“Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?”

John’s arrest by King Herod was mentioned in 4:12, yet the full story of his imprisonment will wait until 14:3–12. No doubt the Baptist had anxiously followed the career of the one whom he had recognized as the ‘mightier one’ for whose coming he had prepared (3:11–12). And yet there is the question that John the Baptist sends with his disciples to ask of Jesus. Does the question strike you as odd? Shouldn’t the one who pointed to Jesus, saying, “Behold the Lamb of God”, be a little more sure about Jesus’ identity as the promised Messiah? Join the club: theologians, Church Fathers, and modern scholars have wrestled with the same question over the centuries.

John’s hesitation might have been simply a difference between his expectations for ‘the coming one’ and what he actually heard about Jesus and his ministry. Maybe the miracles are just fanciful stories? If Jesus is the Messiah, why doesn’t he fast like an observant Jew? And he keeps company with a cast of characters normally to be avoided.

Was John experiencing a crisis of faith or uncertainty about Jesus’ identity? John’s expectations of the Messiah may have leaned toward a judgmental, apocalyptic deliverer, as seen in his preaching (Mt 3:10–12: “The axe is already at the root of the trees…”). Jesus’ ministry, by contrast, emphasized healing, mercy, and forgiveness, not immediate judgment. Imprisoned and possibly facing death, John might have wondered why the Messiah had not yet acted to bring justice or vindicate him. This view emphasizes John’s humanity, not a lack of faith per se, but confusion in light of unfulfilled messianic expectations.

Maybe John himself was not doubting, but he sent his disciples so they might be convinced of Jesus’ identity. knew his disciples needed to see for themselves. By sending them to Jesus, John directs them to the true Messiah, transferring their loyalty from himself to Christ. In this case, Jesus’ response (“Go and tell John what you hear and see..”) is a teaching moment for the disciples more than a rebuke of John. This view preserves John’s prophetic certainty and aligns with his earlier witness: “He must increase, and I must decrease” (Jn 3:3)

Prophets often posed questions to elicit revelation and John being a prophet might have deliberately posed this question to reveal Jesus’ identity more fully, using the moment as a teaching device for his followers and whoever happened to be around when Jesus answered.

To be fair, before Easter, no one fully understood the Messiah’s mission of suffering, redemption, and mercy. John’s question, then, mirrors the broader tension in Second Temple Judaism between expectations of a conquering Messiah and the reality of a suffering servant. Jesus’ answer, “Blessed is the one who takes no offense at me,” acknowledges this tension with compassion and understanding.

Another view is that John’s question stands at the threshold between Law and Gospel. Afterall, John is the last prophet of the old order and seeking confirmation that “Day of the Lord” has arrived, to use the older prophetic expression, or as we would say, has the Kingdom of God arrived? St. Augustine cleverly frames this view as the “Law asking the Gospel” whether it has come in the fullness of revelation.

The Baptist, whose proclamation introduced Matthew’s presentation of the Messiah (3:1–12), is now appropriately called as the first witness to the meaning of Jesus’ ministry. Even if in a round about manner.


Image credit: Christ Presenting the Keys to Saint Peter, c. 1636-40, by Nicholas Poussin, Public Domain

Salvation History: a Play told in three acts

I love the readings that are chosen for this celebration. I am convinced that all of Scripture is a single narrative that weaves and wanders its way through people and history to tell us a single story:  “God desires that all be saved” (1 Tim 2:4) These readings invite us to step back and look at the entire story of salvation from the first pages of Genesis, through the great hymn of grace in Ephesians, all the way to the quiet home in Nazareth where the angel Gabriel greets Mary. These three readings trace an arc through salvation history and reveal that God’s plan to save us has always centered on a woman, her Son, and the triumph of grace. It is like a grand, universal play written in three acts:

  • Genesis: The Wound and the Promise
  • Ephesians: The Plan from the Beginning
  • Luke: Grace Meets Freedom

Genesis: The Wound and the Promise

Our first reading from Genesis takes us to one of the saddest moments in Scripture: Adam and Eve hiding from God after the Fall.  Sin has entered the world. Fear has replaced intimacy. Trust has been broken. And yet God’s first response to human sin is not to abandon us, but to promise a Redeemer.

