Thursday of the Second Week of Advent

Optional Memorial of St. Damasus I, Pope

Brief Background:

St. Damasus I served as pope from 366 to 384 AD, during a crucial period in the early Church. Born in Rome to a Christian family, he was known for his deep love of Scripture, his strong leadership, and his devotion to preserving the true teachings of the faith during a time of confusion and division.

Damasus worked tirelessly to defend the Church from heresies—especially Arianism, which denied the divinity of Christ. He strengthened the unity of the Church, supported monastic life, and restored important martyrs’ shrines throughout Rome. He was also the pope who commissioned St. Jerome to produce the Latin Vulgate, the first authoritative Latin translation of the Bible, which shaped Western Christianity for centuries.

Damasus had a special devotion to the early martyrs, often composing poetic inscriptions honoring their sacrifice. Because of this, he is remembered as a pope who connected the Church of his time with the faith and courage of the first Christians. He is the patron saint of archaeologists.

REFLECTION:

I was taught from a young age that when you greet someone, you offer your right hand with a firm handshake. A handshake is more than a greeting—it’s a sign of honesty, peace, and respect. Even in the Church, the right hand carries a sacred symbolism. We make the Sign of the Cross with it, a priest blesses with it, and anointing is done with the right thumb. In earlier centuries, a man could not even be ordained without his right hand, because it was seen as essential for blessing and serving God’s people. The right hand has always symbolized strength, dignity, and purpose.



With that in mind, hear God’s words in Isaiah 41:13: “I am the LORD, your God, who grasp your right hand.” God does not take hold of our weaker hand. He grasps our right hand—the hand we use to work, to lead, to sign, to carry, to steady ourselves. The hand we rely on the most. The hand that often trembles beneath responsibilities we try so hard to manage on our own.

It is as if God says: “Give Me the part of you that feels the pressure to be strong." “Let Me hold the hand that carries your worries.”

To grasp someone’s hand is to come close—closer than words, closer than advice. It is to match their pace, steady their steps, and assure them, “I won’t let you fall.” God doesn’t stand at a distance shouting instructions. He comes beside us, takes our hand, and walks with us.

This promise gently leads us into the meaning of Advent.

Advent is the season when we slow down enough to feel our need for God again. It is the season that reminds us we cannot save ourselves, cannot force solutions, cannot control every outcome. Advent invites us to wait—not passively, but faithfully—because Someone is coming who holds the answers we cannot produce on our own.

And into this waiting, God whispers the same promise He spoke to Israel: "Do not fear. I am holding your right hand.”

As we journey toward Bethlehem, we walk with a God who does not remain far above us but chooses to come near—to take flesh, to take on our weakness, to take our hand. The Christ child whose tiny fingers wrapped around Mary and Joseph’s hands is the same God who now reaches for ours.

So let this Advent be a time of letting God hold the hand that holds everything together. Let Him steady your heart where it wavers. Let Him strengthen your courage where it thins. Let Him guide your steps where the path feels uncertain.

For He is Emmanuel—God with us. And He is the Lord your God, who grasps your right hand.