Friday, December 5, 2025
The Feast of St. Clement of Alexandria
Is 29:17-24 Ps 27:1-6, 17-18 Mt 9:27-31 or Col 1:11-20 Ps 103:1-4, 13-18 Jn 6:57-63
Shall not Lebanon in a very little while
become a fruitful field,
and the fruitful field be regarded as a forest?
On that day the deaf shall hear
the words of a scroll,
and out of their gloom and darkness
the eyes of the blind shall see.
The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord,
and the neediest people shall exult in the Holy One of Israel.
For the tyrant shall be no more,
and the scoffer shall cease to be;
all those alert to do evil shall be cut off—
those who cause a person to lose a lawsuit,
who set a trap for the arbiter in the gate,
and without grounds deny justice to the one in the right.
Therefore thus says the Lord, who redeemed Abraham, concerning the house of Jacob:
No longer shall Jacob be ashamed,
no longer shall his face grow pale.
For when he sees his children,
the work of my hands, in his midst,
they will sanctify my name;
they will sanctify the Holy One of Jacob,
and will stand in awe of the God of Israel.
And those who err in spirit will come to understanding,
Is 29:17-24 NIV
We long for the world to transform itself in the way these verses describe and for it to happen quickly. Justice. Equity. Peace. We crave these things. "Why is it not done yet?" we ask. But nothing profound or worth doing can be rushed, not in the world at large, in our faith journey, or even in our daily lives. Most certainly not in our vocations.
For over three decades, I earned my living as a non-fiction writer, penning hundreds of feature articles as well as a few books. In that economically unstable profession, turning around a project quickly was critical to my paying rent and buying groceries.
Sometimes, my work got published a little too quickly, before I had a chance to really reflect on it; its message muted or lost in the pressure to meet tight deadlines. Sometimes, I wrote advertorials about companies and products I really didn’t care much about. Looking over my older work, I am certain much of it would have benefited from more editing, more reflection, and, in some cases, more prayer.
Now my vocation has shifted into essays, poetry, and fiction. I am delighted this deepest desire of my heart finally came true. However, no transition arrives without changing perspectives and new skills. In my case, it means learning to wait, to be patent. Deadlines are less important. The best way, isn’t the quickest way. Only the best word and most vivid image will do.
During the four weeks of Advent, we are also called to reassess our lives. We unlearn and relearn the things we thought we knew. We adjust expectations in order to see new possibilities. We are reminded that it takes time to craft lives that better reflect God.
We are forced to slow down and wait as we prepare for Christmas. Christmas cakes must age in order to develop flavour. Houses must be cleaned. Priorities must change. Ideally, we drop routines to make time for families, friends, and strangers who need us. None of this can be done in a day.
The lessons of Advent extend beyond this season. It usually takes longer than we wish it would. We cannot remake the world all done at once. We wish we could transform the world in a day, but it cannot be done.
Accepting God’s timing is difficult for us, but it will yield a better thing.
Jane Harris-Zsovan
O Come, O Come Emmanuel Anna Hawkins

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