Author: Fr. Evan Cummings

  • O Antiphons: A Prayerful Homestretch to Christmas

    O Antiphons: A Prayerful Homestretch to Christmas

    “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” is one of my favorite hymns, if not my all-time favorite. This hymn is ubiquitous with the Advent season and is heard in most Catholic churches in the United States at least once in the season. The words of this hymn, simultaneously wonderfully ancient and ever-new, are based on what is referred to as the “O Antiphons.” Now, maybe you already knew that, maybe you’ve heard of the “O Antiphons” before, or maybe you’re now wondering what an antiphon even is. Chances are though, you’ve heard this hymn and might have wondered where it came from.

    An antiphon is a short phrase or sentence that is used in liturgies like the Mass or Liturgy of the Hours. Antiphons serve as small refrains and often highlight a particular message or prayer of the season. In this case, the “O Antiphons” refer to the specific antiphons used in Vespers (evening prayer of Liturgy of the Hours) that go with reciting the Magnificat (Mary’s prayer of praise from Luke) from December 17 to 23. Together, these seven antiphons – all of which start with calling upon Jesus Christ with an exclamatory O, hence the name –  help to serve as a prayerful conclusion to Advent, a homestretch prayer on our way to Christmas.

    LISTEN: Father Dave Explains O Antiphons

    Structurally, each antiphon has two key parts. The first is a traditional title of Jesus Christ as the messiah, the one who was promised to come, such as Emmanuel, used by Gabriel in the Annunciation meaning “God with us.” These titles reflect how the prophets thought of the coming messiah and who he is. The second part of each antiphon is a reflection of that role by drawing upon the words of the prophet Isaiah. This portion helps to reflect on the mission and ministry of the messiah and how he would live out that particular title. For us as Christians, we use these prophetic titles and words to reflect on Jesus Christ, what he has done in history, and how he continues to act in our lives today.

    We can sit with these seven little phrases and draw upon their richness in helping us to know Jesus Christ as the wisdom of God, guiding us in our lives and actions. We too call upon Jesus Christ in a longing way as we look forward to and hope for his second coming. So just as the prophets longed for his first arrival, we too wait eagerly and look forward to his return in glory.

     

    December 17: O Sapientia

    O Wisdom, O holy Word of God, you govern all creation with your strong yet gentle care. Come and show your people the way to salvation.

    O Wisdom, O Word of God! These ancient titles reflect God’s perfect knowledge and are titles given specifically to Jesus Christ. In the Book of Wisdom, wisdom is personified as existing before all time with God, and in relationship with the Father. In the original Greek of the Book of Wisdom, the word used for Wisdom is “Sophia” (which may ring bells of the Hagia Sophia or Holy Wisdom). Wisdom was depicted in feminine language as one who is gentle and caring. In the prologue of the Gospel of John, we hear how the Word was with God and was God (John 1:1). The Greek word used here is “Logos,” which, in addition to word, can also be translated as wisdom. Christ is this wisdom of God, the perfect knowledge of the divine, loving, and creative, made manifest in human life.

    Christ was present at the creation of the universe as the Son, the Wisdom, and the Word. Indeed, Christ was not passive in the creation, but was the very blueprint of creation itself. As Psalm 33:6 states: “By the Lord’s word the heavens were made; by the breath of his mouth all their host.” The world was made to reflect this Wisdom and Word, and humanity, made in God’s image, is called to look to Christ for the very way to live our lives. Christ is not distant from creation either, as this antiphon reminds us. Rather, he continues to govern and care for creation, remaining intimately connected and in relationship with all he has made.

    Through the goodness of the world that Christ created, he shows us the way to eternal life. We are a sacramental people, meaning that physical signs point us to the goodness of God and salvation. As we enter the final days of preparation for Christmas, may the bright decorations and the joyful celebrations with family and friends be a sign of God’s love and lead us deeper into knowing the Wisdom and Word made flesh.

