Advent; Present and Alert

Today is Advent. The beginning of the Revised Translation of the Roman Missal. Since I worked this weekend, I went to Mass last night for the Sunday Vigil. As the lector took to the pulpit and for 20ish minutes read to us about the new translation, followed by father's explanation for another 10, I was thinking "Are you freaking kidding me? You waited until the day to do this? Where was the preparations beforehand? This should've been done in the months preceding, not tonight!" Father also announced that there would be no singing which was very ridiculous since we had been singing the new music for over a month. That was the only preparation we actually did (well except a poorly attended video explanation of it) and we couldn't even do that part?!?! I know I'm being very judgmental, however, I myself was prepared for this. I endured a 10+ hour lecture on this and I did my homework. I was SOOO excited for the change and then last night was just a crazy disappointment. I love my church. It's beyond gorgeous, but I was so disappointed at how it was played out. It was just chaotic. Not this beautiful thing. I'm hoping it gets better, because I LOVE this new translation. I really do. I was leery at first, but I made my peace with it. I did my homework and was prepared. I just wish I could say the rest of my parish was as well. After reading a reflection today it gave me a question to ponder/pray about. The reflection ended this way:

"We face four weeks of fairly relentless activity; point and shoot (the reflection was about a photographer). But the liturgy is calling us in another direction, toward mindfulness, toward vigil and alertness. Is there some wisdom in these readings that can help us negotiate this tension?"

What pops out to me in this is the word 'vigil'. As I worked this weekend I was able to keep a vigil with one of our residents as she was actively dying and entered into eternal life this earlier this afternoon. Life is such a gift and  to be there with a person in their last moments is something special and unique. Her death was so peaceful and she was surrounded by all of her family members. It was such a blessing, it was so humbling to be able to care for her these last few months. To see her from my day one to her last day. To be able to hold her hand and pray for her (not with, that's against policy, stupid is what I call it). The gospel says that we need to be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come. Death can come on all too quickly. As in this case, just the other day she told me, "Well if it's cute, it's worth saying hi to." And today she is in a different place entirely. Not to be too morbid, but as I was able to wash her body and get it ready to be taken to the funeral home, I felt like I was doing a great service for her. To give her dignity in her last moments in the place she called home for the last few years. After you watch someone die, you change your whole outlook on life. It is such a gift. You treasure the moments you have with people. You do not know the time or the place when you will meet the God of the Universe face-to-face.

Eternal rest grant unto her O, Lord. And let the perpetual light shine upon her.  May she and all the faithful departed through the mercy of God rest in peace. Amen.

 (After I published this it cut off the end. So I made up a new one, but I don't think it's as good as the original. Oh technology, you suck!)