Simbang Gabi traces its roots in Mexico when, in 1587, the Pope granted the petition of Friar Diego de Soria, prior of the convent of San Agustin Acolman, to hold Christmas mass outdoors because the Church could not accommodate the huge number of people attending the evening mass.

During the old times, the pre-dawn mass is announced by the ringing of the church bells. In some rural areas, an hour before the start of Simbang Gabi, a brass band plays Christmas music all over the town. It is also believed that parish priests would go far knocking on doors to wake and gather the faithful to attend the misa de gallo. Farmers as well as fishermen wake up early to hear the Gospel before going to their work and ask for the grace of good harvest.

This novena of masses was introduced in the 17^th century by the Spanish conquistadores. It was held before dawn so that farmers and fisherman would be able to participate in them before the usual early start of their labor for the day. In fact, the flickering candles in the star-shaped parols or Christmas lanterns that adorned the humble houses gave light to the early-morning churchgoers on their way to Simbang Gabi.

These nine days of liturgical pre-dawn celebrations express the sentiments of the people toward Mary and manifested the Filipino rite of celebrating life in more festive ways. The readings, the prayers and the chants of the Simbang Gabi or Advent Novena, made it clear that it is a celebration of the mystery of the Incarnation of the Father's eternal word - the fruit of Mary's womb.

My first Simbang Gabi Mass this year was at Kaingin with Ezequiel and Sebastian who work in this parish as part of their Sunday apostolate. Kaingin is about 10 minutes by car from our community. Its residents are not well to do, nor are they utterly down-trodden. They are an in-between people: they have just enough but they still lack much. We see this in the tragic reality that some of the youngsters here are unable to complete their education because their families do not have enough to pay for their tuition fees. It is however a happy and vibrant community.

The Saturday morning we made our way there in an old Toyota that belonged to one of the elder men folk was cool. As Mass began at 4.30am, it was dark. Though we did not carry any parols to light our way, the car’s headlamps parted the darkness as we drove through the narrow lanes to get to the village chapel. Their piercing light cast a glow on the people, many of them families walking hand-in-hand, making their way faithfully for this early Mass. It was a heart-warming sight to behold.

As we rounded the last corner on the road, there in full electrical glory was the packed chapel: its portico was festively bedecked with fairy lights and a singly-lit parol to signify the expectant Christmas. The few shrubs surrounding the chapel, which itself skirted the single-lane tarred road, were decorated with an array of lights and stars. And inside, sitting patiently and expectantly were the faithful of all ages. Seeing it all at once from the car window, I could not help but think, “wow, what a truly resplendent sight amidst the darkness enveloping us.” In the Homily he preached, Fr O’Donnell spoke of how this first Simbang Gabi Mass recalls the turn from darkness to the expectant light of Christmas that Advent takes on with Gaudete Sunday. He expressed this so beautifully by taking off the violet stole he wore at the beginning of Mass, replacing it with a white stole to celebrate the Liturgy of the Eucharist.

For Filipinos, Simbang Gabi makes Christmas more alive and real, even if it appears like Christmas has come nine days earlier. The simple folk at Kaingin reminded me of this: though they were simply dressed, with hardly any hint of festive sartorial garments, they were filled with an eager anticipation for this first Simbang Gabi Mass when the joyful strains of the Gloria will once again resound during Mass, the violet Advent garments of the priest gives way to white Christmas vestments, and one and all join in to heartily sing Christmas carols that will happily fill the chapel. Some find this liturgically discomforting. But there is a certain sensibility to this: Simbang Gabi Masses call us to more immediate and concrete preparations, both spiritually and materially, to realize our deep human longing and eagerness for the Lord’s coming this Christmas with joyfulness, as it also reminds us that God is already with us, he is in our midst.

I understand this when I see Simbang Gabi through the lenses of Gaudete Sunday (the 3^rd Sunday of Advent) for the latter heightens my appreciation of this very festive way of celebrating Christmas in the Philippines. On this Sunday, we light the rose candle on the Advent wreath and we hear in its Gospel reading John the Baptist’s message that the Holy One, the Messiah is indeed coming. Both of these remind us of what the responsorial psalm expresses so well: “Cry out with you and gladness; for among you is the great and Holy One of Israel” (Ps 12).

Indeed, we have much to look forward to this coming Christmas: “Behold, the Lord, the ruler of the kings of the earth, will come” (from A Shorter Morning and Evening Prayer of the Psalter of the Divine Office).

photo of traitional Filipino parol by adrian danker, sj

Many a time these past days, I have been asking myself if Advent is not also a time when God awaits our coming home to him.

The resounding refrain of many a homily or an article that we hear and read at Advent speaks of this as a season of joyful expectation: we await the coming of God’s gift of Immanuel. These texts lay before our gaze the beautifully hopeful image of an anticipation that will be fulfilled in time. The scripture readings for Masses in Advent echo this: our restless yearning for God to come into human space and time speaks of a deep human desire within each one of us for the One whose name is “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace" (Isaiah 9:6). Indeed, this coming, Isaiah prophesizes, will deliver us from the darkness that engulfs us and within which we wander about. "Those who live in a dark land, the light wil shine on them" (Isaiah 9:2). This radiant light will embrace and redeem us; it will renew everything in its sight.

