REFLECTION:

(The next series of reflections will focus on the O Antiphons. )

My sister is eight months pregnant and due to give birth to her fourth son in January 2026. Recently, I’ve noticed a change. As she draws closer to her due date, everything about the pregnancy has become more intense. She is more tired. Her body feels heavier. Her back and legs ache. There is swelling, discomfort, and a deep weariness. All of this is a sign of something important: the birth is near.

The Church experiences something very similar as we draw closer to Christmas. As Advent reaches its final days, the Church’s prayer becomes more focused, more urgent, and more intense. Beginning on December 17, the Church shifts into the prayer of the O Antiphons—ancient cries of longing that rise from the heart of the Church as she prepares to welcome the birth of Christ. These prayers tell us that the waiting is almost over. Just as a mother’s body prepares for birth, the Church prepares her heart.

In Lent, the Church gives us Holy Week, a sacred buildup that leads us step by step through Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. Advent does not have a Holy Week in the same way, but the O Antiphons serve almost like an Advent Holy Week. They slow us down, deepen our prayer, and help us enter more fully into the mystery we are about to celebrate. They are the Church’s way of saying: Pay attention—the moment is near.

The Church begins this sacred countdown with the first O Antiphon:

“O Wisdom of our God Most High,

guiding creation with power and love:

come to teach us the path of knowledge.”

This opening prayer is striking because it does not ask for signs, miracles, or solutions. Instead, it asks for Wisdom. In Scripture, wisdom is not simply intelligence or information. Wisdom is God at work in creation—ordering chaos, shaping life, and guiding history with patience and love. To call Christ “Wisdom” is to recognize Him not only as a teacher of truth, but as Truth itself, made flesh.

It is significant that as Christmas draws near, the Church begins not with action, but with humility. Before asking Christ to heal, restore, or fix what is broken, we first ask Him to teach us. This prayer acknowledges a difficult truth: much of our struggle comes not from lack of effort, but from walking the wrong path. We live in a world filled with knowledge, yet we often lack wisdom. We are busy and informed, but still searching for direction. Like children, we admit that we do not know the way on our own.

This first O Antiphon reminds us that preparing for Christmas is not primarily about decorations, schedules, or gifts. It is about learning how to live rightly—with God, with others, and with ourselves. Wisdom teaches us when to slow down, when to let go, when to trust, and when to wait. Just as a mother cannot rush birth, we cannot rush grace. Wisdom forms patience within us and creates space for God to work.

The antiphon ends with a simple but urgent plea: “Come.” As these final days of Advent unfold, the Church places herself in a posture of longing and learning. We ask Christ not only to be born in Bethlehem long ago, but to be born anew in our lives—guiding our choices, shaping our hearts, and leading us home. And so we pray with the Church of every age: O Wisdom of our God Most High, come.