Second Sunday of Advent
Second Sunday of Advent
December 7, 2003
"Jerusalem, take off your robe of mourning and misery… For God has commanded that every lofty mountain be made low, and that the age-old depths and gorges be filled to level ground...". (Baruch 5:1-9)
The reading from the prophecy of Baruch, originally written to console those left behind after Israel's leaders were deported from their homeland, is full of hope and expectation. The people at first in mourning, now dressed in the clothing of celebration and royalty, are ready to greet the returning exiles. They prepare for their triumphal procession by leveling the road so nothing will impede the progress of their return. Yahweh is returning from exile with them.
In the not-too-distant past we thought of Advent as a penitential season. Now we see it as a time of expectation that something great is about to happen, of God about to come into our lives in a new and wonderful way. This is cause for quiet joy and eager expectation, along with some pain and anxiety Our attitude might be compared to a couple awaiting the birth of a child; someone preparing for death in the hope of restored life, or in the throes of personal loss, darkness and chaos. We trust beyond even reasonable hope that all suffering is temporary, that the cloak of fear and mourning will be replaced with clothing of celebration. In these experiences we both know, and do not know, the outcome. Trust assures, experience doubts
The Holy Spirit initiates every good thought, experience and action. Every day we are given an opportunity to create a welcoming, inviting path anticipating that God will enter and fill up our lives. This work of completing what has already begun in us is a process which requires a lifetime of patient expectation. Even those of us who have experienced some dramatic conversion know that it is only the beginning, an invitation, to make the path straight for the Spirit to enter in. I have a dear, respected friend of 40 years who has had more than her share of adversity in her life. Some years ago she had a heart transplant which her body now may be slowly rejecting. She has already survived far beyond medical expectations. My friend has learned from her painful life experiences that the valleys of criticism and judgment of herself and others must be filled in with peace and unity of body and spirit. Faced with the prospect of another transplant, she says "there can only be one heart". Her heart's desire is to find again "the innocence within my one heart".
We have opportunities daily to create a world of "mercy and justice". Every time we make a decision to advance the cause of mutual acceptance, for justice, and against violence and aggression within and around us we continue the process of making the way straight for God's coming.