Yet, my thoughts of late have revolved around this wonder: what if this season is a time for us to reflect on the possibility that God does wait patiently, expectantly, even anxiously, for us to come back from our far-away wanderings from him, not only now but always. Many of us, in small and great ways, are wandering about in darkness. Like the prodigal son, we keep running further and further away from all that is Good and True, foolishly forgetting, in the compromises we are so often and capably make, the generous and forgiving Father who only awaits our return when he will wholeheartedly embrace us and bestow upon us our rightful inheritance, our identities as heirs of his kingdom.

Indeed, coming home to God is the message John the Baptist preaches as he prepares the way for the coming Christ.

John went throughout the whole of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the words of the prophet Isaiah: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. … The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God. (Luke 3:3-6)

The message John preaches to one and all, then and now, is that of metanoia, of a change of heart, of our conversion from darkness to light, from hatred to love, from self to God and others.

Indeed, our preparations for Christmas can be so much richer when we can begin to appreciate Advent as time of coming home and entering once again into God’s presence. There, we can be one with him in joyful communion, no matter how wounded or sinful we are. With him, we can experience again the real meaning of Christmas, God's gift of love that is strikingly expressed in the “yes” the Son made to fulfill the Father’s desire that he empty himself to become poor to live among us, and being like us, to teach us to be more human and more divine.

And so, will you join me in making an effort to come home to God this Advent?

Christmas cheer abounds around town these days. It will most probably intensify once Advent begins tomorrow. For many Filipinos, this is the final stretch of the Yuletide season that always begins in the Philippines with the first “—ber” in the calendar, September.

Since then, we have heard joyful Christmas tunes resounding on the radio and MRT trains. We have seen stores, homes and streets gaily festooned with Christmas decorations and fairy lights, as we have also witnessed the slow but sure frenzy of hordes running around buying presents at the malls.

Last Tuesday evening, Yoht and I bought our first Christmas cards for our Jesuit brothers on regency in East Timor and studying Theology in Melbourne. At the beginning of this week, the first Christmas decorations went up on the Ateneo campus; many of these feature the traditional Filipino parol (a star-shaped lantern). Soon, the Jesuit communities on campus will begin to decorate our houses too. At last Sunday’s community meeting, we each randomly picked a name of a community member in Arrupe for whom we will be his Kris Kringle.

As in the past in our community, a Kris Kringle will pray for the one whose name he has drawn. The Kris Kringle will also make the effort to surprise him with small acts of kindness to help him get him into the good cheer of the season before presenting him with a simple gift at our community Christmas dinner. This is a nice tradition as almost all of us in Arrupe are foreigners, and this helps some of us overcome that poignant sense of having a blue, blue Christmas so far away from family and friends at this time.

In the parishes and apostolate areas we work in, plans are afoot for the coming Advent and Christmas celebrations, one of which will be the traditional nine-day novena of pre-dawn Simbang Gabi masses that precede Christmas Day. At the prison after-care community that I minister to, the boys have begun choir practices for the Christmas caroling they will do.

At this time of year, one of the most delightful sights along the Katipunan stretch of eateries and shops across the road from us is that of the yellow and orange lit Christmas tree, all decked out with ribbons and baubles, standing in the window of Cello's (a doughnut shop). This sight reminds me of Christmas, and God’s gift of his Son, the Prince of Light and Love. Indeed, what is Christmas but a celebration of the love of God for all humankind, always and eternally, in the gift of Immanuel, God with us.

Indeed, it’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas, everywhere one turns to at this time in Manila.

This buoyant sense of the coming Christmastide is true too for the poor. They may have so much less and need so much more, but their hearts too are aglow with the Christmas spirit. They too eagerly await Christmas and its message of goodwill and peace for all humankind. However, their sense of being “Christmassy” cannot be measured in materialistic terms of special presents bought for loved ones and holly and baubles to deck the halls, or of Christmas puddings and chocolates from Marks and Spencer and honey-glazed ham and wine from Rustan’s for their merry-making.

Theirs is a spirit of Christmas that is more interiorized. It is a spirit that manifests itself within, in a change of heart from the drudgery of daily survival to the inestimable yearning for all the good that Christmas promises.

One sees Christmas in their faces, particularly, in the eyes of the children. There’s a certain lifting up of the human spirit, a certain hope they seem to find at this time in the promise that there will be someone out there who will provide for their needs at Christmas time. They await with their empty hands for the little they need to get by this season: some basic food, and maybe a surprise of chocolate or cake for the young ones, to spread on their often bare tables…some clothes to dress and look dignified in…some respect from those of us who have plenty and who can no nothing more just and Christian this holy season than to greet them as brothers and sisters with a heartfelt “Maligayang Pasko!” (Filipino for Merry Christmas)

I sometimes wonder whether each of us can be more of a Santa Claus to them this Christmas than we have in the past, especially as our bountiful life allows us to sit here at the PC and log on into the world wide web while many of them cannot even begin to dream of accessing the Internet, let alone own a PC.

Perhaps, this Christmas, you and I can take the trouble to give something meaningful and beautiful to them from what we already and bountifully have. In this way, we can nourish their spirit and give them life. And maybe, just maybe, if many of us can do this in simple and generous ways, the message of Christmas, God’s gift of Light and Love, will become incarnate in their daily lives, and the miracle of Christmas multiplied many times over today.