4th Sunday of Advent - Year A

Isaiah 7:10-14; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-24

Most of us can expect to live sixty, seventy, eighty years on this earth. We will have many joys, achievements, trials and sufferings. The journey of life will take us through various terrains, meeting a great number of different people, experiences and challenges until finally we come to the end of the journey, our death.

Now if God were to invite you to ask him for one gift which you could take along the way with you, on the way through all the problems and unexpected difficulties you will most certainly encounter in life, what would it be? What would you ask for?

Well, there is one thing God promised to each man and woman he called into his service. This promise was to be their greatest source of strength and encouragement and confidence. It was a simple promise but an unimaginably great one: I will be with you.

God called Moses to free the Hebrews from Egypt and when Moses complained that he was not the right man for the job, that he was not gifted enough, God said: I will be with you.

They carried a tent with them in the desert, the Tent of the Presence. It contained the Ark of the Covenant and it signified that everywhere the People journeyed, God was with them.

Joshua, who succeeded Moses and who was asked by God to actually lead the People into the Promised Land was promised: I will be with you as I was with Moses. I will not leave you or desert you. For go where you will Yahweh your God is with you.

When the Hebrews entered the Promised Land and had to fight various savage tribes for possession of the land God said to them: I will be with you.

To Samuel, David, Jeremiah, Jonah, Daniel and so many others God said: Do not be afraid, I will be with you.

This was God's greatest promise, the greatest gift he could bestow - his presence.

To Mary the Angel said: The Lord is with you, and then went on to announce to her that she would conceive and bring forth a son. To Joseph the angel revealed: … they will call him Emmanuel, a name which means `God-is-with-us'.

Surely this is the secret of the celebration of Christmas - that in the coming of the infant Jesus in Bethlehem 2000 years ago - God comes as man to be with us.

In addition to this we are aware that the presence of God to his chosen ones, like the patriarchs, judges, kings and prophets, was always ordered to their specific mission. Moses was to set the people free from Egypt, Joshua was to lead them into the Promised Land, King David was to free the people from the Philistines, and so on. God gave each of them a definite mission and then promised: I will be with you.

Now look at the extremely compact movement of the Gospel narrative which begins so matter-of-factly: This is how Jesus Christ came to be born ...! We are told many things, one fact after the other, and without attentiveness we might fail to notice that the specific and unique mission of Jesus is revealed to Joseph: you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.

Astonishing! Amazing! Astounding! He is to save his people from their sins! What kind of child can this be? What kind of man will he grow into? What kind of man can save people from their sins - and how will he do it?

… they will call him Emmanuel, a name which means `God-is-with-us'.

When he returned to the Father he spoke to his disciples, and said: I am with you always ... until the end of time.

Before I finish, let’s get personal. Let me ask you, and please answer honestly, do you believe you have a special 'mission' from God? ... wife, husband, mother, father, son, daughter, single person, priest, religious? Do you believe Jesus is with you? Do you really believe, right now, with all your heart that he is with you?

If your answer is yes, and only if your answer is yes, in these last hours before the celebration of Christmas raise your eyes to the heavens, feel the yearning in your heart for the Saviour who is coming, and yet, who is already with you. Allow this knowledge of his love-filled presence to take from you all fear and apprehension, all burdens and anxiety about the yourself and your future, and the future of your family and friends. Hand it all over to the one who is with you and who never leaves you, even at the moment of death.

And having handed all over to him, open your hearts to the love, joy, peace and light that he gives you in return. Let it flood (baptise) you anew and prepare you to welcome him as the Christ-Child.

Our God is with us and we need not be afraid.

3rd Sunday of Advent - Year A

Isaiah 35:1-6. 10; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

John the Baptist still occupies centre stage in the gospel today but now, instead of a striking figure calling to repentance in the wilderness he sits in a dark, stone prison. We are, of course, not surprised. We knew it would happen. No one can speak unpalatable truths to the power brokers of the land without penalty. John is suffering the fate of the true prophet.

