A few days ago I spent the afternoon untangling lights at my
mother’s house that were put away last year with far too
much haste and with no foresight to this year's use. After having
completed the less than festive task of decorating the outside
of her house I went next door to my brother’s house where
I met my four-year-old nephew who was having his lunch and watching
TV. He was literally glued to Scooby Doo, and my attempts to engage
him in conversation could not compete with the attraction of colorful
animated characters engaged in hauntingly adventurous mysteries
in need of solving.
It is remarkable to think how the most ordinary experiences
of our human existence give us insight into our profound relationship
with God. After struggling to gain my nephew’s attention
I literally stood in front of the TV, at which time he smiled
at me and acknowledged my presence. Are we not like that child
glued to the tasks of daily living and, more often than not, missing
the subtle attempts that God makes to engage us? We become preoccupied
with activity, with consumption, with anxiety, even with our struggles
or pains, and fail to hear the voice of the Lord calling us to
a moment of peace, a period of rest, an opportunity for grace.
And yet, in the midst of our human limitations and necessary
distractions we are part of a Church which draws our attention
away from the mundane and toward the Divine. Through the liturgical
calendar and the seasons of grace which shape our spiritual lives
we are offered alternative points of focus to which to give our
attention; sacred days marked out to draw our attention away from
the things which drain our life energy and towards the life-giving
energy of that which gives our existence lasting meaning, the
Divine.
Matthew’s Gospel dramatically thunders out a call for
better attention to the plan of God through the rather radical
character of John the Baptist. John emphatically warns of the
dangers of inattention to the Divine and over preoccupation with
the diversions of the worldly. Though his call is affronting and
aggressive it is a call to repentance. Repentance is itself a
call to humility, acquiescence to the infinity of Divine Grace
over our finite human frailty and stubborn egos. This invitation
to repentance is an call to the opportunity for transformation
and enlightenment. John’s address to the religious leaders
of his times is a reminder to us that as religious and priests
we must continually attempt to place ourselves in unassuming positions
of humility before God and others, when our social position attractively
tempts us with places of honor and moments of thin superiority.
During this Advent time the excitement of the secular season
is re-translated for us religiously by our carefully crafted scripture
readings. The words of the Prophet Isaiah in today’s first
reading spark an anticipation of hope for a more perfect world
as they create for us images of a Savior with “a spirit
of wisdom and understanding”, a Messiah who will “judge
the poor with justice”, and a God-with-us who will end division,
dispel fear, and make life safe for all, not just the powerful.
Isaiah details a God-made world, one which extends for us possibility
at a time when many of us feel overwhelmed by the grave imbalances
of power which dominate the man-made world in which we live.
St. Paul reinforces and extends Isaiah’s Godly vision,
calling for harmony in community. Inherent in this reading is
the mandate that as followers of Christ we are called to “welcome
one another”, once again an invitation to humility over
self-righteousness. It is only God who will bring about the perfection
of the world envisioned by Isaiah, but as his disciples we are
obliged to attempt to live out its possibility in our world. Paul
brings together the vision of Isaiah and the repentance of John
the Baptist to instruct us in good Christian living. We fall short
in answering the call of God for our attention when we founder
in our unrelenting hope for peace and an end to division, but
we also fail when we refuse one another. Welcoming one another
does not mean agreeing. Welcoming may not even mean liking. Welcoming
is the humility to recognize one’s own imperfection and
thus compassionately accepting the shortcomings of another, it
is honoring the Divine in ourselves and the Divine in others.
We must remind ourselves time and time again that this is God’s
work we are about, and God’s work is always accompanied
by His grace. It is grace draws us and provides us the wisdom
to pull ourselves away from the distractions of the world and
towards God. It is grace that gifts us with self-knowledge and
its concomitant companion humility. It is grace which allows us
to recognize our own need for repentance, and it is grace which
implants in us the hope for a world of justice and life without
division.
As we light the second candle of the Advent Wreath let us pray
for the grace of the season to guide attract us to its flame,
guiding us to pay closer attention to the call of Lord and thus
live with a deeper sense of meaning, a higher level of compassion,
and a world-altering vision of hope. What more could one ask for
this Christmas?