     

    December 18: O Adonai

    O sacred Lord of ancient Israel, who showed yourself to Moses in the burning bush, who gave him the holy law on Sinai mountain: come, stretch out your mighty hand to set us free.

    Christ is not a new creation that was spontaneously generated on December 25 over 2000 years ago. Christ, as the Son of God, the second person of the Trinity, has always and will always exist. The title used for Christ in this antiphon is Adonai, a Hebrew word for the Lord of all who is a good and just ruler, a giver of law.

    Even if they were not known in the moment, all three persons of the Trinity were present at the burning bush. The same Christ who would be held as an infant in Mary’s arms declared himself as “I am who I am” to Moses (Ex. 3:14). Our Lord and God, who is infinite and eternal, humbled himself to be held as a child to set us free.

    St. Paul writes of Christ coming under the law to free us from it. This is not to set us free from the moral and theological precepts, such as the Ten Commandments, but to free us from the law of sin and death. Christ is the author of true law, of the laws given to Moses, and ultimately, of the law of life. It is this same Christ who sets us free from the law of sin who gives us the laws of love and freedom. The same Christ who has acted in history to give the law and set us free continues to act in our lives with his mighty hand.

     

    December 19: O Radix Jesse

    O Flower of Jesse’s stem, you have been raised up as a sign for all peoples; kings stand silent in your presence; the nations bow down in worship before you. Come, let nothing keep you from coming to our aid.

    O Flower, Christ, who is the sign of new life, flourishing, and beauty! In the dark of winter, the thought of a freshly bloomed, beautiful flower can bring us to a place of peace, warmth, and tranquility. In the difficulties of life, Christ is the flower that brings us to these same places. Christ, through sharing our humanity in the incarnation, knows our pains and struggles. He sees us in our times of need and comes to be with us, to hold and comfort us, to grant us hope and peace like the thought of a beautiful flower on a cold night.

    It’s interesting to note that “radix” is translated as “flower” in the English breviary when it actually means “root.” This reality of being both root, stem, and flower shows Christ’s presence throughout history. In the antiphon, it seems odd at first to call upon Christ, who in his human family is a descendant of Jesse, as the root of the stem. And yet, as God, Christ is the root, the beginning, of the family line. He has existed before the world and helped bring forth the family of Jesse and his son, King David. He is the source of their life, the root which draws in to care for them. And yet, Christ also steps into the world as their descendant. Christ humbles himself and is born from the stem of Jesse as a humble shepherd. This language is drawn from chapter 11 of Isaiah where the prophet states “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse” (v. 1) and “the root of Jesse shall stand as a signal to the peoples” (v. 10).

    All nations will bow down in worship; all peoples are called to life with Christ. This humble flower blossoms not just for us as individuals, but for all peoples throughout the world and history. We share in the mission to bring all nations to Christ, to proclaim his love and his truth to the world. We ask Christ to remove all barriers between us and him so that he may come to help us just as he came to help the world at his birth. We share in this, too, by removing the barriers in the world between all peoples, so that we may live together in the love of Christ.

     

    December 20: O Clavis David

    O Key of David, O royal Power of Israel, controlling at your will the gate of heaven: come, break down the prison walls of death for those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death; and lead your captive people into freedom.

    O key of the royal family, open for us the treasury of your goodness. You have loosened our chains. You have given us the freedom of eternal life in your love. You, O God and Christ, have humbled yourself, as the one who opens the gates of heaven, to be given to Peter and your Church. In your love, you have made the path of salvation known to us and promised to be with us in our journey.

    By your incarnation, O Son of God, you came to give us freedom from death. By your paschal mystery, your death and resurrection, you lead us out of the dark valley of death and into eternal life. Death has no power over us any longer; you have trampled death by death. In your birth, we remember why you have come. We remember and look forward to the ultimate glory of your resurrection.

