The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Homily for the Third Sunday of Advent (Year C)

HomilyReadings: Zep 3:14-18; Phil 4:4-7; Lk 3:10-18
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Most Christians, when they think of John the Baptist, probably picture some sort of odd hermit-like person – bearded, wild-eyed, wearing animal skins – roaming the desert and yelling at people to repent while they still have time. Yes, a lot of folks see John as an angry zealot, a one-issue fanatic – not the sort of guy you’d invite home for a nice quite evening of dinner and conversation. To be blunt: kind of a scary guy.

Now there’s a small element of truth in this description of John, but there’s much more that’s wrong with it. John was perhaps the fiercest and the most loving of men. He was fierce because he recognized the Holiness of God. This imbued in him a strong sense of sin and the need for repentance. In that sense, he’s the saint of purification. But at the same time, he’s a saint of great gentleness, one of almost indescribable humility.

And do you know something else? This saint of the desert was a one-issue man – and that issue was joy! John is the saint of the desert only because he’s also the saint of spiritual joy. Indeed, John is probably the most jubilant saint of all Scripture. And his one joy was to hear the voice of the Lord.


He escaped into the desert so that nothing could turn him from that joy, so that he could give himself entirely to it, so that he could peacefully meditate on that first meeting he had with Jesus, a meeting that took place before both were born.

Remember Luke’s description of the pregnant Mary visiting her cousin, Elizabeth? The much older Elizabeth was also expecting a child – a child named John. And here’s something you might not know. The Church has always taught that at that moment Jesus, alive in Mary, sanctified John the Baptist. John was, in a very real sense, baptized in his mother’s womb by our Lord Himself. And so John, filled with the Holy Spirit even before his birth, leaped in that womb at the sound of Mary’s greeting, at the approach of His Lord.

The rest of John’s life was devoted to readying Himself for their next meeting, Our Lord’s baptism, by keeping apart from all other creatures to prepare himself for that unique joy.

Brothers and sisters, this is the same joy that we are called to experience and express today as we prepare for our own meeting with Jesus. Today, smack in the middle of Advent, in this season of prayerful repentance and preparation, we are called to be joyful – and we are given John as our example.

For today is Gaudete Sunday, the joyful Sunday of Advent. And, today, as a sign of that joy, we light the rose-colored candle on our Advent wreaths. Today’s readings instruct us not only to experience the joy of expectation in Christ’s coming but also to express our joy openly

In the readings you just heard, we were repeatedly called on to rejoice, sing, shout, and cry out. We are told to shout for joy, to sing joyfully, to cry out with gladness, to exult with all our hearts, to not be discouraged, to have no anxiety and to fear nothing. Wonderful words to hear, and even better words to pray over.

This is exactly what Paul is trying to get across to the Philippians in today’s 2nd reading. Remember Paul’s remarkable opening words? “Brothers and sisters: Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!”

Right off the bat it’s clear that Paul is filled with irrepressible joy and peace. Now why is this remarkable?

Well, quite simply because Paul isn’t writing these words to the Philippians from some hotel room in Ephesus, or from a condo in Corinth. And he’s certainly not writing from a retirement community in the Greek isles. No, Paul is writing from a Roman prison, where he is being held under guard, and where his life is in imminent danger.

Listen again to the rest of this brief reading. Not only is Paul filled with joy, but he’s also filled with gratitude. “Your kindness should be known to all. The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Why this joy? Why this peace of soul? Why the overwhelming gratitude? How could Paul feel this way? Why was he seemingly unaffected by the situation and conditions in which he found himself? Because Paul, just like John the Baptist, knew that the Lord was near. And like John, Paul knew that his mind and heart were guarded and protected by God’s peace.

John and Paul, two men who died martyrs deaths in prison, had both discovered that the joy of God’s presence overcame all fears, removed all anxiety, turned every kind of suffering into a reason to rejoice and give thanks.

Now, compare you and me to these two saints. They get thrown into the worst of prisons, the kind of places that make modern prisons look like plush hotels – and what do they do? They rejoice and give thanks. Someone cuts in front of us in the Wal-Mart parking lot and takes the parking place we were waiting for, and we bombard them with words and gestures that I can neither repeat nor describe. Not a lot of joy and thanksgiving there, is there?

John and Paul await death at the hands of evil men – a death that neither man deserved – and, again, they rejoice and give thanks. But if we get a call from a telemarketer during dinner, we immediately and loudly question the legitimacy of the caller’s birth. I don’t think that’s the kindness Paul urged us to display.

No, most of us aren't quite ready to greet the Lord, are we? At least we’re not as ready as John and Paul were. Perhaps the best thing we can do is to take these remaining days of Advent, these days of preparation, these days of repentance, and, yes, these days of joy…and follow the advice given to us today by John and Paul.

“Your kindness should be known to all,” Paul tells the Philippians and us.
The best place to first express our kindness is in our own homes, to those who love us most, those to whom we can sometimes be most unkind indeed.

But don’t stop there. Do what John told his disciples to do as they prepared to meet their Lord: give to the poor…and give from your need, not just from your surplus. Be honest, loving, caring people, John tells them and us.

This was the message that John was sent to give to the world. He was educating the souls of men and women, preparing them to receive what Christ would tell them. It was his work to awaken those who were totally unconcerned with the things of God, to pull them out of their complacency and arouse in them enough good will to understand Jesus when He came.

It’s no different today. To shake the world out of its indifference we need prophets like John and Paul. We need men and women who can be true witnesses to God’s love for the world. And today, most importantly, we need people of joy – not just on one Sunday of Advent, but every day.

We need you, because God has sent each of you to do just that.

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