Monday, December 12, 2022

Two Brief Advent Sermons

The following two short sermons were delivered in 2011 by a Roman Catholic priest who probably wishes to remain anonymous. I believe that they contain much wisdom and are worth holding on to.

As we go through the season of Advent different personalities make their appearance. The first ones are the prophets who tell us to prepare the way of the Lord.

The prophet Isaiah tells of a ‘voice crying in the wilderness’ to prepare our hearts for the coming of the Messiah. The prophet Micah tells us the Messiah is to be born in Bethlehem. Zephaniah speaks of the Day of the Lord, and tells us, ‘do not be discouraged.’

For the first time today Mary, the Blessed Mother, makes her appearance. For eleven months of the year we are told to follow Christ. For one month out of the year we are told to follow Mary. For the one month of Advent we are told to follow Mary. Mary will lead us to Bethlehem. Mary, different from the prophets who told us to prepare, Mary tells us how to prepare. Mary pondered these things. Mary treasured these things, and pondered them in her heart.

We are not told to pray harder. We are not told to spend more time in church. WE are told to look into our hearts, to look into our hearts and be full of hope and promise, to prepare for love beyond all telling.

Mary was expecting. Mary was expecting a child. But a lot happened to her and Joseph that was not expected.

Full of hope and promise, full of grace. We say that, ‘Mary, full of grace.” We can be thankful Mary was full of grace and not full of reason. The innkeeper was full of reason. When we are full of reason there is no room in the inn.

The innkeeper had some good reasons why there was not room in the inn. This is not the right time. You should wait until things improve in the economy before you try to have a child. You should wait until the world becomes a better place. Wait until the time is right. Wait until we are all ready. Things are just too unpredictable.

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Third Advent 2011

John the Baptist in the Gospel today has lot of explaining to say who he is not. Priests and Levites were sent to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ I am not the Christ. Who are you then. Are you Elijah? ‘I am not.’ Are you the Prophet? ‘No’ Are you Elvis?

John the Baptist was a prophet in the tradition of the Old Testament prophets. All the prophets in the Old Testament had something in common. All the prophets had to have a sense of the woundedness of Israel. They all had to have a sense of the brokenness of Israel. All the prophets had to feel this in an intense way.

There were a lot more prophets in the Old Testament than are recorded in the Scriptures. Their words never got into the the Scriptures, or if they are in the Scriptures their words are included in other books, anonymously.

The prophets of the Old Testament who lived in times of crisis, their writings have survived. The reason their writings have survived is that our faith has its origin in times of crisis. The hopes and dreams, the promises, the holy darkness has to come from the darkness of evil, not somewhere else. So there has to be a transformation of the evil darkness, to become the holy darkness.

So it is that our faith has its origin in Advent. The faith of Israel had its origin in times of crisis. Advent is the time of this transformation of darkness. Advent is a time of the holy darkness. The struggle is not so much between darkness and light. The struggle is between darkness and darkness, one kind of darkness and another kind of darkness. And it is that one kind of darkness has to be transformed into another kind of darkness. And that is to say we cannot get to the holy darkness without being in the human condition. We cannot try to be holy without being in the human condition. This darkness is the silent sister of Advent.

John the Baptist had a curious message. People were attracted to John the Baptist. His message was direct and blunt. He was not into Diet Coke, or God Lite. John himself was this curious mixture of light and darkness. John had a message of hope. This attracted those to John, his message of hope.

John was living in days unfulfilled. John was not going to live to see the desert bloom. At first he thought the Messiah would come to separate the sheep from the goats, but then that was not the vision he was to have. From the time of his birth John had this burden, this burden of the woundedness of Israel. There was a mystery beyond understanding. And to say to those who came out to see him, ‘You should just cheer up. You need to cheer up.’ That is not what they needed to hear; that is not what John said.

‘There is one who comes after me, whose sandal strap I am not worthy to untie.”

In our Christian faith there is something we prepare for when we prepare for Christmas that is generally not part of the preparation for Christmas in the secular world. It is the coming of Christ at death. Generally this is not part of the Christmas decorations, the preparations we would see in the stores, the coming of Christ at death.

No one is quite sure why, but at Christmas time we think of those who have died. Maybe it is that Christmas is a family time, and these who have died are still part of our family and loved ones. Maybe it is that Christmas is a time of warmth and beauty, and there is a warmth and beauty in our relationships, and in life after death, our relationships will be more personal. There is something in our instincts that lead us to think of the dead at Christmas. It is another way we experience the coming of Christ.

So as we say in the new translation of the Mass, ‘It is right and just’ that we do this, to think of the dead at Christmas. It is another way we prepare for the coming of Christ.

On this Gaudete Sunday we hear the words of St. Paul to the Philippians, “Rejoice in the Lard always; again I say rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near.’ (Phil 4:4).

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