Our reflection on this lonely figure, silenced for his obedience to God's word, directs our conscience to the question of our own relationship to those who tell us truths we don't want to hear, as well as our readiness to speak unpopular truths to the world around us. It is a complex question of discernment which can only bear fruit in the light of grace-filled prayer. Our relationship to truth is the very same reality as our relationship to God because - God is truth.

Advent is a time for precisely such reflection. Do I think truthfully. Do I speak truthfully? Do I judge truthfully? Do I live truthfully? For most of us, over these simple yet profound questions there lies the thick blanket of our self-deception. Do not the guilty always proclaim their innocence? Do not the liars always profess honesty? Do not the thieves always assert their integrity?

Only God's breath, the Holy Spirit, can disperse the dark clouds surrounding our corrupted hearts; only the double-edged sword of his Word can cut through our stubborn determination to see things as we are rather than as things are.

Imprisoned in his cell John the Baptist is, nevertheless, truly free - liberated by truth - but he is still human and, it seems, in need of some reassurance. In the darkness of his cell, cut off from the outside world, from Jesus and from his ministry, John needs . The sharp memory of events by the river Jordan, which had allowed him so confidently to point him out as 'the One' .. 'the Lamb of God', that sharp memory began to fade.

Perhaps it was the darkness and coldness of his prison which began to seep into him so that he began to wonder. Perhaps he heard false rumours, or maybe he just grew confused and less confident in his solitude. We could say that Jesus' face and his identity became blurred in the mind of John.

C S Lewis, in his book, A Grief Observed, mentions how when his wife died he had only one photo of her, a really poor one. But he says that he was glad of this because it meant he was in no danger of giving in to the temptation to reduce the memory of his wife to one photo of her. He constantly had to exercise his memory to reach beyond this photo to all the other memories he had of her face, all her different smiles and looks and actions - to the truth of the person she was.

This is what John the Baptist was doing. He was reaching out for the real Jesus - the truth. So he sent his disciples to ask the Lord if he was the One, the One promised by the Scriptures. And Jesus told those disciples to tell John what they saw Jesus doing. Jesus knew that John had an intimate knowledge of the Sacred Scripture and so he described himself in scriptural terms: Go back and tell John what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life and the Good News is proclaimed to the poor; and happy is the man who does not lose faith in me.

John would have rejoiced to hear those words for now he knew that Jesus and the One promised in the Scriptures were the same person. Jesus made himself known to John in the Scriptures, just as he had revealed himself to the Emmaus disciples in the breaking of the bread.

This is truly a matter for rejoicing. What a lesson for us! With utmost confidence we, too, can now turn to the sacred, inspired texts of the Bible and discover there the face of the Master.

C.S. Lewis has provided us with a character in another of his books, The Chronicles of Narnia, which helps us to understand further the joy of John the Baptist. This character was called Tashlan. He was a picture of the anti-Christ who is to come before the end of world history.

Tashlan, of course, was pure evil. A cloud of noxious insects followed in his wake and he had the ugly face of an evil bird of prey. Wherever he walked the grass would shrivel under his feet, the flowers would wilt and the trees would die. Unhappiness and disaster followed in his footsteps. Can you imagine how you would feel seeing him approach, with everything decaying around him?

Now compare the coming of the promised One, the Messiah, the Lord Jesus. If you want to contemplate his inner truth - just contemplate in the First Reading what happens around him as he approaches: Strengthen all weary hands, steady all trembling knees and say to all faint hearts, `Courage! Do not be afraid. Look your God is coming.' Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer and the tongues of the dumb sing for joy for those the Lord has ransomed shall return. They will come to Zion shouting for joy, everlasting joy on their faces; joy and gladness will go with them and sorrow and lament be ended.

No wonder this is Gaudete Sunday, the Sunday of Advent marked with the joy of expectation. Our God is coming. Soon we will be set free.