In Genesis 3:15 the Lord says to the serpent: “I will put enmity between you and the woman,
and between your offspring and hers.” This single verse, called the Protoevangelium – the “first Gospel,” is like a distant star at the edge of salvation history. It points forward to a woman who will be the enemy of the serpent, not his partner; a woman whose child will not fall but will crush the power of evil.

The early Christians saw in this promise the beginning of Mary’s story. Eve’s disobedience brought the Fall; Mary’s obedience opened the door for the Savior.  Eve listened to the serpent; Mary heard and trusted the voice of God.

For Mary to stand in perfect opposition to the serpent she must be free, from the very first moment, from the wound and burden of sin. Genesis shows us the problem and announces the promise. The Immaculate Conception is the first precursor to the fulfillment of God’s desire that all be saved.

Ephesians: The Plan from the Beginning

Our second reading from Ephesians tells us that God’s plan of salvation is not something He invented after the Fall. St. Paul proclaims: “He chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him.” Think about that. Before the world was made… before Adam and Eve walked in the garden… before there was sin… God intended to raise us up in Christ. Wow!

And in that eternal plan, God prepared one human person in a singular way: Mary, the woman who would freely bear His Son. The Church teaches that Mary was saved by Christ, as we are saved, as we depend wholly and solely on Jesus. But Mary was saved in a unique way. Christ’s saving grace reached into the very moment of her conception, preserving her from original sin so that she could be a wholly free, completely loving participant in the Incarnation. The moment in salvation history where God so loved the world, He sent his only Son into the world as one of us.

Ephesians shows us that grace is not random.  Grace flows from a plan “before the foundation of the world.”  And Mary is the singularity in the arc of that plan.

Luke:  Grace Meets Freedom

And then, in the Gospel, we see that plan come to the full. The angel Gabriel enters the quiet of Nazareth and speaks a word spoken to no one else in Scripture: “Hail, full of grace.” This was not meant as a simple compliment. It is an acknowledgment and description of who she is. Who she is! Grace is not something that occasionally visits Mary; it is her whole being. Her very life is like she feasted on the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden. Her roots are the deep foundations of grace, her branches and leaves are her graced interactions with the world. “Blessed is the fruit of your womb.” She is full of grace and because of that she is completely free. When Gabriel asks her to become the Mother of the Messiah, Mary is able to give a free, unforced, wholehearted yes: “May it be done to me according to your word.”

This is the moment that Genesis foresaw. This is the moment that Ephesians anticipated. This is the moment when the Word becomes flesh because a young woman, prepared by grace, freely embraced her vocation.

What has been revealed in these readings?

This celebration and these readings are a wonderful source for our ongoing reflection about our lives here in the Season of Advent. 

We can be assured that God’s grace always comes first.  Before we act, before we choose, God is already at work preparing our hearts. The Immaculate Conception is the great sign that God’s grace precedes and surrounds all our efforts. Are we attentive to that already and always present grace? Are we willing to choose grace and let it form us as a person of faith?

In these readings, Mary shows us what redeemed humanity looks like. Where sin has wounded us, Mary enables us to imagine what healing looks like. Where fear paralyzes us, Mary shows us what trust looks like. She is the fulfillment of the promise of what God desires to do in us and for us.

All this and more, but especially Mary’s “yes”, is the pattern of Christian life. We may not encounter an angel, but each day the Lord asks us:  Will you trust me?  Will you let my grace work in you?  Will you say yes to the plan I have prepared for your life?

Perhaps the “big take-away,” Mary’s life teaches us that holiness begins not with perfection, but with availability and a heart open to God.

It is a lot to think about and reflect upon, but I hope that this Advent you take time to be available to the Lord with an open heart inspired by the life and gift of Mary, Mother of God.

Amen.


Image credit: Catholic News Service | Immaculate Conception | CC-BY

A History: The Immaculate Conception

It’s important to understand what the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception is and what it is not. Some people think the term refers to Christ’s conception in Mary’s womb without the intervention of a human father; but that is the Virgin Birth. Others think the Immaculate Conception means Mary was conceived “by the power of the Holy Spirit,” in the way Jesus was, but that, too, is incorrect. The Immaculate Conception means that Mary, whose conception was brought about the normal way, was conceived without original sin or its stain—that’s what “immaculate” means: without stain. The essence of original sin consists in the deprivation of sanctifying grace, and its stain is a corrupt nature. Mary was preserved from these defects by God’s grace; from the first instant of her existence she was in the state of sanctifying grace and was free from the corrupt nature original sin brings.

