Advent, December 19th

Israel had a long wait before any novelties in salvation history occurred. After the last prophets in the Old Testament spoke it was a few centuries before the angel Gabriel was sent to John the Baptist’s father in order to announce that John would be the prophet coming just before the Messiah. Zechariah was an observant Jew, following the Law and fulfilling his duties faithfully, but after hoping for a child old age probably convinced him nothing new was forthcoming. His faith was still there, but it was tired. So when the angel Gabriel came and announced not only that he was to have a son, but that his son would be the prophet who’d immediately precede Messiah he responded with a tired and insufficient faith: he asked how an old man could beget a son.

Gabriel’s reaction was almost, “what, an angel of God appearing to you is not enough of a sign?” Zechariah needed “quiet time” to process everything that was happening and to see that what the angel announced would come to pass. Zechariah could represent all of salvation history before that first Advent, religious, waiting, but tired. Every Advent can present that same danger, which is why we need to impose “quiet time” on ourselves to process the incredible mysteries of God that are unfolding in these days: that the Word should become baby and dwell among us, that God would want to live a human life to show his love and solidarity with us, and lay down his life for us.

A lifetime of quiet is not enough to fully fathom that mystery, but if we don’t try then, like Zechariah, we’ll be silent spectators to the incredible things God has planned. Let’s live these last few days of Advent in silent wonder and openness to whatever God wants to announce to us this Christmas season.

Readings: Judges 13:2–7, 24–25a; Psalm 71:3–4a, 5–6ab, 16–17; Luke 1:5–25.

Advent, December 18th

As part of the last week of Advent the Gospel turns to another important member of the Holy Family, St. Joseph. As the First Reading reminds us today, as well as the lineage recalled yesterday, the Messiah was to be born into the House of David. It is thanks to St. Joseph that it happened. However, as today’s Gospel reminds us, it was not all cut and dry for Joseph; he knew he was not Jesus’ biological father, and that apparently meant adultery on Mary’s part, calling for action to be taken.

The Law was clear on how adulteresses should be treated, but somehow Joseph knew in his heart that he should not expose Mary to cold brutality that the Law apparently condoned in those cases (adulteresses shunned and even stoned). He had a dilemma in his heart and he felt obliged to opt for the Law, but in the most compassionate manner possible: a parting of ways with Mary through a quiet divorce. So God resorted to a channel of communication that hearkened back to the age of the Patriarchs: a dream. Joseph had already intuited in his heart that the raw Law was not the answer, but he hadn’t felt he could go beyond it, just temper it with forgiveness and compassion. In the dream the angel communicated to him that the Holy Spirit itself was responsible for Mary’s pregnancy and that Jesus would be the Messiah. Joseph obeyed and welcomed not only Mary and Jesus into his home, but into the House of David.

If it seems sometimes that God has to resort to a back channel to communicate with us, to lower our resistance in order to speak to us, we must remember that the most fundamental means of communication is love. It doesn’t discard justice; rather, it tempers it and permits space for mercy and compassion. When we don’t understand what Our Lord is asking from us, or why he may have permitted a troubling situation, let’s strive to respond with the same fairness and compassion as St. Joseph. The Lord will make sure his message gets through to us somehow.

Readings: Jeremiah 23:5–8; Psalm 72:1–2, 12–13, 18–19; Matthew 1:18–25.

 

Advent, December 17th

We’re now just a week away from Christmas, and in the last week of Advent the liturgy starts to reflect that we’re in the home stretch. Today’s Gospel is the beginning of the Gospel according to Matthew, and Matthew wants to start salvation history through Our Lord’s family tree. Through his family on earth God in His Son has become part of human history in order to redeem all of humanity. His Incarnation and birth are the fulfillment of the promises God has made throughout salvation history, and Matthew acknowledges this using genealogical language.