    As we look towards Christmas in just a few days, we can reflect in prayer on what Christ has freed us from in our lives. What shackles has Christ removed for us so that we can love God and neighbor more? We can also reflect on what barriers there are in our hearts to loving more deeply, and asking Christ to give us the grace to remove them. By the birth of Christ, we are invited to love God and neighbor with our whole heart and selves.

     

    December 21: O Oriens (Dawn of the East)

    O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come, shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death.

    O Radiant Dawn, how we long for the rising of the sun in the dark months – to feel the warmth on our faces. Knowing the shadow of death that looms over all of us, we long for the eternal light of God all the more. Christ is the light we long for and know in our lives and the Church. Christ’s light guides us in our steps and helps lead us to a life of love and discipleship. The child born in the manger is this sun, this great light of God’s love, who continues to walk with us and guide us. 

    In facing the cold and dark of injustice, separation, and pains of our world, we desire the sun of justice. We know that Christ not only brings justice to earth and rights wrongs, but that Christ is the true justice we seek. He calls us to follow him in this world, to share that justice. This justice is not harsh and punitive, but kind, patient, loving, and uniting. The prophet Malachi describes the rays of this sun as healing (Malachi 4:2). The warm rays of Christ heal our souls, warm our hearts, and guide our steps in justice. In welcoming these healing rays, Christ transforms us and sends us forth into the world to share that same light and warmth.

     

    December 22: O Rex Gentium

    O King of all the nations, the only joy of every human heart; O Keystone of the mighty arch of man, come and save the creature you fashioned from the dust.

    O King of the nations, you are the true ruler of all peoples and all creation. You call all peoples to yourself and call all of us to live together as your people. You rule not as a despot or tyrant, but as a loving servant who cares for the hearts of all. Truly, you bring us the joy that lasts forever, a joy that does not perish; you satisfy our every longing.

    O Christ, through you humanity was made, and through you, humanity is completed. You are the keystone of the arch of humanity. You have wonderfully made us in your image out of lowly dust and made us to share in your love forever. Our arch, however, is not complete without you. Only with you, O Christ, humanity is made whole and complete. In taking on human flesh as a lowly child in the manger, you bring the fullness of our true selves. You restore us and bring us to new life. Come, save us, bring us to eternal life, bring all of humanity to completion in and through your love.

    In looking to Christ as our King, we look to see how we emulate his kingship. At our baptisms, we are anointed as sharing in Christ’s roles as priest, prophet, and king. As ones who share in his kingly role and ministry, we lead in our lives and in our worlds. Whether that is as leaders in our families, our work, or any other aspect of our lives, it is a moment to reflect Christ in his role as our king, to be one who serves.

     

    December 23: O Emmanuel

    O Emmanuel, king and lawgiver, desire of the nations, Savior of all people, come and set us free, Lord our God.

    O Emmanuel is our final antiphon and final evening prayer before Christmas begins. We find ourselves on the precipice of a great day and season of celebration. Knowing what is to come, we cry out to Jesus Christ; we cry out with titles that summarize all the other antiphons. We cry out, knowing that Christ alone will save us and set us free. This antiphon is short, knowing the light of Christmas dawn is coming soon.

    Emmanuel means “God is with us.” It’s an intimate reminder at the start of this antiphon that God is always near us. We remember the unique way that Christ walked among us at Christmas, but know that he is still always with us. He is the king and lawgiver, the one who rules over our lives and makes the laws that govern the world. Christ is not a distant ruler or a despot, but one who is close and in relationship with all of us.

    Christ is the desire of all nations, the savior of all. Christ came to the world and became like us in all things but sin so that we could be like him and share in eternal life. We cry out now, especially from the darkness of sin and separation in our lives, for the same Christ born in the manger to save us this day. We cry out to our God, our Lord, who loves us all, transforms us, and brings us everlasting life.