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In the narrative flow

This coming Sunday is the 3rd Sunday in Advent, lectionary cycle A, and again John the Baptist features prominently in the gospel text. Where last week we encountered him as the herald of the Messiah, this week John has been arrested and is jailed. Before moving into the study, let’s consider where this story fits into the narrative flow of Matthew’s gospel – there has been a lot that has happened in the narrative flow between the two Sunday gospel readings.

A key phrase in the first verse of the gospel reading is the expression “works of the Messiah” (Mt 11:2). That forms an all encompassing summary of what Jesus has been doing in Matthew chapters 5–10. Along the way Jesus’ acts and teachings provoke different responses from different groups. These responses, most of which consist of misunderstanding if not outright rejection, are examined in chapters 11–12, and explained in the parables of chapter 13. Further examples of the response to Jesus will occur in chapters 14–16, until the true response is found in Peter’s confession in 16:13–20, which will bring the second main part of Matthew’s Gospel to its climax. This is the thread which runs through these chapters. Through them we are led from a view of Jesus as others saw him to the true confession of him as Messiah which eluded most of his contemporaries, conditioned as they were by their own assumptions or some inadequate ideas of the nature of the promised Messiah.

More immediately, this passage marks a transition. “When Jesus finished giving these commands to his twelve disciples, he went away from that place to teach and to preach in their towns” (Mt 11:1).  With this one verse, Matthew signals the end of the missionary discourse (Mt 10) in 11:1 with nothing said about the disciples’ actual mission or their return (as in Luke 9). The spotlight remains on Jesus as he continues his work. The themes of unbelief and rejection that were so prominent in the missionary discourse are continued, but we are given more information about Jesus’ identity as the Messiah (11:1–6), the Wisdom of God (11:25–30), and the Servant of God (12:15–21) in the coming gospels.

That’s the context of the narrative flow, but this passage also has a liturgical context in its use as the Gospel of the 3rd Sunday in Advent, Gaudete Sunday. On the 2nd Sunday of Advent, our Gospel reading presented the preaching of John the Baptist. Near the end of that reading, Matthew portrays John, not only as a prophet, but as a forerunner to Jesus. John is quoted as speaking about “the one who is coming after me,” who “is mightier than I” (3:11), which makes that selection especially appropriate for Advent.  On the 3rd Sunday of Advent this year, we read the episode in which John, already in prison, sends some of his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?” (11:3). Jesus does not respond directly, but simply points out that he is doing the things Isaiah mentions in describing a time when people will experience God’s glory and splendor, restoration and salvation (alluding to Isa 35:1-6, the 3rd Advent Sunday’s first reading). It is this accent, in anticipation of its joyous fulfillment that gives Gaudete Sunday its focus.

In either its scriptural or liturgical focus, a key point is that if both prophet and Messiah have appeared, then their joint call to repentance (recall 3:2; 4:17) must be urgently heeded – be it John’s message unremittingly austere or Jesus also preaching the joy of the kingdom (11:16–19).


Image credit: Christ Presenting the Keys to Saint Peter, c. 1636-40, by Nicholas Poussin, Public Domain

Protecting the Soul of the Warfighter

Over the last month I have had numerous people ask me about my views on the U.S. military action in the waters, Atlantic and Pacific, off the coast of Central America. About half of the conversations began with some form of “since you are a Naval Academy (USNA) grad, former Naval officer, and a priest…”  Which makes sense as they hope a fusion of training and experience can offer a more insightful view of the ongoing dynamic.

At one level there is a complex legal question about the legitimacy of kinetic military action at all as opposed to law enforcement action. On the seas, military action is in the purview of the U.S. Navy while law enforcement in the U.S. Coast Guard. A long time friend, also a USNA grad, career naval officer, and PhD in international relations and security affairs – year ago did a Masters degree at Naval Post Graduate School, Monterey – some 35 years ago. While there he wrote an article that was published in US Naval Institute Proceedings: “Interdicting Drugs on the Big Pond.” Of the many insightful points of the article, he noted that the sea-based drug trafficking was quickly outstripping the Coast Guard’s ability to act in its law enforcement role. He observed that, in the role of national security, a path forward was the stationing of Coast Guard officers on US naval vessels to be able to bring authorized law enforcement to at sea encounters. It was insightful as it looked well “over the horizon.”

