December 2008 Sánchez Commentaries & Sample Homilies B cycle
SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT (B)
December 7, 2008
A Paradigm Shift
Patricia Datchuck Sánchez
Isa 40:1-5, 9-11
2 Pet 3:8-14
Mark 1:1-8
Barring the misfortune of extreme hardship, neglect or abuse, human beings are born into this world with a Ptolemaic view of the universe: Everything and everyone revolves around self. Loving parents dote, relatives and friends of the family are similarly attentive, and only as children mature does their focus on self begin to adjust as each realizes that there are others in this world as precious as they. At times, however, it becomes rather easy to slip back into a self-centered and self-oriented mode of existence.
Independent and ambitious as we are accustomed to being, we still tend to think in terms of my wants, my needs, my opinions, my future. Nevertheless, while the world may encourage a decidedly self-centered focus, this holy season and our faith tradition invite us once again to shift our center from self to God. John the Baptizer lends his voice to the importance of that shift; in today’s Marcan Gospel, he proclaims that Jesus is the focus of his life and all his energies as a human being. He called Jesus “One who is mightier than I” and admitted his unworthiness to “stoop and loosen the thongs of his sandals.” John also admitted the temporary nature of his mission and of his own importance, and turned the eyes of his hopeful contemporaries away from himself toward Jesus, toward God.
Centering on Godin this way is difficult to achieve and even more difficult to maintain, butit enables the believer to cultivate a fresh perspective whereby God is first and last and foremost, and the value of all others and all else takes on new clarity. Focusing on God enables one to appreciate life and its blessings as God does, with reverence. Focusing and centering on God invites a repentance that turns us from self and sin to God, to others and to goodness. Energies formerly spent on self-satisfaction can then be directed toward proactive efforts for the well-being of others. John had learned the necessity of such a paradigm shift in his life. His example invites similar efforts on our part.
Israel also learned the necessity of shifting its center from self to God. Salvation history testifies to the struggle of our forebears in the faith to maintain this shift. Voices other than God’s voice called out to the Israelites. Tempting and intriguing pagan practices invited the people to worship idols. Other nations and their leaders called for their political loyalties. False prophets lured them with lies, and their own weakness and lack of trust in God finally resulted in a radical shift away from God, away from Judah to exile, away from freedom, away from all they loved and cherished. Just when that shift seemed absolute and permanent, God spoke through Deutero-Isaiah (first reading) the words that continue to encourage us today: “Comfort, comfort my people.” God comes like a gentle shepherd inviting all who have strayed or shifted from their God-center to repent and return.
With an urgency that cannot be ignored, the author of 2 Peter (second reading) moves us to act now, for when the Lord and center of our lives appears again in Jesus, the time for shifting will have elapsed. Therefore, says the ancient writer, surrender to grace now and turn to God now. Center on Jesus and put your spiritual gears into overdrive now, so as to make the paradigm shift of repentance now. Then, even when the day of the Lord comes “like a thief in the night,” we will have nothing to fear, for we shall be already be firmly anchored in and fully centered on God.
With God as our ultimate vantage point, our focus and the person through whom all else is perceived, we cannot help but live differently. We cannot help but be kinder, truer and more adamant in our struggle for justice and peace. These differences, which give voice to our faith, will witness to others that redemption is possible, that God is near, that there is every reason not to lose hope!
Isa 40:1-5, 9-11
In 1960, cartoonist Bil Keane of Philadelphiabegan producing the delightful “Family Circus.” Now published in more than 1,500 newspapers worldwide, it is the most syndicated cartoon in the United States. Modeled after his own family, the cartoon features a couple and their four children. A frequent subject of the cartoon is the path one of the children may take from point A to point B. For example, rather than go straight to school and arrive on time, Billy or Jeffy may take a trip that includes a stop at the park, a pause to dip feet in the reflecting pool, time to play ball with a friend, a few minutes to watch televisions through a shop window, etc. As it is mapped out by Keane, the journey to school looks like a maze or labyrinth rather than a direct route.
At times, our journey to God is similarly circuitous, as was the journey of the ancient Israelites. Therefore, the advice that Deutero-Isaiah offered to his contemporaries and that John repeated at the Jordan River remains apropos: Prepare the way of the Lord; make straight the path that will lead you to God.