    As the Church prepares to celebrate Christmas starting with the vigil on Christmas Eve, we close out our reflections upon the “O Antiphons.” These short stanzas, these poetic lines drawing upon scripture, help us to prepare our hearts for the great celebration of Christmas and can guide us in our daily lives as Christians. We invite you to prayerfully recite each of these antiphons, taking a small pause between each one, as a final prayer of Advent. Reflect on where God has spoken to you in this season, and where God is leading you to share the joy of Christmas with others. May you have a wonderful, blessed, and merry Christmas!

  • Looking to the Saints This Halloween

    Looking to the Saints This Halloween

    Pictures of several different Catholic Saints underneath a book detailing the Saints livesI have so many great memories of trick-or-treating in my neighborhood as a child, just like so many other generations. And a core part of those Halloween nights was, of course, the costumes. I had many costumes over the years, from a cowboy, to a Power Ranger, to a ninja, to the Phantom of the Opera. I was also blessed that my mother would lovingly make the costumes by hand with her sewing machine.

    Like other kids, most of my costumes were picked based on the media I was consuming at the time. The characters I dressed as were often heroes, characters I looked up to for their fight against evil. Others were chosen because they were “cool” to me as a kid, not always being the most noble or upright figures (see the aforementioned Phantom).

    RELATED: 5 Spooky Saints to Help You Celebrate Halloween

    As I grew older and less frequently went trick-or-treating or donned new costumes each year, my connection to Halloween faded. However, reminiscing on the past got me thinking about what sort of costumes I might pick now as an adult if I were to make one. And given the connection between Halloween and All Saints’ Day, I started thinking: What saints I might pick to dress up as and why? 

    What if we turned to the saints with that same childlike wonder as we might have with heroes? We can look to the saints as great models of virtue, love, and wisdom and seek to be like them in our lives, to emulate them.

    In many ways, we pick saints in this manner if we choose to take on a saint name at the time of our Confirmation or are given one at Baptism. My confirmation name is Saint Ferdinand. I chose him as he is the patron saint of engineers, which is what I had desired to do with my life when I was being confirmed. Another saint I look up to and desire to emulate is St. Philip Neri, a patron of comedians among other things. He had a great way of diffusing tension with joy and humor that warms my heart. 

    WATCH: You Don’t Know Jack About Halloween

    Finally, St. Hildegard von Bingen’s curiosity is another saintly example in my life. She had a gifted scientific mind and would catalog all sorts of flora and fauna. All of this came from a curiosity to know what God had made in the world and to see God’s goodness in it.

    So which saint or saints would you pick? Who do you wish to emulate in your life and “put on” in a certain way? Not only as a costume (though if you dress as a saint this Halloween, please send photos), but also in living up to an example we admire, an example that helps us to seek our own journeys of holiness. 

    In our lives with Christ, we are all called to holiness, to strive to be saints, and so we have their examples to help us. But we also do it in a way that is unique to each of us. So we have the saints as “costumes” to help us in emulating sainthood, but underneath is us, seeking to be a saint in our unique lives and our unique ways. And in striving to do this, we ourselves become examples to others, signs of love and holiness, just as my mother is a sign of love to me whenever she made a costume (and in so many other ways).

  • What Does the Church Say About Limbo?

    What Does the Church Say About Limbo?

    White Clouds and Blue Sky
    Photo by Ithalu Dominguez on Pexels

    Editorial note: The following article contains mentions of pregnancy/infant loss.

    The loss of a child is a heartbreaking situation. There is grief over the death of the beloved child, of course, but also over the child’s future now lost. Additionally, there can be grief and uncertainty over the soul of the child and where they are now. In the midst of this loss, the Catholic Church has always offered words of consolation and hope, trusting in God’s infinite love and mercy. Amid the pain of miscarriages, stillbirths, and lost children, we find consolation in our God who desires all children of the world to come to him. To any and all persons facing such loss, please know you have the prayers of the Busted Halo staff.

