Homily: 3rd Sunday in Advent – Cycle A
Yesterday,
I was talking with a friend and we were reflecting on the fact that, in the
not-so-distant past, if you moved away from your hometown—or your home country—you
were forced to celebrate holidays in the place where you were. In other words, in the past, if you moved
away, there was little expectation that you would come “home for the holidays”. This is because, in the past, travel was
difficult, at best, and ordinarily very dangerous. Dangerous both because of exposure to the
unpredictable nature of weather as well as barely formed roads, unreliable
means of transportation, and the constant threat of encountering thieves along
the way. I remarked that it is something
of a miracle that we live in a place and time in which we can travel freely,
safely, and comfortably.
As
I reflected further on this miracle, I began to lament it. Not the safety and comfort of modern means of
transportation, of course, but rather the loss of the sense of the seriousness
that travel once demanded. I mention
this today because, in order to understand what our scriptures and our liturgy
are inviting us to hear, I think that we need to recover that sense of
seriousness that travel once demanded. ///
Over
the last two weeks, we’ve been hearing from the prophet Isaiah about the
glorious return of the Israelites to Jerusalem and of how Jerusalem will be
remade as a city more glorious than any other city in the world. We heard also of the one who would lead the
Israelites in their return and in the rebuilding of the city and God’s temple
there. This week, the prophecy points to
the upcoming journey of return for the Israelites, and it can help us to
understand how we are to approach our ongoing pilgrimage on earth towards the
kingdom of heaven. ///
Certainly,
when the Israelites heard the prophecy about their return and the restoration
of the holy city, they were filled with great joy. Perhaps, however, when they began to consider
the necessary journey from the pagan cities of the Babylonian empire to Judea,
they began to lose heart. The way would
be long and arduous, passing through much deserted land where finding water and
food would be difficult, at best. Thus,
God inspired Isaiah to declare to them: “The desert and the parched land will
exalt; the steppe will rejoice and bloom. They will bloom with abundant
flowers, and rejoice with joyful song.”
In other words, “Even though the way of return will pass through
difficult and unpredictable terrain, do not lose heart! The way will be made
joyful because of your triumph, so much so that the earth itself will rejoice!”
Isaiah’s
prophecy continues to say, “Strengthen the hands that are feeble, make firm the
knees that are weak, say to those whose hearts are frightened: Be strong, fear
not! Here is your God, he comes with vindication; with divine recompense he
comes to save you.” Again, these are
words meant to inspire. “Do you lament
at the journey because so many among you are weak? Do not lament! The
all-powerful God will be with you to strengthen the weak and cure all who are
disabled, so that all might make this journey in joy and no one will be left
behind.” In other words, “Yes, the
journey home will be difficult, but do not despair for God will be with us;
just as he was with our ancient forefathers when they journeyed forty years
through the desert to enter the Promised Land.”
Do
you see now why I lament the loss of the sense of the seriousness of travel in
our time? By God’s amazing grace, we are
on a journey to return to our native land—the paradise lost by our first
parents—and the way is difficult and dangerous.
Because travel has become so easy for us today (and our lives, in
general, have become so comfortable), we have been conditioned to lose heart when
we encounter difficulties and disruptions along the way. This has affected us spiritually, such that,
when remaining faithful to God becomes difficult or arduous (as it often does
in this world), we are tempted to despair and to question our faith. Isaiah’s prophecy is a call to remember that
God is with us on this journey and, therefore, we must rejoice; and that, even
if we don’t, God will cause the desert lands to bloom with flowers in a sign
that the whole earth is rejoicing for what God has done, is doing, and will do.
///
Friends,
this is what this season of Advent—and, specifically, this Sunday, called “Gaudete”—is
calling us to do: to look beyond the difficulties of the journey and to
rejoice, because the presence of God is not only something that we will enjoy
when we arrive at our destination, but rather is something that we enjoy now,
during our journey. This rejoicing
demands patience, as Saint James reminds us in the second reading today. And patience, as we recall, is the spiritual
strength to endure difficulties and frustrations in a spirit of hope and
charity. Our joy that God has come, is
with us now, and will come again strengthens our patience and, thus, our
communion with one another as we journey together towards our heavenly home.
Our
Blessed Mother, Our Lady of Guadalupe, is another prophet of this hope. When she appeared, these lands were dead in
sin and with the worship of false gods.
Through her appearance, she declared, “Rejoice! For the all-powerful God
is present here; and he will lead you into the joy of his kingdom.” For nearly 500 years, the loving presence of
Our Lady and her prophecy have led generations of people to follow Christ and
to hope in his coming.
My
brothers and sisters, God has called us out of our exile in the darkness of sin
and death and is leading us on our journey to our native place, which is
paradise. Although the way is difficult
and dangerous, we must rejoice, for God is with us: guiding us and protecting us
on our way. Do you feel weak? Rejoice, and he will strengthen you. Are you crippled and unable to move? Rejoice, and he will heal you. Are you afraid? Rejoice, and he will give you courage.
Above
all things do not lose hope! John the
Baptist is a sign for us. He wore camel
hair for a shirt, a leather belt, and ate locusts and wild honey… he didn’t
have it all together! Yet Jesus
declared, “among those born of women there has been none greater than John the
Baptist.” John did not lose hope, even
in prison (which is why he sent his disciples to ask Jesus the question… for he
refused to let his hope be diminished). Advent
calls us to this same radical hope: that even when we don’t have it all
together and so fail, that even when the way gets too difficult and dangerous
for us to bear, we must still keep our eyes fixed on Christ and hope for his
coming, because it is in this hope that we will be saved. ///
Our
Lady is our model of hope. As we offer
our sacrifice of thanksgiving here today, let us follow her example, who held
onto hope, even while she stood sorrowful at the foot of the cross. Then, let us go forth from here in joy, ready
to meet our Savior when he comes.
Given in Spanish at Saint Paul Parish: Marion, IN –
December 10th, 2022
Given in Spanish at Saint Joseph Parish: Delphi, IN and Our
Lady of Mt. Carmel Parish: Carmel, IN – December 11th, 2022
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