Second Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 40:1–5, 9–11

Comfort, give comfort to my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her
that her service is at an end,
her guilt is expiated;
indeed, she has received from the hand of the Lord
double for all her sins.
A voice cries out:
In the desert prepare the way of the Lord!
Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!
Every valley shall be filled in,
every mountain and hill shall be made low;
the rugged land shall be made a plain,
the rough country, a broad valley.
Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all people shall see it together;
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.
Go up onto a high mountain,
Zion, herald of glad tidings;
cry out at the top of your voice,
Jerusalem, herald of good news!
Fear not to cry out
and say to the cities of Judah:
Here is your God!
Here comes with power
the Lord God,
who rules by his strong arm;
here is his reward with him,
his recompense before him.
Like a shepherd he feeds his flock;
in his arms he gathers the lambs,
carrying them in his bosom,
and leading the ewes with care.

Psalm 85:8

Lord, let us see your kindness, and grant us your salvation.

2 Peter 3:8–14

Do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thou sand years and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay his promise, as some regard “delay,” but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a mighty roar and the elements will be dissolved by fire, and the earth and everything done on it will be found out. Since everything is to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be, conducting yourselves in holiness and devotion, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be dissolved in flames and the elements melted by fire. But according to his promise we await new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you await these things, be eager to be found without spot or blemish before him, at peace.

Mark 1:1–8

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God.

As it is written in Isaiah the prophet:

“Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you;
he will prepare your way.
A voice of one crying out in the desert:
“Prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight his paths.”

John the Baptist appeared in the desert proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. People of the whole Judean countryside and all the inhabit ants of Jerusalem were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins. John was clothed in camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist. He fed on locusts and wild honey. And this is what he proclaimed: “One mightier than I is coming after me. I am not worthy to stoop and loosen the thongs of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

The beginning of this passage from Isaiah combines fierce language of the Divine Warrior with pastoral images of the Divine Shepherd. Together the two metaphors evoke confidence in God’s power and desire to save, which is motivated by care for God’s “flock.” The highway in the wilderness is the path of the Divine Warrior, who marches into Babylon to retrieve Israel. The language of “reward” and “recompense” refers to plunder that a warrior could expect to gain from pillaging conquered lands. Here the “war booty” is God’s own people. God gently scoops them up and brings them home. The overall image is of a fiercely loyal Warrior on a rescue mission, marching into enemy territory to retrieve (redeem) the Chosen People.

The community to which Peter in his Second Letter writes has struggled to be faithful in the face of persecution, and has doubts about the delay in the Lord’s return or the coming of the day of the Lord. The apparent delay also challenges fervor and perseverance in discipleship. Peter first assures them that the “delay” is only from their limited human perspective; in fact, it is for their benefit that the Lord does not return right away, as it gives time for repentance. But be assured, he says, that the day of the Lord will come and when it comes, the Lord will want to find this people faithful, holy, devoted, “without spot or blemish.”

Last week’s Gospel reading featured Jesus warning his listeners not to put off repentance. At the beginning of today’s Gospel, we have John the Baptist also warning his listeners to be prepared for the (first) coming of the Son of God. The baptism John preaches is one of both repentance and forgiveness. His message is not simply “repent,” but also “allow yourselves to be forgiven.” Both repentance and forgiveness prepare the crowds for the One who is coming, the One who will complete the work by making it possible for the people to receive the Holy Spirit, the divine agent of sanctification, ensuring that repentance and forgiveness bear lasting fruit.

It was a football weekend at the University of Notre Dame. Sacred Heart basilica was packed. People from all over streamed forward in a straight line, holding open their hands—tender hands with well-formed nails, broad hands accustomed to strength. A few opened their mouths. All had straight white teeth. And I kept saying it: “Body of Christ.” And they replied: “Amen.” “Body of Christ.” “Amen.” “Body of Christ.” “Amen.” The multitudes streamed toward the Lord.

Then I saw him in line. He didn’t fit among the well-dressed crowd. Scraggly long hair. Shorts (in November?). Hiking boots. Gray wool socks with red stripes. He might have walked in straight from the Appalachian Trail. What was he doing here? He stopped in front of me and opened his hands to receive the One who was mightier than he. Eager for the One he so obviously loved, his eyes gleamed with joy.

I wondered, if John the Baptist were here among us, is this what he would look like? Would he choose to deliberately unsettle the status quo? Would he intend to show us how transitory this life is? Would he want us to be cognizant that all earthly things will pass away? That this glorious building, with these good-looking people celebrating this famed football team—would John the Baptist rail at us not to forget that all is nothing compared to the grandeur of the One who comes to us at Christmas? In spite of our self-assurance that we control the present, would he remind us that we are simple Advent people—never secure in the now, always on a tenuous trek to something more? Maybe he would. Maybe he should.

I focused back on my task for those who flowed forward, offering food for the journey: “Body of Christ.” “Amen.” “Body of Christ . . .”

• Unexpected events unsettle our surety. What has sharpened our focus, made us realize that this earthly life is not sufficient, not all there is? Where has God been in those moments?
• In this tenuous Advent of our lives, paths are not always straight, mountains can seem high, valleys can feel abysmally low. How can we be like John the Baptist for each other, helping to prepare the way for the Lord?

Lord, with you, one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years are like one day. Yet we can become so focused on what we are doing right here and now that we lose sight of your bigger picture. Sharpen our eyes to see your broader vision. You alone are enough. Ready us to receive your forgiveness as we prepare for your coming, eager to be found without spot or blemish. Come, Emmanuel, come and be born in our hearts!