Memorial of Saint Ambrose

Good Shepherd
window at St Meinrad

Comfort, give comfort to my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her
that her service is at an end,
her guilt is expiated;
Indeed, she has received from the hand of the Lord
double for all her sins.

If the Christmas spirit has not caught up with you yet, surely this morning's reading from Isaiah will bring it on. As soon as I read it I hear Handel’s tenor singing out to all the world, “Comfort ye my people, says your God. Says your God!”

Comfort is what God wants for us and all the more as he sees us turning away from the good path he has laid out for us. There is so much distress in the world, so many dangers and traps and snares. We do ourselves endless harm and its all so unnecessary.

Christmas should be that moment when we consider what is truly valuable in our life. It is all about gift. God gives so much so freely and we need only to say please and thank you.

But even gift can become a snare to trap the unwary. How many sad souls are out there right now wandering the malls searching for that perfect gift? They’re looking in all the wrong places.

Philosophers and preachers ponder American’s craving for things. Economists wonder how much longer we can build an economy on consumption. (Fascinating, that word; in the 19^th century tuberculosis was known as consumption.) Is it realistic that so much of our welfare depends upon Black Friday and Cyber Monday and the Christmas shopping season? Won’t most people eventually tire of entertaining themselves with stuff? Won’t consumption finally eat out our ability to enjoy, love, eat and breathe?  

Most people finally realize that they cannot find pleasure in more pleasure. Many young people seek ultimate pleasure in alcohol, drugs, thrills and sex but they grow up -- and wise up -- eventually. Even obsessive compulsives weary of their tiresome needs.

The 17^th century preacher George Herbert predicted the end of 21^st century consumption in his poem:

The Pulley

When God at first made man,

Having a glass of blessings standing by,

"Let us," said he, "pour on him all we can;

Let the world's riches, which dispersed lie,

Contract into a span."

So strength first made a way;

Then beauty flow'd, then wisdom, honour, pleasure;

When almost all was out, God made a stay,

Perceiving that alone of all his treasure,

Rest in the bottom lay.

"For if I should," said he,

"Bestow this jewel also on my creature,

He would adore my gifts instead of me,

And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature:

So both should losers be.

"Yet let him keep the rest,

But keep them with repining restlessness;

Let him be rich and weary, that at least,

If goodness lead him not, yet weariness

May toss him to my breast."

George Herbert

1593-1632