We begin a new day of the Little Journeys of the Virgin, an Advent path that prepares us interiorly for Christmas. It is not just about remembering the journey of Mary and Joseph, but about walking with them, learning to wait, to accept detachment, and to prepare the heart for the adoration of the Child who is coming. Each day places us in a stage of this spiritual itinerary, inviting us to advance with fidelity, silence, and hope toward Bethlehem.
OPENING PRAYER
Before beginning the journey
Lord our God,
Eternal Father, origin of every fulfilled promise,
in the silence of Advent we set out on the path before You.
We know where we are going and with Whom we walk.
You have willed that your Son not come suddenly, but slowly,
gestated in the faith of a Virgin,
guarded by the silence of a just man,
awaited step by step, day after day.
And in that humble path you have taught us
that salvation does not burst forth with clamor,
but arrives walking little by little.
Today we want to accompany Mary of Nazareth,
Immaculate Virgin and believing Mother,
in her silent march toward Bethlehem.
We want to walk with Saint Joseph, blessed Patriarch,
faithful man who sustains without possessing the mystery that saves the world.
And we want to prepare the heart
to welcome the Child who is coming,
the eternal Word who becomes flesh
without demanding place or forcing doors,
without imposing His Love.
Purify, Lord, our memory,
so that the path may not be merely remembrance, but conversion.
Awaken in us a simple hope, capable of rejoicing even in rejection,
and a humble joy that does not depend on being consoled, but on knowing oneself loved.
May these Little Journeys teach us to walk slowly,
to not anticipate the end, nor flee from weariness, nor close the heart.
Make us interior pilgrims, so that, when we arrive in Bethlehem,
we do not pass by, but know how to adore.
Through Jesus Christ, your Son, who comes to us in poverty
and lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
and is God forever and ever.
Amen.
Today the path takes on a new gravity. We have not yet entered the city, but Jerusalem makes itself felt. It is not fully seen, but it is sensed. The air changes. The ground seems charged with memory. Here every stone speaks, though no one listens.
I walk with you, my Virgin, and I perceive in your step a mixture of recollection and strength. You do not look with curiosity, but with respect. You know that this city will welcome and reject, bless and condemn, sing hosannas and demand blood.
—»Little Virgin» —I dare to say to You—, «what do you feel as you pass so close to this city?»
You do not respond immediately. You walk a few more steps. Then you say:
—»I feel that God loves even those who do not yet know how to love Him.»
I treasure those words. Jerusalem does not know that the Awaited Messiah passes so close, hidden, silent, sustained by your faith. And I recognize myself in that city: full of temples and distractions, rites and forgetfulness.
I approach Joseph. Today he walks more serious, more concentrated. The donkey’s halter is firm in his hand.
—»Nazarene Patriarch» —I say to him—, «how does one walk alongside what will be pain without hardening the heart?»
He responds with a grave, serene voice:
—»By loving without anticipating the suffering. Each thing in its time.»
And I understand that today the journey teaches me not to anticipate the cross, not to burden myself with pains that God has not yet asked for, but also not to flee from the truth when it makes itself felt.
—»Mother» —I confess to You—, «so often I want a faith without Jerusalem, without conflict, without surrender.»
You look at me with a firm tenderness.
—»The faith that avoids Jerusalem never reaches Bethlehem.»
We continue walking. We do not enter. We pass nearby. That is enough. God does not want everything at once. The Divine Redeemer still grows in silence: the hour has not yet come. And today I learn to walk close to the mystery without possessing it, to respect God’s times, without forcing.
Prayer
Mary of Nazareth, my Lady,
You who pass by Jerusalem without stopping,
teach me to love without demanding immediate fruits,
to remain faithful when the heart senses the cross
but does not yet understand it.
Guard me from the fear that flees
and from the voluntarism that rushes ahead.
Make me docile to God’s times.
Joseph, Nazarene Patriarch, my Father and Lord,
teach me your strong prudence,
that which does not ignore pain but neither anticipates it.
Guide me when the path becomes grave,
when faith ceases to be light
and begins to be true.
And You, my Savior,
Awaited Messiah who today passes hidden beside the Holy City,
do not allow me to ignore You like Jerusalem,
nor to reduce You to my schemes.
Come into my life with your full truth,
when You will, as You will.
Flower of Galilee that grows in silence,
make of my heart a land that does not expel You when You arrive.
By: Mons. Alberto José González Chaves