded, the weary, the forgotten, and the struggling. It restores dignity, rekindles hope, and reassures the heart that suffering is not the final word.

This antiphon carries us to the heart of Gaudete’s joy: we rejoice not because everything is resolved, but because God has drawn near in mercy. Joy and mercy are inseparable. When mercy is received, joy awakens. When comfort is known, hope lifts its head.

Notice the tense: “the Lord has comforted His people.”
The prophet speaks as if the work is already done. This is the language of faith — confidence rooted not in circumstances but in God’s promise. Advent teaches us to rejoice in advance, trusting that God’s mercy is already at work, even when we are still waiting for its fullness.

Today’s invitation is simple but profound:
Let yourself be comforted.
Allow mercy to reach you.
And let joy rise — not forced, but received.

Practice for Today:
Pray slowly:
“Lord, comfort me with Your mercy.”
Then notice this notice  this sign of that mercy today. Stop. Breathe and thank God.

Come Lord Jesus Series; Tuesday Third Week of Advent

 Come Lord Jesus Series.

Advent Wreath: Come Lord Jesus series icon

Tuesday — Third Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“The Lord will come and He will not delay;

He will illumine what is hidden in darkness

and reveal Himself to all nations.”

(cf. Habakkuk 2:3; 1 Corinthians 4:5)

(This is one of those antiphons that appears again later in Advent — the repetition is intentional.)

Reflection

As Advent moves closer to its fulfilment, today’s antiphon addresses one of the quiet anxieties that often surfaces in waiting: Is God taking too long?
Into that unspoken question, the liturgy speaks with clarity and reassurance: “The Lord will come and He will not delay.” God’s timing is not hesitant, careless, or forgetful. What feels like delay to us is often preparation — the slow work of grace unfolding beneath the surface.

Advent teaches us that waiting is not wasted time. It is forming time. God comes at the moment when hearts are ready to receive Him — not when everything is resolved, but when openness has been created. The Lord’s coming is always purposeful, always precise.

Then comes a promise that reaches deep into the interior life:
“He will illumine what is hidden in darkness.”
Darkness in Scripture often represents what is unclear, unresolved, or quietly troubling. There are parts of our lives we do not fully understand — patterns we cannot explain, questions without answers, emotions we struggle to name. Advent assures us that God’s light is not threatened by these hidden places. Christ comes precisely to illuminate, not to condemn; to reveal truth gently, not to overwhelm.

And the revelation is not only personal — it is universal:
“He will reveal Himself to all nations.”
Advent’s horizon is always wide. God’s coming is never small or exclusive. What He does in individual hearts is part of His greater work of drawing the whole world toward Himself. Every small illumination, every quiet conversion, every moment of clarity belongs to that larger movement of grace.

As Christmas draws nearer, the Church reminds us that the Lord’s coming brings light — steady, faithful, and timely. Nothing essential is delayed. Nothing important is forgotten.

Practice for Today:
Name one situation that feels unresolved or unclear.
Pray simply:
“Lord, come without delay.
Shine Your light where I cannot yet see.”

 

Come Lord Jesus Series: Monday Third Week Advent

 Come Lord Jesus Series

Advent Wreath: Come Lord Jesus series Icon.

Monday — Third Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“Hear the word of the Lord, O nations;

declare it to the distant lands:

Behold, our Saviour will come;

you need no longer fear.”  (cf. Jeremiah 31:10; Isaiah 35:4)

Reflection

As the third week of Advent unfolds, the tone of the liturgy shifts yet again. The call today is not simply to watch or to rejoice, but to listen: “Hear the word of the Lord.” Advent has been forming our desire, sharpening our sight, awakening joy — and now it asks for something very concrete: attentive hearing.

The invitation is addressed not only to Israel but to the nations. What God is doing is not hidden, private, or exclusive. The good news of Advent is meant to be spoken aloud, carried outward, declared “to the distant lands.” Salvation is not a secret to be guarded; it is a promise to be shared. And the message itself is beautifully simple: “Behold, our Saviour will come.”

Then comes the line that touches the heart most directly: “You need no longer fear.”
Advent is honest about fear. It does not pretend that fear disappears overnight. But it insists that fear does not get the final word. The coming of the Saviour reframes everything. Fear loses its grip when we realise we are not alone, not forgotten, not abandoned to our own strength.