There are laws and precedence about declaring war, presidential authority to initiate armed conflict apart from Congressional action, and more. In the course of my lifetime we have moved from armed conflict between state actors (i.e. nations, including civil wars within nations) to armed conflict with non-state actors such as ISIS, Hezbollah, Abu Sayyaf, Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan and more. There are laws to designate such organizations as terrorist groups. This January President Trump designated several drug trafficking organizations as Foreign Terrorist Organizations (FTOs) and Specially Designated Global Terrorists (SDGTs), and has declared the U.S. to be in an “armed conflict” with them. The legality of such executive orders I leave to others eminently qualified and more knowledgeable than me.  Even if one accepts such designations, operations in international waters is one question, and that is just the start of the list of questions.

In the conversations one thing keeps cropping up – a conflation of the Law of War and rules of engagement (RoE) for combat. Any veteran who served in the last 20-25 years can tell you they have operated under these guidelines. RoE outlines the specific conditions and circumstances under which military personnel are authorized to use force. These rules are not static and can change depending on the specific mission, location, and conflict, and can include guidelines on lethal and non-lethal force, geographic restrictions, and specific instructions such as “do not fire unless fired upon” directives. RoE are based on international laws, but are specific military directives – and are not independent of the Law of War but are based upon them. A RoE can never violate the Law of War to which the United States is a signatory. The primary international agreements determining the Law of War are the Geneva Conventions of 1949 and their Additional Protocols of 1977, which protect victims of conflict (wounded, POWs, civilians) and set rules for conduct, alongside earlier Hague Conventions of 1899 & 1907 that govern methods and means of warfare, forming a core body of treaties supplemented by customary law. The laws of war reflect the mandatory, minimum level of lawful conduct, and all combatants are legally obligated to obey them at all times and in all conflicts. “Following orders” is not a defense.

Those agreements are incorporated into the Department of Defense Law of War Manual. Let me quote two passages: 

  • “The requirement to refuse to comply with orders to commit law of war violations applies to orders to perform conduct that is clearly illegal or orders that the subordinate knows, in fact, are illegal. For example, orders to fire upon the shipwrecked would be clearly illegal.”
  • “It is forbidden to declare that no quarter will be given.” A no quarter order is an order directing the warfighter to kill every combatant, including prisoners, the sick and the wounded. The DoD manual is specific, “Moreover, it is also prohibited to conduct hostilities on the basis that there shall be no survivors, or to threaten the adversary with the denial of quarter.”

What did the Secretary of Defense order/direct/make clear about the strikes in general? How was that understood and communicated down the chain of command to the Special Operations units that executed the kinetic strike against the boats, especially the September 2 engagement in which the initial strike severely damaged the vessel but there were at least two survivors who were clinging to the side of what was left of the vessel?  Executive declarations and subsequent orders aside, the Law of War established the bottom line of conduct that may not be breached. Any order to violate those laws and to carry them out constitutes a violation of the Law of War and subjects those people to action under the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ).

The “bottom line”nature of the Law of War as implemented via international agreement and incorporated into the Department of Defense Law of War Manual is essential. Essential because no president or senior officer may abrogate the law or its intent because of what is at stake – the soul of the warfighter.

The laws of war are an effort to contain the brutality of combat and war. These limits make peace possible. Recently I produced a series of articles on the War in the Pacific. When one reads about Guadalcanal, Biak, Saipan, Pelilui, Manilla, Iwo Jima, and Okinawa one wonders how the war in the Pacific was so unrelentingly horrific and so different from the war in Europe (the Russian front aside). I would suggest that the Japanese military did not share a common value with the Allies that gave credence to anything remotely similar to the Law of War. Before WW2, the law of war was defined by the Hague Conventions and the 1929 Geneva Conventions on Prisoners of War. To be clear, Japan signed the 1929 POW convention but did not ratify it, though they pledged to follow rules. The history of the War in the Pacific and in Asia make clear that the Japanese army never made the slightest pretense of complying with the laws of war. Theirs was a checkered history of rescuing sailors from the ocean; some were simply shot. Of those rescued and those captured, the records were consistent. They tortured prisoners and used them as slave labor and for a few unlucky, performed biological experiments. Those responsible were subject to War Crime trails.

