Tuesday of the First Week of Advent

Lectionary: 176

Turning to the disciples in private he said, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.”

 

Advent and Christmas celebrate the desire of the nations, an expression found in the King James Version of Haggai 2:7, which is rendered in our NABRE Catholic version, the treasures of all the nations. Delight is another satisfactory rendering. Certainly, Advent is about desire, and Christmas is about treasures and delight.

This year, as the world waits for a vaccine against Covid-19, we know the desire to see and the desire to hear, of which Jesus speaks.  Indeed, many political and religious leaders – “prophets and kings” --  are eager to find a cure for this illness before the tremors of disruption collapse their house of cards! It has certainly brought down Mr. Trump; other leaders and parties may follow in more violent upheavals.

The gospels promise these continual disruptions in nature and human life as the Word of God disrupts the awkward, unfair arrangements we throw against it. If we’re not punished by floods, earthquakes, droughts, infestations and epidemics, we are visited by savage wars.

Today’s reading from the Prophet Isaiah promises peace with an extraordinary vision of adversaries – the wolf and the lamb, the calf and the lion, the child and the cobra -- lying down together in peaceful harmony. This irenic image often appears in our Christmas cards. If biologists cannot imagine a lion eating hay like the ox, we get the point. We have stories of saints and martyrs, of tamed monsters both animal and human, more outlandish than that.

Isaiah teaches us about the kind of peace we should hope for:

There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain;
for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD,
as water covers the sea.

“Knowledge of the Lord” is far more than a set of data or compiled facts. It surpasses a mastery of religious doctrines in all their subtlety. Infallibility might describe one’s knowledge of God; and, though it is righteous, it is not an arrogant confidence of being “right.”

When we look to the saints to tell us about knowledge of the Lord, they quietly point to Mary, the Mother of God; she who silently offers her son to Joseph, the shepherds, the magi, Simeon and Anna, Zechariah and Elizabeth, you and me.

Accepting the embrace of her Infant Son, we know the Lord. This knowledge does not stop to ask, “Am I worthy enough?” Babies do not ask their parents about their worthiness. We have more important concerns, like the protection and care of this Child, and attention to his needs and demands. Like any parent we must be taught by the Child how to care for him. Do we make mistakes? Of course! Do we get it wrong? Are we tired or discouraged? Do we sometimes want to pull back and think only of ourselves? 

Yes, but the Child is still there. Like any infant, he can absorb some mistakes. We try not to drop him, but those things happen sometimes. Toddlers bang their heads on tables, and wail aloud, and forget about it a moment later.

Joseph and Mary could not know how much sacrifice the Child would ask of them before they fled into Egypt, before they turned back in anguish to comb Jerusalem for him. All they knew was they had to act and there was neither cause nor time for self-doubt. They believed in the God who believed in them; they saw what prophets and kings long to see; and they bore the child.