Advent is Holy Incompleteness

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hrist comes in three ways—and the one we often forget matters most.

St Bernard of Clairvaux reminds us that Christ’s coming is not only about the past or the future. We easily remember Bethlehem, where Christ became our redemption, and we eagerly anticipate his final return, when his glory will be revealed. But St Bernard speaks of a “middle coming,” a hidden arrival that happens in the present moment. In this coming, Christ becomes our rest and consolation. He works quietly, shaping our hearts through prayer, through surprising graces, and through the people who challenge us, love us, and help us grow. Advent, then, is not merely about looking back or looking ahead. It is about being attentive—here and now—to the Christ who comes to us daily, quietly but faithfully.

Advent is temporary—because waiting forms the heart.

Advent has a beginning and an end, a brief season of holy incompleteness. It reminds us that life itself is a journey of waiting—waiting for healing, waiting for clarity, waiting for God. We might think of a large, unfinished puzzle. The pieces are scattered, edges missing, and yet we trust that a greater design is slowly taking shape. We wait as each piece falls into place. That is the posture of Advent, the hope we celebrate in the first week, symbolized by the Prophet’s Candle—the purple candle of hope.

Pope Francis deepens this insight by speaking of hope as an anchor. An anchor doesn’t pull us backward; it holds us steady in the present while we wait for what is still unfolding. Even before we see the full picture, the promise already holds us. In the same way, Advent teaches us that the future is already touching the present, grace is already stirring, and what we long for has already begun.

Peace that prepares, not simply comforts.

On the second Sunday of Advent, the church leads us to John the Baptist—the voice crying out in the wilderness. His words are not gentle; they are meant to awaken us. His message is peace, but not a peace that merely calms our feelings. John calls us to a peace that rearranges our lives, that straightens paths grown crooked, that clears room for God where we have allowed noise and clutter to take over. This is why his cry is both urgent and hopeful: “Prepare the way of the Lord!”

True peace is not the absence of conflict; it is the presence of God’s order, justice, and compassion. Second Sunday of Advent teaches us that peace is not passive. It mends what is broken, confronts what is sinful, and draws all peoples into the promise God intends for the world. And so we wait—not with resignation, but with readiness. As we light the second candle, the Candle of Peace, we remember that God’s future is already reshaping our present. We prepare the way, not out of fear, but with hope: the One who comes will set things right. Fr JM Manzano SJ