It is fair to say that the Allies operating in the Pacific and Asia were not free of violations. As the war trudged on and knowledge of Japanese crimes became known and circulated, incidents of fury and revenge happened. Added to this was the battlefield experience that the Japanese would not surrender. In the battles after Guadalcanal, less than 3% of Japanese garrisons were captured and most of those unwillingly. It was only because they were diseased, starving and left behind. The bushido of the Japanese army was that death was preferable to surrender. Slowly the object of war in the Pacific was changed from from victory to annihilation in the face of a defeated enemy who would not surrender.

The Laws of War also serve to help preserve a soldier’s soul. The foundational documents of our nation are based upon the idea of the dignity of the human person. Even more so the foundations of our Catholic faith which holds that human beings possess incalculable worth. It is a foundation that is deeply ingrained in an individual’s moral code.

If our warfighters are ordered to contradict this intrinsic value, we can inflict a profound moral injury on them. These are injuries that burden them, haunt their memories, and they may carry for a lifetime. Even when they follow the Law of War and RoE, they can be haunted by their own actions or inaction in something they witnessed and unable to stop. Armed conflict is something that might be necessary, but I would suggest the experience of it leaves an indelible mark on the spirit and soul. Moral injuries in combat are unavoidable even when following the RoE and Law of War. What is avoidable is the guilt of criminal conduct by deliberately killing the people we are charged to protect.

Be they drug smugglers or not, one should have compassion for the two men who clung to the side of their sinking vessel and faced the uncertainty of what was to be their fate. Their fate is known to God alone. But years from now, somewhere in the quiet of the night, a veteran will be haunted by the actions of that day.

The Law of War and RoE are in place to protect the soul of the warfighter as best as can be expected. They are in place to protect and defend the honor and integrity of the American military, one of the most-trusted institutions in the United States. They are in place to remind us who we are as a nation and who we are as people before God. For we are that and nothing more.

Hope Restored

Readings from the Prophet Isaiah are part-and-parcel of Advent. This past week all the first readings were from Isaiah taken from various chapters and all well chosen for the Season of Advent. Every reading proclaimed verses which, to our Christian ears and understanding, are promises of a Messiah to come – a covenant promised fulfilled. It is a message of Hope for us. The words were a much needed beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded the people of Jerusalem in the prophet Isaiah’s own time. 

The audience was the people of Judah and Jerusalem in the late 8th century B.C., during the reign of King Hezekiah. More specifically, Isaiah addressed three groups of people. Firstly, Isaiah addressed the leadership of Jerusalem (political and religious). Isaiah often portrayed them as blind, deaf, and stubborn (cf. Is 29:9–16) because they paid more attention to pomp, circumstance, gold and glory. They were not leading the people into covenant with God, much the opposite. And so Isaiah also spoke to the wider population, those led astray and whose spiritual perception had become dulled. 

The glory days of King David are long gone and by comparison, the great tree of Jerusalem is like a stump: lifeless and increasingly barren. And now the Assyrians are at the gates of Jerusalem. They have conquered 10 of the 12 tribes already. Jerusalem is next. Hope is quickly fading like a dying ember as the hour approaches midnight.

But there is another group within the city. The prophet Isaiah also addressed a faithful remnant – people who are righteous before God and yet their world is crumbling. They need reassurance that God will act to save and restore the situation that is clearly going astray. They need hope that a Messiah would come to set things aright. Today, our first reading gives us one of the most hope-filled visions in all of Scripture: “A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom” (Is 11:1).

That single line can be an anchor for your Advent reflections. Why? But Isaiah teaches us one of the great Advent truths:  God does His best work with stumps.

When everything looks finished, when the situation looks hopeless, when the future seems cut down to the ground, it is then that God begins something new. The “shoot” is small, fragile, humble. But it is alive, and it carries the promise of a new Kingdom. Someone small, fragile and humble was born in a manger in Bethlehem. It was the beginning of something new. Someone who was revealed, just as Isaiah said, with the gifts of the Spirit: “a spirit of wisdom and of understanding, a spirit of counsel and of strength, a spirit of knowledge and of fear of the Lord” (11:2). He was the One for whom Israel waited. He is the One we await at Christmas yet the One who already reigns. He is the One who can work with the stumps in our lives – that part of us that seems cut down or dying. What might that be?

Hope, because there are days when the news feels overwhelming; when the world feels unstable; or when personal disappointments pile up. Hope can feel like a cut-down stump. Yet Christ is the “shoot” who revives it.