Notice what the antiphon does not say. It does not say that all difficulties will immediately vanish. It does not promise a life free of struggle. Instead, it announces a presence — a Saviour who comes toward us, who enters the very places where fear lives, and who stays.

As we move closer to Christmas, Advent’s message becomes increasingly tender and direct. God does not shout us into courage; He draws near and says, quietly but firmly: Do not be afraid.

This is a word worth hearing again and again — especially in the busy, emotionally charged days leading up to Christmas. The Saviour comes not to add pressure, but to lift burdens. He comes not to judge our readiness, but to bring mercy, peace, and reassurance.

Practice for Today:

When anxiety or hurry arises throughout the day,  take these three steps
1. Stop: Stopping where you are and closing your eyes is crucial.

2. Pause and inhale and exhale  3 slow breaths and then 

3. pray: "Lord, You are coming. I do not need to fear today.”

Come, Lord Jesus.

 

 Collect Series

The Mass: Collect Series icon

The Collect for the 3rd Sunday of Advent Year A reads as follows:

O God who sees how your people 
faithfully await for the feast of the Lord's Nativity
enable us we pray to attain the joys of so great a salvation
and to celebrate them always 
with solemn worship and glad rejoicing.
We make this prayer through our Lord Jesus Christ
who lives and reigns with Him and the Holy Spirit, 
one God for ever and ever.

 
In making this prayer tangible for my life during the week, the following reflections questions emerged:

1. How will I faithfully await for the Lord's Nativity?
2. What are the joys of so great a salvation- what does this mean to me?
3. How do I celebrate these joys always?
4. What does solemn worship mean to me?
5. What might glad rejoicing  be like to me?
6. What will I do this week to maintain a spirit of waiting with joyful expectation?

 

Gospel Reflection

Theme: “Are You the One Who Is to Come?”

 

Setting the Scene

John the Baptist, now imprisoned, hears of Jesus’ deeds and sends his disciples to ask: “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” Jesus responds not with a simple “yes,” but by pointing to His works: the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive good news. These are the signs foretold by Isaiah of the Messiah’s mission.

Jesus then speaks to the crowd about John, affirming his greatness as the prophet who prepared the way, yet declaring that even the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

 

Gospel Reflection: Promises Unfolding

This passage draws us into the mystery of expectation and fulfilment. John, who boldly proclaimed Jesus as the Lamb of God, now wrestles with doubt in prison. His question is honest: “Are you the one?” Advent is often marked by this same tension — longing for God’s promises, but waiting in the dark.

Jesus’ answer is profound: look at the signs. The Kingdom is breaking in. The works of mercy and healing reveal that God’s promises are being fulfilled, even if not in the way John imagined. The Messiah has come not as a warrior to overthrow Rome but as the Servant who restores, heals, and brings life.

For us, too, faith in Advent means recognising God’s presence in unexpected ways. The promise of joy does not mean freedom from hardship — John remains in prison — but the assurance that God’s Kingdom is truly here, even in the midst of struggle.

 

Personal Reflection

I hear John’s question echo in my own life: “Are You the one?” Sometimes I long for God to act more swiftly or more obviously. Yet Jesus points me to the signs of life and healing around me — small but real works of His Kingdom.

Advent joy is not shallow cheerfulness but deep confidence that God is at work, even when I cannot yet see the whole picture. Like John, I am invited to trust that Jesus is indeed the One, and that His works speak louder than my doubts.

 

Gospel Reflection: Promises Unfolding

This passage draws us into the mystery of expectation and fulfilment. John, who boldly proclaimed Jesus as the Lamb of God, now wrestles with doubt in prison. His question is honest: “Are you the one?” Advent is often marked by this same tension — longing for God’s promises, but waiting in the dark.

Jesus’ answer is profound: look at the signs. The Kingdom is breaking in. The works of mercy and healing reveal that God’s promises are being fulfilled, even if not in the way John imagined. The Messiah has come not as a warrior to overthrow Rome but as the Servant who restores, heals, and brings life.

For us, too, faith in Advent means recognising God’s presence in unexpected ways. The promise of joy does not mean freedom from hardship — John remains in prison — but the assurance that God’s Kingdom is truly here, even in the midst of struggle.

 

Questions for Reflection

1. Where do I find myself asking John’s question: “Are you the one?”
2. How do I recognise the signs of Christ’s Kingdom breaking into my life today?
3. What expectations of God might I need to let go of, so I can see His presence more clearly?
4. How does John’s honesty in doubt give me courage to bring my own questions to God?
5. What “works of mercy” can I practise this week to bear witness to Christ’s presence?

