The Visitation, Gerónimo Ezquerra (1660–1733) Advent is my favourite liturgical season of the year – a brief yet deeply meaningful time. I treasure its rich traditions: crafting the Jesse Tree, designing the Advent wreath, lighting candles that pierce the winter darkness, and enjoying the sacred melodies of Handel’s Messiah alongside familiar carols. The glow of Christmas lights against the countryside’s dark nights and the warmth of a fire roaring in the sitting room create a magical contrast to the wintry weather outside. Yet, as Christmas Day gives way to St Stephen’s Day, a familiar feeling often sets in – December fatigue. For some, it’s a cosy calm of pyjamas, Christmas movies, and lingering Quality Street chocolates. For others, it brings dread of January blues, looming exams, or the grind of returning to work. Amid this busyness, Advent stands as a gentle call to pause and reflect – a season of waiting, preparation, and spiritual renewal. St John Chrysostom warns us about this, “[you] deck yourself out in your very finest, all the while paying not the slightest attention to your soul…” (Homily 6).
Waiting
Waiting often feels like an unwelcome pause. Whether awaiting medical test results, waiting for an exam outcome or preparing for a wedding, the emotions that accompany waiting are varied: anxiety, excitement, or even boredom – like waiting for a late bus. In Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot (1953), Vladimir and Estragon endure a seemingly endless wait for the elusive Godot in a barren landscape. The play carries a nihilistic tone, with Godot symbolising either God or the Irish phrase go deo (meaning ‘forever’). It reflects the idea of waiting endlessly – whether for God or for eternity – without hope or purpose. While their waiting feels futile, they persevere, finding moments of humour amid the absurdity. The play challenges us to consider, what is the purpose behind waiting?
A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse”
Unlike Beckett’s existential waiting, Advent invites us into a purposeful kind of waiting – one filled with hope and anticipation. The prophets, especially, the great prophet of Advent, Isaiah, call us to wait actively. Isaiah 40:31 reminds us, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength”. This waiting is not fruitless but transformative, deepening our relationship with God. Even in times of silence or desolation, God is at work, preparing us for the fulfilment of his promises.
Beckett’s imagery offers an echo of Advent’s hope. In the play, the barren tree on set stands as a symbol of desolation, yet later, it bears a single leaf – a fragile sign of renewal. Similarly, Isaiah’s vision in 11:1 proclaims, “A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse”, a promise of life springing from apparent ruin. Both point to the perseverance and hope found in waiting.
The newly released Gladiator II also explores themes of waiting, sacrifice, and redemption. Picking up the legacy of the original Gladiator (2000), starring Russell Crewe as Maximus, the film follows Lucius, the son of Maximus, as he strives to honour his father’s spirit in a world fraught with loss and tyranny. Portrayed by Paul Mescal, Lucius embodies the anticipation of justice and renewal, themes that resonate deeply with Advent’s longing for Christ’s ultimate return – a moment of perfect peace and restoration.
Aeneid
In the film, Lucius repeatedly quotes Virgil’s Aeneid (Book 6): “The gates of hell are open night and day; smooth the descent, and easy is the way: but to return, and view the cheerful skies, in this the task and mighty labour lies”. These lines reflect Lucius’ arduous journey to restore justice to a fractured empire – a struggle paralleling humanity’s universal longing for redemption. Just as Virgil’s lines describe the difficulty of ascending from darkness to light, Advent anticipates the Redeemer’s arrival to heal a broken world.
Virgil’s works carry further theological connotations. In his Fourth Eclogue, written during Caesar Augustus’ reign, he speaks of a divine child ushering in a new golden age, the Pax Romana: “The virgin and the reign of Saturn come again, now a new child is sent from Heaven above”. Though pagan, Christians later saw this as a prophetic foreshadowing of Christ’s birth during the Pax Romana. Gladiator II taps into a similar hope, portraying Lucius as a symbol of renewal for Rome and its people.
Returning to Beckett’s Waiting for Godot, the barren tree’s eventual leaf mirrors Isaiah’s prophecy of the sprouting shoot. Both remind us that even in waiting, there is hope. Advent teaches us that waiting is not passive but an active preparation for transformation – where what seems futile, like a single leaf or shoot, becomes the first sign of renewal. This is the hope Advent nurtures – the promise of renewal and divine intervention. Isaiah, the prophetic voice of Advent, presents vivid imagery to convey the transformative power of the Messiah in unexpected ways. He speaks of a child born of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14), a shoot emerging from the stump of Jesse (Isaiah 11:1), a barren wilderness blossoming with flowers (Isaiah 35:1-10), and swords being forged into ploughshares (Isaiah 2:4). In Isaiah 35, the desert is transformed into a flourishing garden, symbolising the life-giving renewal brought by the Messiah’s arrival. These prophetic visions not only recall God’s promises fulfilled in the past but also point to their ultimate realisation in the future, calling us to prepare our hearts for their fulfilment.
Here are a few ways to celebrate Advent:
– Create a Jesse Tree: Trace Jesus’ lineage through Bible stories, reflecting on God’s promises to his people.
– Design an Advent Wreath: Light candles symbolising hope, peace, joy, and love as the weeks unfold.
– Go to Confession: Experience spiritual renewal by seeking God’s mercy.
– Donate to Charity: Advent calls us to active waiting. Helping those in need embodies the hope Advent inspires.
– Spend time in Prayer: Daily prayer helps attune our hearts to God’s voice, cultivating a spirit of expectation.
Advent calls us to reflect on the three comings of Christ: his birth in Bethlehem over 2,000 years ago, his future coming in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his daily presence in our hearts through prayer and the sacraments.
First coming
“Our Lord’s first coming is in the flesh and in weakness; another coming is hidden as souls see within themselves, receive rest and consolation, and are saved. His last coming will be in glory and majesty, and all flesh shall see the salvation of our God” (St Bernard of Clairvaux Sermo 5, In Adventu Domini, 1-3). Unlike the futile waiting in Waiting for Godot or the vengeance-fuelled journey of Gladiator II, Advent calls us to wait with purpose and hope, preparing for and anticipating the fulfilment of God’s promises in our lives. This sacred season offers a countercultural rhythm amidst the commercial rush of ‘Christmas’. It challenges us to cultivate patience and perseverance, embracing the deep longing for peace, justice, and renewal that humanity has expressed for generations. As we light the candles on the Advent wreath and prepare our hearts to welcome Christ, may we embrace the theme of the Jubilee Year 2025 and walk into a new year as ‘pilgrims of hope’. The shoot from Jesse’s stump will flourish; the barren tree will bear leaves. Christ, born of the Virgin Mary, will come to bring life, healing, and restoration to our hearts and to our world.
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Fr Barry White, based in Mullingar Parish, studied Philosophy, History and Theology at the Pontifical University, St Patrick’s College, Maynooth and holds a Licentiate in Canon Law.