Maybe trust seems dead or dying in our lives because we experience betrayals, family wounds, and broken promises. A person can feel unable to trust others, family members, themselves or even God. Trust can feel like a cut-down stump. Yet Christ is the “shoot” who revives it.

Compassion and tenderness seem absent because stress and busyness can harden hearts. We become too preoccupied and so we respond more with irritation than empathy. We find we can neither give or receive compassion. It can all feel like a cut-down stump. Yet Christ is the “shoot” who revives it.

Has our ability to forgive been cut back? Are we still a forgiving people? Forgiveness might be absent because we carry the burden of memory and hurts that we can’t shake, can’t set down. Resentments have settled in over the years and petrified a part of our heart. It feels even worse than a cut down stump. Yet Christ is the “shoot” who revives it.

What about our prayer life? Because of everything already mentioned and even more, we may be bereft of courage, of joy, of wonder, and patience. Prayer feels dry, mechanical, or absent. It seems “dead,” as though not even the stump is left. Christ can awaken it with one small word spoken into a dark night: “Lord, help me to pray.”

“Lord, help me to hope, trust, be compassionate, and forgive… even when I don’t feel like it. Lord, take my stumps and from them may your grace give forth a bud that will blossom.”

Advent is a time to be attentive and bring “our stumps” to prayer and to the Sacraments, especially the Eucharist. Bring them and give them over to the One who brings life out of nothing.

A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom” (Is 11:1) The Messiah has come and will come again – but He is with us even now in the Word of God, the Eucharist, and in the Spirit. A shoot is ever and already sprouting. In Him through Him and with Him you have the possibilities of being restored and renewed so that from you the bud of Christ will blossom.

And in time from that bud shall come a new, strong, tall tree upright before God.

Amen


Image credit: Prophet Isaiah, Mosaic, Right of Lunette, South Wall of Presbytery, Basilica of San Vitale | PD-US | Pexels

Not Everyone Who Came

Not everyone who came to the river was seeking renewal and Elijah. 7 When he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Historically, in the Judaism of Jesus’ time, the Pharisees and Sadducees were opposing religious parties, unlikely to work together. Matthew is not reporting the facts of an event, but is describing the Jewish opposition as a united front, already manifesting itself against John as it would later against Jesus. John does not shy away from the opposition, but labels them a “brood of vipers” (literally “sons of snakes.”) It paints the image of people scurrying away from the coming eschatological judgment like snakes fleeing a forest fire. 

John’s words seem to be aimed at the “brood of vipers,” but the words equally apply to all gathered at the river: 8 Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance. 9 And do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones. 10 Even now the ax lies at the root of the trees. Therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. The theme of the coming eschatological judgment appears again with an image of the axe at the root of the tree but is prefaced with “even now.” The judgment is just over the hill and headed this way, relentless and will brook no exceptions. You will not be saved on the basis of your lineage to Abraham. But then the story of John in the wilderness also has an audience in the nascent church (as well as today) – membership in the Church in certainly a new lineage to Christ, but judgment is based the call to discipleship, to baptism, and giving evidence of one’s conversion in the fruits of one’s life lived out as disciples to Jesus, a theme repeated in 7:16–20; 12:33; and 21:18–19).

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Being Attentive

Each Friday, the daily Mass includes the children, teachers and staff of our parish elementary school. And so the readings are taken from the Children’s Lectionary – while the themes are the same, the readings may be different. The post at 9:00 am today was a homily that would have been for one of the readings of the day -Isaiah in particular. This post is a reflection for elementary school students on Luke 12:35-38 – be prepared and keep the lamps burning.


Without a doubt the gospel is about being ready, being prepared. Even the opening verse says, “Be ready and keep your lamps burning.” And absolutely do that, be prepared for Christmas. Make room in your hearts for Jesus’ coming: be kinder, be more patient (especially when things don’t go your way), express your gratitude by saying thank you and letting people know you appreciate them – and make more time for prayer.  All of these are ways to prepare for Christmas.

But you know what stands out for me in that gospel? The servants are paying attention. Their eyes are open, their ears are listening, their hearts are awake. They don’t want to miss the moment when their master arrives. Jesus is not just saying, “Be ready.” He’s also saying: “Pay attention to Me. Don’t miss the ways I come to you.” During Advent, that is one of the most important things we can learn—how to pay attention to Jesus. How can we do that?