Gaudete Sunday: Rejoice!

Today is known as Gaudete Sunday, from the Latin gaudete, meaning “rejoice.” The name comes from the Entrance Antiphon: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near.”

On this Third Sunday of Advent, the Church invites us to pause in our waiting and recognise the joy that Christ is near. This is why the liturgical colour shifts from violet to rose. Rose vestments and the rose candle on the Advent wreath symbolise joy breaking into the penitential season, a reminder that Advent is not only about repentance but also about hope and glad expectation.

Gaudete Sunday also mirrors Laetare Sunday in Lent — another rose-coloured day that marks a moment of joy and encouragement in the midst of a penitential season. Both days call us to lift our eyes and rejoice that God’s promises are unfolding, even if not yet fully realised.

 

Advent Connection (Joy)

On Gaudete Sunday, we are invited to rejoice: “The Lord is near!” This joy is not based on circumstances — John remained in prison — but on recognising Christ at work. True joy flows from knowing that God’s promises are being fulfilled here and now. The signs of the Kingdom — healing, mercy, good news for the poor — are cause for rejoicing.

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus,
when doubts rise within me,
remind me of Your works of mercy and love.
Open my eyes to the signs of Your Kingdom,
and fill me with the deep joy of knowing You are the One.
Help me to rejoice in Your presence,
even in the midst of waiting and struggle.
Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Come Lord Jesus Series

Advent Wreath Come Lord Jesus Series Icon

Third Sunday of Advent — Gaudete Sunday (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice.

Indeed, the Lord is near.”

(cf. Philippians 4:4–5)

 

Reflection

Gaudete Sunday arrives like a sudden clearing in the sky. After weeks of watchfulness, longing, and patient attentiveness, the Church interrupts Advent’s gentle restraint with a command that is both startling and liberating: “Rejoice.” And then, as if to make sure we do not miss it: “Again I say, rejoice.” This is not a suggestion. It is a summons.

But Christian joy is not forced cheerfulness or surface happiness. St Paul writes these words from prison, reminding us that joy does not depend on circumstances being resolved. It depends on one unshakeable truth: “The Lord is near.” Not distant. Not delayed. Near.

Gaudete Sunday teaches us that joy is born from proximity. When God draws close, something within us begins to lift — even if life is still complex, even if questions remain unanswered. Joy, in Advent, is not the end of the journey; it is the sign that the journey is rightly oriented.

The rose vestments worn today are not a break from Advent, but a deepening of it. They signal that hope has matured into confidence. The waiting Church is now a rejoicing Church, because what she has longed for is already approaching. Christ is no longer just promised — He is at the door.

And yet, this joy is gentle. It does not rush. It allows space for rest — even for going back to bed when needed. Gaudete joy honours the whole person: body, soul, and spirit. It reminds us that rejoicing does not mean pushing harder, but trusting more deeply.

To rejoice “in the Lord” is to let joy rest not on productivity, not on progress, not even on spiritual success — but on relationship. The Lord is near. That is enough.

Today, Advent gives us permission to smile, to breathe, to receive joy as grace rather than achievement. Joy does not cancel waiting; it sustains it.

So we rejoice — not because everything is finished,
but because God is close.

Some people believe that they do not have time to pray or that they are too busy.  The practices are for all of us to keep us focused  and renew our focus throughout the day.  It can be any 15 seconds you have... sitting at a traffic light, in a queue at the supermarket,  put the TV on silent during the advertisements ... all different times we can refocus. Find your time to stay focused this week.

Practice for Today:
Pause throughout the day, and pray slowly:
“Lord, You are near. I receive Your joy.”

Come Lord Jesus Series: Saturday Second Week of Advent- Feast of St Lucy.

 Come Lord Jesus Series

Advent Wreath: Come Lord Jesus series Icon

Saturday — Second Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“Come, O Lord, visit us in peace,

that we may rejoice before You with a blameless heart.”

(cf. Psalm 24:3; Psalm 85:8)

(Yes — this antiphon returns. The repetition is intentional and deeply Advental.)

Reflection

As the second week of Advent draws to a close, the Church places on our lips a prayer that gathers together everything we have been learning:
“Come, O Lord, visit us in peace.”

