The Opening Prayer/Collect for Mass on the First Sunday of Advent abounds with powerful words: “resolve,” “run forth,” “righteous,” “worthy.” It reads: “Grant your faithful, we pray, almighty God, the resolve to run forth to meet your Christ with righteous deeds at his coming, so that, gathered at his right hand, they may be worthy to possess the heavenly Kingdom. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, for ever and ever.”

Credit where it’s due: The first time I was asked to reflect on that prayer was about 45 years ago. Our college French teacher, Fr. Edward Skrocki, focused on its call to “run forth to meet your Christ!”

That’s not lethargy, it’s not indifference, it’s not even “I’ll get to it.” From its very beginning, Advent calls us to “run forth” — not to the mall or the online sale or the Christmas party — but to rush to “meet your Christ.” It’s the only “Christmas rush” that really matters!

Compared to Lent, the other preparatory season for a great feast, Advent is fleeting; it’s more or less half the time of Lent. Two weeks from today, we’ll begin the Christmas Novena, the nine day countdown preceding the Solemnity when Advent’s focus shifts from Christ’s future Second Coming to his historical First.

Sunday’s Collect centers precisely on that Second Coming, because none of us were “gathered at his right hand” beside the manger. Indeed, except for the last nine days of Advent, the whole season is centered on preparing for Jesus’ Second Coming. Which is nothing more (or less) than completion of the First.

Fr. Skrocki emphasized the “running forth.” Advent wants us to run, like children, “to meet your Christ.” When do people run? People run the race of salvation. We just celebrated All Saints and All Souls Day, reminding us that salvation history is not just about other people. It includes me and people I know. Towards the end of his life, St. Paul says in 1 Tim 4:7-8 that he has “run the race” and now awaits the crown of victory. Salvation is a race toward a goal, toward “meeting your Christ.” It is a race crowned with a palm of victory. And while its tempo may be paced, if Lent is a marathon, then Advent is a quick sprint.

When do people run? They run from danger. St. Peter reminds us that the devil prowls like a “roaring lion, looking for someone to devour” (1 Pt 5:8). Prey do not hang around their predators; they flee. That’s what Advent is for.

People also run to those they love. When I was first a father, one of my greatest joys was walking up the stairs to see my little daughter Alexandra run out onto the landing. How many husbands and fathers are most impressed when their arrival at home is greeted by people actually running towards them, not simply acknowledging their arrival? That’s why we pray to “rush forward” to “meet your Christ,” who is the Father’s personal gift of Love (1 Jn 4:8).

Finally, we don’t run forward empty-handed. The Collect wants us to rush forward with something, something specific: “righteous deeds.” In the end, it’s the one thing we can give God.

It’s 45 years since I sat through an introductory college humanities class at St. Mary’s in Orchard Lake, Michigan, but one of the elements from that class that has stayed with me was reading an English medieval morality play, “Everyman.” Everyman is, true to its title, each of us. He stands before his mortality, not wanting to “run forward” alone. All the potential companions — friends and wealth — decline to accompany him. Only good deeds (enlivened by sacramental grace) are willing. It’s the one companion God wants to meet us with.

If you have not read “Everyman,” let me suggest it to you for Advent reading. Take it at your own speed, ponder it, meditate on it, think about how what “Everyman” is saying at that moment fits your life. It will be a good Advent companion.

(A link to “Everyman” is here.)