Pay Attention to People Who Need Love. Sometimes Jesus comes to us in a person who needs something: someone sitting alone at school, a sibling or classmates who seems sad. A parent who looks tired. When we pay attention, we notice these things. And then we can pray that Jesus help us to do or say the right thing. Or maybe combining “bring prepared” and “paying attention” we can start the day by praying: “Jesus, help me notice who needs kindness today.”  Now you are specially prepared to be attentive to the needs of others. And in this way you are attentive to Jesus living in others.

Pay Attention to Quiet Moments. Advent is a busy time—lights, music, shopping, parties. But Jesus also comes in the quiet moments, when our hearts can hear Him best. During Advent you might:

  • Sit silently for 20–30 seconds and talk to Jesus in your heart
  • When you see an Advent wreath and remember Jesus is near
  • When you see someone who needs kindness, say a small prayer on the way to school

These simple moments help us and remind us to pay attention to Jesus’ gentle voice.

Pay Attention to Goodness. Jesus often shows Himself through good things around us: a friend’s smile, a teacher’s patience, a sunset, a moment when you felt forgiven, a time when you did something kind or loving. During Advent, try to notice the good things God puts in your day and simply say: “Thank you, Jesus, for being with me.” Gratitude helps our hearts stay open, making room for Jesus.

Paying Attention to the Christmas Story. Sometimes we can get so excited about gifts and decorations that we forget the real story. During Advent, you can pay attention to Jesus by intentionally looking at a nativity scene and thinking about each person in the scene. Read a Bible story about Jesus’ birth with your family. When you see a Santa Clause in a book or in the shopping mall, smile and remember Mary and Joseph making their way to Bethlehem.  Amidst all the family traditions, always remember who we’re waiting for.

Each day of Advent, try to be attentive to moments when Jesus is close—and respond to it. It might be a person, a prayer, a good action, or a quiet moment. This is how we “pay attention” to Jesus as Christmas draws near.

So today, let’s ask Jesus to help us: Open our eyes to see Him. Open our ears to hear Him. Open our hearts to welcome Him. That is the Advent way of paying attention to the Lord who loves us.

Still in Need of Conversion

In today’s reading from Isaiah, we hear a beautiful vision: “The deaf shall hear… the eyes of the blind shall see… the lowly will find joy in the Lord.” These words are full of hope, and we rightly cherish them during Advent. They promise renewal, justice, and a people restored to God. But if we read the whole chapter, Isaiah’s hope comes only after a very hard truth. Before the healing comes the diagnosis. Before the restoration comes the revelation of what is broken.

Isaiah speaks to a faithful remnant, people who want to follow God and so cling to the covenant. But he also tells them that they are still part of a larger community of people who have become blind, deaf, self-satisfied, unjust, and spiritually forgetful. It is a remarkable tension: Israel is both remnant and rebellious; faithful, yet deeply flawed; and chosen, yet still wandering.

That well describe many of us here in the first week of Advent

We are the faithful remnant. We are here at daily Mass listening to the Word of God. We pray. We serve. We try to love our families and neighbors. We want the Lord to come and find us ready.

But we are also the people Isaiah warns. We are not separate from the blindness and deafness he condemns; some of it lives quietly within us. We hear God’s Word, but we can be deaf to the parts that challenge our comfort. We see God’s blessings, but we can be blind to our own patterns of sin. We pray with our lips, yet our hearts drift into distraction, self-protection, or indifference. We want justice, but sometimes resist the personal conversion that justice requires. We admire God’s mercy, but can be slow to offer it to others.

Isaiah is not just speaking to the miscreants and wayward. He is speaking to all of God’s people, including those conscientiously trying to walk in faith. This is why the Church gives us Isaiah in Advent. Not to condemn, but to awaken. Not to shame, but to shake loose what has grown numb or complacent in us. 

The good news is that God does not reveal our blindness to punish us. He reveals it to heal that blindness. Isaiah says: “Those who err in spirit shall acquire understanding, and those who find fault shall receive instruction.”

This is a promise directed not to strangers, but to us. If we admit what is not yet right in our hearts, God will teach us. If we bring Him the parts of us that resist Him, He will give understanding. If we acknowledge our spiritual deafness or blindness, He will open our ears and eyes.