This is not the cry of urgency alone, nor the plea of desperation. It is the prayer of a people who are learning to trust the way God comes. Advent has been schooling our hearts in patience, attentiveness, and openness. We have heard again and again that the Lord will come — with light, with truth, with peace, with splendour — and now we ask Him to visit us, not simply to arrive, but to remain.

In Scripture, when God visits His people, something always changes. A visitation brings restoration, healing, re-ordering, and blessing. It is never rushed, never superficial. To ask the Lord to visit us in peace is to ask Him to enter the inner places of our lives — the places of restlessness, fatigue, quiet worry, and hidden longing — and to settle them gently in His presence.

The fruit of that visitation is beautifully named: “that we may rejoice before You.”
Advent joy is not loud or forced. It grows slowly as peace takes root. It arises when we stop resisting God’s nearness and allow ourselves to be met as we are. Rejoicing “before” the Lord suggests honesty and humility — standing in His presence without pretence, without fear, without needing to prove anything.

And then comes the phrase that can so easily be misunderstood: “with a blameless heart.”  This does not mean a flawless heart. In the language of Scripture, a blameless heart is a single heart — a heart turned toward God, seeking Him sincerely, even in weakness. Advent is not about perfection; it is about orientation. A blameless heart is one that keeps turning back to the Lord.

As Week Two ends, this antiphon becomes a prayer that gathers our desire:
Come, Lord.
Visit us.
Bring peace.
Awaken joy.
Unify our hearts.

Week Two of Advent — A Short Reflection & Review

Week Two of Advent has deepened our awareness of God’s nearness and God’s voice.  We have listened to prophets who spoke of light breaking into darkness, of God descending with splendour, of peace being bestowed, of hearts being enlightened, and of the Lord speaking in the joy of the heart. This week has invited us to move from simply waiting to listening, from watching the horizon to noticing what God is already doing within.

Advent’s work is often subtle. It unfolds quietly, shaping desire rather than demanding action. As this week ends, we are invited not to judge our progress, but to notice God’s presence.

Spiritual Review Question — Week Two:

Where have I noticed the Lord drawing closer this week?

What might He be asking me to release or simplify so that I can welcome Him more fully in the week ahead?

Let the answer come gently.
Advent is patient. God is near.

Feast of St Lucy — Light in the Darkness (13 December)

Today the Church also remembers St Lucy, whose very name means light. Celebrated in the heart of Advent, her feast is a quiet proclamation that God’s light cannot be extinguished — not by darkness, not by fear, not by suffering. The Entrance Antiphon is one for her feast not of Second Saturday of Advent.

Lucy lived in a time of persecution, and her witness was marked not by outward power but by interior clarity and courage. Tradition remembers her especially as a bearer of light — both physically and spiritually — someone whose faith remained radiant even when circumstances were harsh. In her, the Advent promise becomes flesh: “On that day there will be a great light.”

St Lucy reminds us that light is not something we generate for ourselves. It is something we receive and then carry. Her witness echoes the rhythm of Advent itself: Christ draws near, illuminates the heart, and then sends His light into the world through ordinary, faithful lives.

As we conclude this second week of Advent, St Lucy stands beside us as a companion and intercessor — encouraging us to trust the light already given, even when the path ahead feels dim. Her presence gently reinforces everything this week has taught us: God’s coming brings peace, clarity, and a light that endures.

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Come Lord Jesus Series: Friday Second Week of Advent Year A

 Come Lord Jesus Series.

Advent Wreath: Come Lord Jesus series Icon

Friday — Second Week of Advent (Year A)

Entrance Antiphon:

“Behold, the Lord will descend with splendour

to visit His people with peace,

and He will bestow on them eternal life.”

(cf. Isaiah 30:19, 30)

Reflection

Today’s Entrance Antiphon invites us to behold a God who descends. Advent consistently reveals a God who does not remain distant or detached, but who bends toward His people with intention and love. The word descending is crucial. It tells us something essential about God’s way of acting: He comes down to meet us where we are. He does not wait for us to ascend through effort or worthiness. He draws near first.

And yet, Isaiah tells us that this descent is not hidden or hesitant — it is marked by splendour. Advent holds together two truths that seem contradictory but are inseparable: God comes humbly, and God comes gloriously. The splendour of His coming is not about spectacle or display; it is the quiet radiance of divine faithfulness, the beauty of a God who keeps His promises and acts for the good of His people.

