Saturday of the Third Week of Advent

Lectionary: 199

He will sit refining and purifying silver,
and he will purify the sons of Levi,
Refining them like gold or like silver
that they may offer due sacrifice to the LORD.


In the Catholic imagination, Saint John the Baptist is often supplanted by two lesser scriptural persons, Mary and Joseph. There are solid theological reasons for Mary's preeminence; she is the sinless, immaculate Church who remains forever inspired, maternal and obedient. Joseph represents the heroic father who silently and without hesitation sacrifices everything for his wife and son. When marriage in the secular culture is replaced by "cohabitation with benefits and without children" we must celebrate Mary and Joseph. 
Unfortunately, there are also reasons to overlook the Baptist. He is the prophet who disturbs people, even as an infant. Elizabeth's family and friends complained, "There is no one among your relatives who has this name." 
The Lord speaks to us as a reassuring father and comforting mother, and as a scolding prophet. John is the scold.
Historians describe how the Church lost its prophetic edge when it became the official religion of the (doomed) Roman Empire. When the decadent government fell under the pressures of internal corruption and external threat, bishops and priest stepped forward to govern. Saint Augustine's City of God lent credence to the notion that a theocracy should replace empire. 
At that point, historians say, the Holy Spirit drove men and women into the hinterlands beyond the cities where they could live in hermitages and monasteries. Scandalized by the compromises of a sacralized government they tried to live the Gospel in its purity, without the complexities of marriage, relatives and children.
That effort would bear much fruit, especially as the monasteries taught civility, preserved learning and gave birth to universities; but by the 16th century reforming Europeans were ready to take back the authority, wealth and land the monks had amassed. 
Finally, in the 20th century and the Second Vatican Council, the Church admitted we were improved by the loss of civil authority and the Papal States. Hopefully, after being relieved of these burdens the Church can resume its ministry of prophecy.

But challenges remain, especially given our history. We have supported warfare and blessed it with a "just war theory," as if wars need justification. (They happen anyway.) We have reluctantly admitted the state should not execute criminals, although bishops condemned "heretics" to death. Even in the United States where the Church could never declare war or execute prisoners we owned slaves and hesitated to evangelize non-European immigrants. We reluctantly opposed racism and environmental degradation. Even as the pastor complained about consumerism he knew many of his parishioners were merchants; they hoped for -- prayed for -- a bountiful Christmas. We found our prophetic voice in the abortion controversy but have been whipsawed by the "priest pedophilia scandal." Often we demand that the world show mercy to the needy; as often they scold our hypocrisy. 

And so John the Baptist still takes a back seat to Mary and Joseph, despite his preeminence in the four Gospels. During this Holy Season we hear the voice of one crying in the wilderness and we confess our sins. His complaints are justified. We acknowledge our guilt and celebrate the Birth of Jesus. For, as the Prodigal Father said, "We have to celebrate!"