In calling Jesus the “son of Abraham” is he showing Our Lord to be the inheritor of the promise God made to Abraham that through him all nations would be blessed (see Genesis 12:2–3). This in part is why Jesus’ family tree not only includes Jews, but those from other nations as well, such as Ruth. In calling Jesus the son of David and the Christ Matthew is testifying that Jesus is the answer to the promise recalled in today’s First Reading: Judah in his descendants would reign (the symbolism of the scepter and mace) and receive tribute and homage without end. The Lion of Judah mentioned in the First Reading is Jesus because he fulfills that promise. King David was a descendant of Judah, and Our Lord is a descendant of David: the Lord promised David through the prophet Nathan that his dynasty would endure forever (see 2 Samuel 7:12–16), and in Christ Our King it does.

We consider Abraham our father in faith because it was thanks to his faith that the promises were fulfilled. Mary receives a prominent place in this family tree thanks to her fiat that made her the Mother of God and of Our Savior. We’ve been adopted into this wonderful family through faith and baptism; let’s strive for a place of honor in it as well through a life of faith.

Readings: Genesis 49:2, 8–10; Psalm 72:1–2, 3–4ab, 7–8, 17; Matthew 1:1–17.

3rd Week of Advent, Wednesday

In today’s Gospel we see a glimpse of when the Advent and Christmas party is over. John the Baptist has dedicated himself to his mission of prophet to the Messiah, and now he’s in a dungeon for it at the whims of a cruel tyrant whose “wife” wants him dead. He also knows that prophets usually don’t live to a ripe old age. So the doubt comes: was it worth it? Is Jesus really the one? John’s disciples are bringing him news, but it’s no surprise that in the gloom of a dungeon your outlook can get equally gloomy.

What he decides to do shows great humility: imagine sending your own disciples to ask whether you’ve been prophesying the right thing all along. This shows humility, but also faith: he asks Jesus with simplicity whether he is the one or not, and doesn’t demand proof. Our Lord responds by connecting his miracles with the prophecies of Isaiah, with one important omission and one important addition. He omits the prophecy about freeing the captives, but he makes a point of mentioning that he has raised people from the dead. Therefore he tells John that his liberation from prison is not forthcoming, but that he has power over death itself. John should not expect freedom in this world, but he shouldn’t fear death either. For John that is enough to prepare himself for martyrdom.

How many Advent and Christmas seasons have you lived? If a fresh hope in the coming Savior has given way to a gloomy routine of another holiday season that will come and go too quickly, now is the time to ask Our Lord to remind you of all the miracles he has worked in your life in order to re-fortify your hope. Don’t be shy about asking him.

Readings: Isaiah 45:6c–8, 18, 21c, 21c–25; Psalm 85:9ab, 10–14; Luke 7:18b–23.

3rd Week of Advent, Tuesday

Advent is a season for conversion, for getting back on track if we’ve gone “off road.” Our Lord in today’s Gospel reminds us that the true measure of success is not what we say, but what we do. Going “off road” means not doing what we set out to do.  It can be pretty wild, even exciting, but in the end we don’t really go anywhere. A believer who says “yes” to God’s will but doesn’t do it in the end goes off road and, therefore, goes nowhere. His lips may have said “yes,” but in the end his heart said “no.”

Conversion means leaving behind that “no” to God’s will and getting back on the road. The action’s that follow our decisions are the true measure of our “yes” or “no”: they indicate whether our hearts are saying “yes” or “no.” Our Lord is telling the chief priests and scribes today, as well as us, that we’ve all had “no’s” in our life, but what matters is being sorry for them and getting back on track. Advent for some can be a season of remembering regrets, but it shouldn’t be a season of wallowing in them; rather, it means welcoming Our Lord back into our life, just as he was welcomed into the world at Bethlehem.

Let’s live this Advent season changing the “no’s” to God of the past into the “yes” to God of our actions.

Readings: Zephaniah 3:1–2, 9–13; Psalm 34:2–3, 6–7, 17–18, 19, 23; Matthew 21:28–32.