The purpose of this descent is clear: “to visit His people with peace.”
In Scripture, a divine visitation is never a casual moment. When God visits, He restores order, heals what is wounded, gathers what is scattered, and settles what is restless. Peace here is not simply the absence of conflict. It is the deep, steady assurance that comes from knowing we are seen, known, and held by God. Advent peace is a gift — not something we manufacture, but something we receive.

Finally, the antiphon reaches beyond the present moment to the horizon of fulfilment: “He will bestow on them eternal life.”
Advent always stretches our vision. The Lord who comes to bring peace now also prepares us for life that does not end. Eternal life is not only a future promise; it begins here, in every moment when we allow God’s peace to take root in the heart.

Today’s antiphon reassures us that God’s coming brings wholeness — peace for today, hope for tomorrow, and life without end.

Practice for Today:

Pause throughout the day and pray:
“Lord, visit me with Your peace.
Help me to receive the life You are offering.”

Come Holy Spirit Series: Holy Spirit as The Breath of God

 Come Holy Spirit Series

Come Holy Spirit Icon.

The Breath of God

Opening Reflection

There is something intimate and sacred about breath. It is the very first gift we receive when we enter the world—our first inhale marks the beginning of our earthly journey, and our final exhale marks its end. Breath is both unseen and essential, sustaining life quietly yet powerfully. So when the Scriptures speak of the Holy Spirit as The Breath of God, it invites us into a profound mystery: the Spirit is not just close to us—He is within us, sustaining us from the inside out.

The Hebrew word ruach and the Greek word pneuma are both translated as “spirit,” but they also mean “breath” and “wind.” From the very beginning of creation, this image of the Spirit as the breath or wind of God is present and active. When we invoke the Holy Spirit as the Breath of God, we are calling on the One who animates, revives, inspires, and empowers—who breathes God’s very life into our hearts and lives.

Scriptural Foundations

The image of the Spirit as God’s breath runs deeply throughout both Old and New Testaments:

“The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life.”  Job 33:4

Here, Job affirms that his very life comes from the breath of the Almighty. Life is not merely biological—it is spiritual. Our souls are animated by God's own Spirit.

“Then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being.”– Genesis 2:7

At creation, we were shaped from the dust, but we did not become truly alive until God breathed into us. The breath of God makes us more than flesh—it makes us persons capable of love, reason, relationship, and worship.

“Jesus breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’”  John 20:22

In this stunning moment after the Resurrection, Jesus re-creates His disciples, just as God once breathed life into Adam. He imparts the Holy Spirit with a breath—an act of both power and tenderness, signifying the Spirit’s role in birthing a new creation.

“Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into these slain, that they may live.”  Ezekiel 37:9

In the famous vision of the valley of dry bones, the breath of God brings the dead to life. This passage is not just about physical resurrection but also about spiritual revival—God’s ability to breathe hope, vitality, and purpose into even the most lifeless of situations.

Theological Meaning

To call the Holy Spirit the Breath of God is to affirm that He is the very life-force of God working in creation, redemption, and sanctification. Breath is invisible but necessary. It is quiet but powerful. In the same way, the Spirit often works silently, beneath the surface, but His presence is what enables us to live fully in Christ.

The Church Fathers often reflected on this title. St. Basil the Great described the Spirit as the One who “animates all things and gives life.” St. Augustine noted that the Spirit, as breath, binds the Father and the Son in mutual love and unity—He is the Breath of Divine Love. Even the Nicene Creed affirms: “We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life.”

Personal Reflection

Have you ever stopped to become aware of your breathing? In moments of anxiety, grief, or stress, breath can become shallow and laboured. Yet slowing down and breathing deeply can be a path to peace. This same principle applies to our spiritual lives. When we feel dry, weary, or distant from God, we are invited to breathe again—to invite the Holy Spirit to fill us afresh.

The Breath of God is not just something that gives life once. It renews us daily. It breathes hope into despair, strength into weakness, courage into fear. Every breath we take can become a prayer:
Come, Holy Spirit, Breath of God, fill me anew.

Prayer

Come, Holy Spirit, Breath of the Living God.
Breathe into me the life of the Father.
Where I am weary, bring strength.
Where I am dry, pour out refreshment.
Where I am restless, instil peace.
You who hovered over the waters of creation, hover now over the chaos of my life and bring new order and beauty.
Fill my lungs, my heart, my soul with Your presence.
Make me fully alive in Christ.
Amen.