First Sunday in Advent: A Light Shines in the Darkness

I love Advent nearly as much as I love Christmas.  When I was a child--before things got all-out peculiar at home, that is--we had some lovely Advent rituals which I've tried to keep alive now that I'm on my own.  There's that sense of waiting, of hope, of redemption, of peace.

Through the Advent season, I usually try to attend the Tridentine Latin Mass exclusively on Sundays, rather than my usual every-few-Sundays routine.  (On other Sundays, I attend various other Masses in the area.)  The chant, the readings, the silence--all of those appeal to my soul. 

Ad te levavi animam meam: Deus meus, in te confido, non erubescam: neque irrideant me inimici mei: etenim universi qui te exspectant, non confundentur.  Vias tuas, Somine, demonstra mihi: et semitas tuas edoce me.

To Thee, O Lord, have I lifted up my soul: in Thee, O my God, I put my trust; let my enemies laugh at me; for none of them that wait on Thee shall be confounded.  Show, O Lord, Thy ways to me, and teach me thy paths.

~Psalm 24:1-4, Introit of the First Sunday of Advent

Humility.  Complete trust.  Willingness.

The rituals I associate with the Sundays of Advent remind me strongly of the Jewish ritual of Shabbat, which isn't that surprising, as Judaism is the root of Christianity.  The house is made orderly, and a pleasant meal prepared.  The proper number of candles for that Sunday are lit.  Scriptures are read, and songs are sung, and the meal is enjoyed by all.

I also use the First Sunday of Advent to set up my creche.  Christ is not placed in the manger until Christmas Day, but the creche is a beautiful reminder of that to come.