Deutero-Isaiah was a companion to his suffering contemporaries in Babylonia, and was convinced that the sins of his people had mapped their itinerary into exile. Dalliances with other gods and alliances with other nations had damaged their relationship with God and had led them far afield of their intended journey in God’s company. But just when it seemed that their journey had come to a dead end in Babylonia, the prophet held out to his people the hope of a journey homeward, to God, to Judah and to a new beginning. He called this hope “good news” (v. 9) and was proud to be its herald, or mebasser. This Hebrew term, derived from the verb basar, “to proclaim,” is the equivalent of “evangelist.” As God’s evangelist, Deutero-Isaiah should stand tall and shout aloud the word of God, which will transform the lives of those who will listen. For the exiles, the gospel proclaimed by their prophetic brother declared that God was present to them with power and strength, but also with gentleness. Like lambs who had strayed far from safety, God would gather them up and carry them home.
As Walter Brueggemann has noted, there are two images of God here — that of a macho warrior at the head of a great victory parade and that of a gentle shepherd (Texts For Preaching, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1993). By wedding these two images, the prophet’s vision lets God be all in all, for all. Those who seemingly had no future and no way out of their devastating situation are comforted by a powerful, gentle God. On the way home, the exile becomes a memory, darkness is dispelled by light, their spiritual drought is ended and life begins anew. Every aspect of this wondrous transformation hinges upon the people hearing God’s good news, trusting in it and responding to it.
So it goes in our lives as well. Good news and God’s power are ever present to draw us out of whatever threatens our freedom and causes us to lose our way. Good news and our gentle, powerful God can bring us back to our center, if only we will listen and learn.
2 Pet 3:8-14
Had the early second-century author of 2 Peter known how this description of the Day of the Lord would be misconstrued through the centuries, the writer may have omitted such graphic predictions of a mighty roar and dissolution of fire. Yet despite those who see signs of the end in every natural disaster and political upheaval, the ancient writer’s words are not without significance. Fire is a frequent scriptural symbol for testing. Purification should, indeed, precede any encounter with the divine so that what is transient and unimportant will give way to what is lasting, valuable and worthy.
More important than the symbolic description of the Day of the Lord is the author’s advice concerning the conduct befitting those who prepare to meet God. By making the most of the “delay” in the Lord’s appearance, believers can avail themselves of the patience of God, who wants only what is good for every creature. In order to achieve that good, we must repent. Repentance begins with our re-centering on God and turning away from all that might lure us away from God.
By turning to God and to grace, and in conducting themselves in holiness and devotion (v. 11), believers anticipate the new creation promised by God (v. 13). Christian belief, explains Pheme Perkins, is that the coming of a new creation, rather than fear of divine judgment, forms the basis for holiness as a way of life(First and Second Peter, James and Jude, Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville, Ky.: 1995). Acting and living out of faith rather than fear is the manner by which believers best prepare themselves to see God.
Nevertheless, some believers might find that their motivation for doing good continues to hinge upon their dread of what may await them in the afterlife. Today, the wise counsel of 2 Peter challenges readers to move beyond that level of moral development that acts out of fear so as to grow into persons of integrity who choose to do good simply because it is the right thing to do. Fear of punishment and desire for reward should not figure into the believer’s deliberate resolve to work and wait worthily for the God who comes.
Advent serves as a yearly reminder that God will indeed come. Although it may be difficult to summon any level of excitement at this prospect, the voices of Advent are full of anticipation. Perhaps what we need is a new way of careful listening that takes to heart the Advent message. Rather than allow the small voice in the back of our minds that says, “It will never happen, at least not now, not here” to shape our attitudes, let us allow God’s word to awaken in us the expectation that will look for God around every corner and in every human face.
Mark 1:1-8
Consider for a moment the world into which John the Baptizer spoke these words that have become Gospel for every believer in Jesus. Ruled by Rome, the nations under the imperial command were connected by a network of roads that facilitated access to the population and fostered commerce. These roads were used by Roman soldiers and generals whose visits were intended to establish their authority and control. Messengers were frequently sent ahead of Roman dignitaries to alert the townspeople to prepare a welcome. Into this atmosphere of Roman imperialism, John’s voice speaks of making preparations for one who is not only greater than he but is greater even than the emperor. He is the Lord (v. 3) whose way is prepared not with stones that pave a new road, but with a heart whose faith has created a welcome for him. Hearts that have turned from all else to God — this is the welcome that will receive the One who comes to baptize with the Holy Spirit.
