Second Sunday of Advent

Lectionary: 4

Whatever was written previously was written for our instruction,
that by endurance and by the encouragement of the Scriptures
we might have hope.
May the God of endurance and encouragement
grant you to think in harmony with one another,
in keeping with Christ Jesus....

Christmas is sometimes anticipated as if it will accomplish and fulfill all the hopes and dreams of all the years. And when it’s over it sometimes feels as if our hopes have been disappointed. The toys the children had hoped for did not appear. The expected visitors did not come, or they stayed too long. The food was not like Momma used to make. The weather let us down. Someone got sick, or died, over the holidays. And suddenly it’s over. The Christmas music stops airing over the radio; the decorations grow stale and have to be taken down. It’s January already; and then February; and it’s all over, and we don’t talk about it anymore. 

Advent teaches us to hope. But, perhaps, not to expect. Or, to put it differently, whatever we expect will not have the aroma of Christmas cookies or baked ham, or the cheerful sound of Jingle Bells, much less the opulent materialism of Christmas presents. 

It will not afford the true peace we hope for, that peace which the world cannot give. It never happens. The mercy we look for concerns forgiveness of our sins, and not just a break from the tiresome routines of daily life. The justice that must govern God’s kingdom is far more subtle and beautiful than anything anyone can imagine. 

The Apostle Paul struggled to put into words the mystery which he intuited but could not describe. He promised that we shall, 

comprehend with all the holy ones its breadth and length and height and depth; and we shall know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, and be filled with all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:19)

That mysterious Kingdom of God is also more penetrating than anything we would dare to wish for. As the Letter to the Hebrews says, 

Indeed, the word of God is living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow, and able to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)

When I hear those words I think of the intense sorrow of grief when we have lost loved ones. As overwhelming as it is, and painful, it is also unbearably sweet and desirable; and we would not give it up for anything or anyone. As the scriptures say of Rachel and the stricken mothers in Bethlehem, we refuse to be consoled. 

In today's Gospel we don’t hear lighthearted messages of good cheer, peace, and love. Rather, the Good News sounds like a severe threat: 

“Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance.” 

Nor can we answer John the Baptist by saying, “Well, we’re Christians, baptized in the waters of salvation!” Saint John’s warning to the Pharisees applies to us as well, 

“Don’t say, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones.”

God can, and does, draw people to the truth even without our best efforts; and, perhaps, in spite of them! 

To put it differently, we need God to fulfill the life and purpose he has given us; he does not need us. He will  fulfill the promises he has made in his own way and his own time; and its appearance might be a serious disappointment to many pious people. 

Isaiah spoke of a holy remnant – a small piece of the original blanket – which survives the challenges, trials and obliterating forces of history. The Bible repeatedly shows us how God raises up a faithful remnant, even from tax collectors, prostitutes, eunuchs, and sinners. And finally, the Baptist pronounces another apocalyptic warning, 

“Even now the ax lies at the root of the trees.” 

So let’s not get too warm and comfy around the old Christmas tree just yet. There’s some serious spiritual work to be done, despite the demands of buying, writing, and mailing Christmas cards; along with shopping, cleaning, cooking, visiting, and hosting guests. Because their congregations are so busy during the holiday season,  some Christian churches cancel all Christmas Day events. No mass, no prayers, no songs, the church is cold and empty. They’re just too busy with the celebrations to celebrate the Birth of Our Savior. 

We can do better. We can prepare the way of the Lord. The Catholic Church calls us to Mass and Confession, to gentle fasting, prayer, and almsgiving. Hundreds of charities come at us during this last month of the year. Some offer tax discounts but most people give because they want to honor the Lord with a sacrifice of money. Many churches collect goods for the poor; and they need volunteers to sort through the stuff they collect. 

Advent is a time to look at the mess we have made of our lives and of the world, and to ask God to come and save us. It’s getting desperate here, and there is no other hope. Come Lord, save us from ourselves. 

Advent teaches us to wait, like the Prophet Habakkuk, 

I will stand at my guard post,

and station myself upon the rampart;

I will keep watch to see what he will say to me,

and what answer he will give to my complaint. (2:1)

And finally, Advent is a season of deep and quiet joy. Our God will come to save us. The Apostle James urges us, 

Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials,

for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.

And let perseverance be perfect, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.  (James 1:2)