Let the wilderness and the dry-lands exult, let the wasteland rejoice and bloom, let it bring forth flowers like the jonquil, let it rejoice and sing for joy ... they shall see the glory of the Lord, the splendour of our God.

2nd Sunday of Advent - Year A

Isaiah 11:1-10; Romans 15:1-9; Matthew 3:1-12

The Gospel wastes no time. Before we know it a prophet stands before us - John the Baptist.

He stands in the desert of Judaea, wearing a garment made of camel-hair with a leather belt round his waist, and his food is locusts and wild honey.

Have you ever wondered why Matthew would go to the trouble of describing the clothing and the diet of John the Baptist? It's because they are both signs of repentance, and the penance that goes with it. John lived the message he preached.

In 1974 Pope Paul VI gave an address in which he said: Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses.

Apparently this was true also of the people of 2000 years ago because, as the Gospel tells us: Jerusalem and all Judaea and the whole Jordan district made their way to him.

They came from everywhere, attracted by the man John and the message he proclaimed. In fact, his whole lifestyle was already a message clearly spoken to all who came to know him.

John, like all prophets, is a divisive man. He stands between God and humanity and speaks the truth about both, not an easy or enviable commission.

John has spent years in the silence of the wilderness. From his earliest days in the womb of his mother Elizabeth, ever since the visit of the Blessed Virgin, the Mother of the Messiah, he has been filled with the Holy Spirit. He has understood the Scriptures and the ways of God. From the lofty pinnacle of his wisdom he has surveyed the landscape of poor humanity and understood deeply their, and our, most profound need. And what was it? Food? Security? Political freedom? Health?

He wastes no time telling us - Repent, for the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and do it now!

The word repent inserts itself like door between two opposed realities - our sins, and the kingdom of heaven. It keeps them both apart and yet stands between them not as an unpassable obstacle but as the promise of reconciliation.

As he cries 'Repent!' he points with one hand to our sins and with the other to the approaching Kingdom. No niceties, no softening of the blow, no gentle preamble, no sensitivity to 'where I'm at', just - Repent!

John had no time for excuses or precious sensibilities. He had not come to suggest or invite, he had come to warn. 'Get off the tracks - the train is coming! Spare me the details of your life's story, we all have them, just get off the track!'

• But my husband is so difficult, he makes me so angry - Of course he does, just you make sure you repent!
• But I don't like Confession, it's so embarrassing - Yeah, not as embarrassing as hell, repent!
• But if you only knew the sufferings in my life - Yes, we all have them, repent!
• But I've tried so often and failed every time - Try again, repent!
• You just don't understand - I'm not here to understand, I'm here to tell you the kingdom is coming, I don't want you to miss out so, repent!

We are not accustomed to such uncompromising directness. We live in a world in which feeling has taken precedence over thought and if something makes us feel bad it can't be good or true. By canonising our feelings in this way we have subtly made them into gods, and when someone comes along with a truth we don't want to hear we complain: I feel excluded, I feel bullied, I feel uncomfortable.

No wonder John made so many enemies and no wonder he was soon silenced. Look at the way he spoke to the Pharisees and Sadducees, the religious leaders among the people: Brood of vipers, who warned you to fly from the retribution that is coming? But if you are repentant, produce the appropriate fruit ...

Protestations of sorrow and repentance did not impress John. He knew all too well the rocky path that lies between repentance and its fruits, as he knew also our ability to kid ourselves. Unmasking our hypocrisy was John's calling - his service to us.

Let me conclude by pointing out another opposition in this Gospel, the one between heaven and hell. John, again, stands in the breach. His call to repentance is a warning to 'make straight' the path into the first, and to avoid the axe wielded by the one who is coming and the fire awaiting in the second.

Of course we are free to ignore John's warning or to 'explain' it away. The Advent choices, however, remain clear - repentance and the Kingdom or the axe and the fire.