Advent is only a few short weeks, but we can still name our blindness and deafness. And then ask God to show us how we might be part of the problem. We can examine our prayer life. Is it routine? How is our attitude? Are we becoming more jaded? Impatient? Uncharitable? 

Advent is not only about waiting for Christ. It is about making room for Him and making room requires clearing away what blocks the door. But it is also remembering that all this is spoken with a hopeful message surrounding it all: God already sees the remnant in us. He can heal what we cannot. He can restore what looks worn out. He can remove what blinds us or renders us deaf.

Advent offers that grace now that we might be ready, not only as the faithful remnant who hope, but as the people who allow themselves to be ever changed and growing so that the promise of Isaiah will be fulfilled in us: “The lowly shall find joy in the Lord.”


Image credit: Prophet Isaiah, Mosaic, Right of Lunette, South Wall of Presbytery, Basilica of San Vitale | PD-US | Pexels

Lost Along the Way

Just as in all the weekday reading for this first week in Advent, today’s first reading is taken from Isaiah 29:17-24.  Over the course of the week we have jumped from Isaiah 11, hopscotching our way to Isaiah 29. The readings are well chosen for the Season of Advent as all the selections carry with it a modern Christian understanding as a promise to believing people of the Christian era that points to a Messianic restoration. It becomes a message to all people whose hearts are converted and who “stand in awe of the God of Israel” (Is 29:23).

But some things are lost along the way. It is good to know Isaiah’s immediate audience, the context of the times and situation, and the fundamental message the prophet is proclaiming to that audience. Lest you think that just a “bible study” thing, I would suggest that by knowing those things, there is additional content for our modern day Advent reflection.

The audience is the people of Judah and Jerusalem in the late 8th century B.C., during the reign of King Hezekiah. More specifically, Isaiah is addressing three groups of people. Firstly, Isaiah is addressing the leadership of Jerusalem (political and religious). Isaiah often portrayed them as blind, deaf, and stubborn (cf. Is 29:9–16). Isaiah is also speaking to the wider population, many of whom have been led astray by corrupt leadership and whose spiritual perception has become dulled. And lastly, the prophet addresses the faithful remnant, who need reassurance that God will act to save and restore the situation that is clearly going astray.

Our reading sits within the larger apocalyptic section of chapters 28–33 whose context in history is in the shadow of the threat of the nation of Assyria whose armies are marching on Jerusalem. Some leaders in Jerusalem are seeking political alliances (e.g., Egypt) rather than trusting God. The people are accused of lip-service to religion:“this people draws near with words, honors me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me” (Is 29:13). In this run-up to our reading, saiah has just issued a series of woes condemning Judah’s spiritual blindness, moral corruption, and political cynicism.

The immediate literary context is that God has rebuked the leaders who think they can hide their plans from Him (29:15–16). God instructed the prophet to issue an indictment of the people for spiritual blindness and deafness as he warned them about empty worship (29:13–14). After these warnings, 29:17–24 shifts dramatically into promises of future reversal, healing, and renewal. This pattern of a warning followed by a vision of hope is typical of Isaiah.

The fundamental message of the reading is that God will bring a great reversal: “But a very little while, and Lebanon shall be changed into an orchard, and the orchard be regarded as a forest” (Is 29:17). Lebanon, known for forests, becomes a cultivated field; the field becomes a forest. This metaphor signals that God will overturn the present order: what seems barren will flourish, and what seems powerful will be humbled.

The reversal will also address the life of an individual: God will heal spiritual blindness and deafness: “On that day the deaf shall hear the words of a book; And out of gloom and darkness, the eyes of the blind shall see.” (29:18). 

The reversal will reach into the circumstances of life. The humble and poor “shall rejoice in the Holy One of Israel” (29:19). 

God will vindicate those who have been crushed by unjust leadership who will be judged: “The tyrant shall be no more… all who are alert to do evil shall be cut off” (29:20–21).
The message is that the present injustice in Judah will not last.

The people will be restored to true faith: “They shall keep my name holy; they shall fear the God of Israel” (29:23).

The passage ends with a purified remnant who truly worships God. As well those who had gone astray will gain understanding: “Those who err in spirit shall acquire understanding” (29:24).


Image credit: Prophet Isaiah, Mosaic, Right of Lunette, South Wall of Presbytery, Basilica of San Vitale | PD-US | Pexels