    Throughout history, some have responded to these griefs and uncertainties by saying that children who pass away before receiving the Sacrament of Baptism are in Limbo. Limbo is at the heart of a tension between understanding God as being all-loving and desiring the salvation of all and the Catholic understanding that baptism is needed for salvation. This raises questions, especially about the souls of unbaptized children and what happens to them in the next life. The loss of a child is always especially difficult, and many in the Church have tried to find explanations that offer consolation. Limbo was one such answer to those questions, and while never completely embraced by the Church, neither has it been completely done away with. The answer to “Does Limbo exist?” is a much more complex question and requires a look at the growth of the idea of Limbo over time.

    LISTEN: Navigating Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Loss With Abigail Jorgenson

    In the tension between understanding salvation that required baptism and understanding that a loving God wouldn’t punish children who never had the option or ability to be baptized, St. Augustine was among the first to discuss the idea of “Limbo.” This would be a place separate from heaven and fully enjoying the presence of God, but also away from hell. To some theologians, Limbo existed on the edge of hell but was not a place of suffering. To others, it was a place of pleasant neutrality. There was, however, never an official definition or understanding of what Limbo was or what it was like. Other theologians throughout the ages, such as St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Alphonsus Liguori, would continue to write about Limbo.

    Yet with all of this writing, the concept of Limbo had never been formally adopted as the Church’s position. The closest the Church got was the mention of Limbo in St. Pius X’s Catechism in question 100 wherein he wrote: “Children who die without baptism go to Limbo, where they do not enjoy God, but neither do they suffer.” However, this Catechism was never made known as official teaching for the whole world, but rather, for the faithful in the city of Rome. St. Pius X wrote and published it only for the immediate Church in Rome as the local bishop, not for the whole world.

    Even though this idea was shared by a pope, it was never a universal idea in the Church, or adopted as official Catholic teaching. St. Cajetan, a priest in the 16th Century, notably wrote against the idea of Limbo. He argued that children who are unable to be baptized in life share in the concept of Baptism by Desire (that someone who desires God’s grace but is physically unable to be baptized is still saved and in effect, baptized) because of their mothers’ love and desire to have them baptized. St. Cajetan argued for a more open approach to God’s mercy for these children.

    WATCH: Baptism 101

    In 1980, the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith (CDF) put out Instruction on Infant Baptism. In this document, they stated that: “As for children who die without Baptism, the Church can only entrust them to God’s mercy, as she does in the funeral rite provided for them.” The CDF felt that the most important thing to say on the death of a child before they were baptized was to entrust that soul to God’s infinite mercy.

    About 25 years later, the International Theological Commission wrote The Hope of Salvation for Infants Who Die Without Being Baptized. In this, the Commission made several arguments to uphold the idea that a child who died before baptism could share in God’s joy in heaven eternally. They rooted these arguments in paragraph 1261 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church which states: “[there is] hope that there is a way of salvation for children who have died without Baptism.” They also point to our celebration of the infant martyrs on December 28, that we celebrate them as martyrs and saints even though they were never baptized. Finally, the document reminds us that Christ’s salvific love is true – and a greater truth than original sin, which we are all subject to. As such, Christ’s love will win out, and this gives us great hope and joy for the salvation of unbaptized children.

    RELATED: 9 Ways to Help a Grieving Friend

    Interestingly enough, though, none of these statements outright deny the existence of Limbo. Rather, the Church places greater emphasis on hope and trust in God’s love when it comes to the souls of unbaptized children. One can be a good Catholic whether or not they believe in Limbo.

    Personally, I find that the idea of Limbo does not line up with what I have been taught about a loving and merciful God. I have great hope and trust in God’s love to welcome unbaptized children into heaven and find that this gives greater peace to those who have faced such a loss. If anyone should find themselves in the situation of walking with someone who lost a child before a baptism was celebrated, my first piece of advice is simply to be with them. Not necessarily to even say anything, but to be present alongside them in mourning and an image of God’s merciful love in the time of loss. When words are needed, words of hope, especially those of Christ, are most consoling. As Jesus said, “Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19:14).