Like his predecessors Deutero-Isaiah (45:5) and Malachi (3:1), John made his announcement to people who were struggling to maintain their hope that God would hear their prayer and send a savior. His appeal is obvious. His contemporaries had a great spiritual hunger. Despite the harshness of his call to repentance and the austerity of his appearance, they flocked to him, acknowledged their sins and were baptized.
John’s camel-hair clothing and leather belt identified him as a prophet. John’s diet underscored the two-edged nature of his message as well as the good news that Jesus would bring. Those who accepted the Gospel of salvation in faith would know blessings (signified by the honey); those who did not were planting the seeds of their own destruction (symbolized by the locusts).
Many of his contemporaries thought that John might be the messiah; this belief persisted to the extent that by the time the Gospel tradition was committed to writing (Mark, late 60s; Matthew and Luke, 80s; John, 90s), each evangelist, in turn, clarified John’s temporary and subordinate role in God’s saving plan.
Here in the Marcan Gospel, John is presented as deflecting attention away from himself toward Jesus, whose ministry was about to begin. “He is coming after me but he is greater than I,” witnesses John. His witness invites a similar declaration from each of us. Ministry for the sake of the Gospel should redirect the attention and adulation of others from ourselves to God. Mediators and ministers of the message we may be, but we are not the message. Therefore, it devolves upon those whose privilege it is to preach and teach the good news to be sure not to get in the way of its truth. Nor should God’s heralds offer negative witness by sending mixed messages or contradictory ones where our words are not borne out in actions.
In the sixth century, Gregory the Great recommended that believers of every generation continue to emulate John until Jesus comes. “Whoever preaches right faith and good works prepares … a road for the Lord to come into the hearer’s heart so that this gracious power might penetrate and the light of truth illuminate them. Thus may the preacher make straight paths for God” (quoted by Bede, Corpus Christianorum, CXX, 439).
Sample Homily for Dec. 7, 2008, Second Sunday of Advent
“The Normal Way of Living”
Fr. James Smith
John the Baptist is famous not in his own right, but for being the forerunner of the Messiah.
The closest I came to feeling like Forerunner John was in the Army. I was ordered to paint a fence blue, so I spent the day at it. Next day, when I started where I had left off, I looked back to see another soldier painting yellow over my blue. I wondered why. Did the general have second thoughts? Was my blue just a primer? Was the sergeant colorblind? It finally didn’t matter, because I was a lowly private who was not privy to the grand scheme of the military mystery. I simply had to trust that my little painting job had some useful purpose.
John must have felt something like that. He painted the air blue with his haranguing of scribes and cursing of Pharisees. But then came Jesus with mellow yellow words of peace and love. John was confused. Had he misunderstood his mission? Had God thought of a better plan? It finally didn’t matter, since John was a lowly forerunner who had no business second-guessing divine mysteries. He simply had to trust that his 15 minutes of minor celebrity played a small part in God’s providence for the world.
But even then, John seemed ambivalent about his message. He cursed sinners, threatened them with fire and ax, warned them of impending destruction. But then when they asked him how to avoid this catastrophe, he just told them to do a good day’s work and not cheat — things they ought to be doing even without the kingdom.
Most of us are as confused as John’s hearers must have been. We have been led to believe that the religion of the kingdom is extreme, otherworldly, unearthly, extraordinary — that our life on earth is an amateur forerunner of the professional life hereafter. We are surprised, and maybe a little disbelieving, when we are told that we have only one life, which stretches from here to eternity; that God cannot be reached in heaven but can be touched in the smallest earthly act; that the greatest commandment of loving God can really be obeyed, but only by loving our neighbor as our self.
Christianity is not a radical sect, it is not a clique for a chosen few, it is not anti-secular, it is not opposed to earthly pleasure, its laws are not un-keepable. Christianity is the normal way of living. Christ is the pattern, the paradigm, the template, the actual life of all humanity. To be Christian is to be human.
We are simply asked to fulfill our normal responsibilities in everyday life, every day of our life. And there’s the rub. It would be easier to gird our loins, gather our strength, screw our will into one magnificent act of heroism. That might be very difficult, but it would be over in an instant. As we mature and grow in grace, we discover that the hard part is the patient endurance of everyday life under the gaze of God.
That is what John discovered in the dungeon. He saw Jesus rising like a beautiful comet, a popular hero, a legend in his own time. Where had John gone wrong? Why was he discarded so quickly? What had his forerunning amounted to? With his area of activity reduced to a prison cell, he had only to trust in God.