The liturgical year builds upon and sanctifies the annual flow of the seasons. The cosmic cycle testifies to the order of God’s creation and carries lessons within it, offering times of abundance and scarcity, greater brightness and also darkness. This cycle, stretching back beyond memory, may seem unending to men who live but seventy years, or eighty for the strong, as the Psalmist puts it. But 2,025 years ago an occurrence disrupted its normal course. The Creator entered the cosmic cycle to straighten out its circularity, pointing to something more linear: an end and perfection beyond it.
Christmas comes at the beginning of winter for a reason, for the light has shone in the darkness and has not been overcome by it. The days become longer from the birth of the Saviour, representing the hope his coming brings. Joseph Ratzinger indicated how the historical and cosmic together point to Christ’s coming as the great light that dawns upon the world. “That is why the calendar of the Christian feasts is not to be manipulated at will. The ‘hour’ of Jesus makes its appearance, again and again, within the unity of cosmic and historical time. Through the feast we enter into the rhythm of creation and into God’s plan for human history” (Spirit of the Liturgy).
The Ember Days of Advent come the week before Christmas specifically to call our attention to the turning of the seasons that surround the great feast. Known in Latin as the quattuor tempora, “the four times”, the Ember Days have marked the calendar of the Roman Church since the beginning. St Leo the Great held that Ember Days could be traced back to apostolic times, making them older than the feast of Christmas itself, although Pope Callixtus, who reigned from 217 to 222, is given credit for formalising their observance. The Romans generally marked the beginning of new seasons with times of celebration and prayer.
Rather than celebration, the Ember Days focus on prayer and penance, thanking God for his providence in providing for our needs through the fruits of the earth and fasting to show dependence upon him as the highest good. Because they were linked to the seasons, they were celebrated four times a year, involving prayer and fasting on a Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Though rarely observed, they have not been removed from the calendar. They occur during Advent, following St Lucy’s feast on 13 December, the first full week of Lent, the week following Pentecost, and finally the middle of September, traditionally following the feast of the Holy Cross on 14 September. They also became days focused on praying particularly for priests, often serving as days for ordinations.
One of the greatest liturgical writers of the last two hundred years, Venerable Dom Prosper Guéranger, described the purpose of these days: “Holy Church comes claiming from her children the tribute of Penance, which, from the earliest ages of Christianity, was looked upon as a solemn consecration of the Seasons… The beginnings of the Winter, Spring, and Autumn quarters were sanctified by abstinence and fasting, and each of them, in turn, has witnessed heaven’s blessing falling upon their respective three months” (“Ember Days in September”, The Liturgical Year). The Ember Days seek to bless and sanctify the year by drawing Christians together in prayer and penance.
There are a number of reasons why it makes sense for us to observe these days. First, we have become out of touch with the rhythm of the seasons in our technological age. We take our food for granted, and the Ember Days help us to stop and thank God for the bounty he has given us. Second, Catholics have become somewhat lax in the observance of penance, with only two days of light fasting required for the whole year. Dom Guéranger spoke of a “tribute of penance” we should offer, and these days help us to present a fitting sacrifice of praise and penance to God. Finally, as these days have been connected to clergy, they offer us a great opportunity to pray for our priests, their sanctification, and for vocations.
The Ember Days this month, coming right before Christmas, offer a particular witness to the need for Advent asceticism. Though it is not uncommon to hear the claim that penance does not belong in this joyful, anticipatory season, it would not exist otherwise. The Church has always insisted on a fast before the feast, translating Lenten practices to other times of year. At times it was known as St Martin’s Lent, beginning after his feast on 12 November, and in the East Philip’s Fast, which begins only a couple of days later on 14 November. Slowly, however, Advent’s penitential nature has slipped away, and in our secular culture it has become a time of anticipatory feasting and celebration, leaving little room for asceticism.
It is hard to push back against the tide of Christmas celebration in Advent. The Ember Days, which fall this year on 17, 19, and 20 December, call us to at least three days of fasting and more intense prayer. Perhaps for three days we can say no to the treats, shopping, and pop music that surround us. If Advent focuses on anticipation, if we pull back at least a little, it will be easier to approach the manger hungry for something more. Pausing on the darkest days of the year for prayer may make it easier to perceive the coming of the light, marking the definitive turning point of history and the redemption of the seemingly endless cycle of life and death.
R Jared Staudt is Head of Content for Exodus 90
