Homily for the Third Sunday in Advent.
Advent 3. Is. 61:1-2a,10-11; Thes.5:16-24; John
1:6-8,19-28.
AIM: To help the hearers experience Christian joy.
One of the abiding beauties of
childhood is the ability of little children to rejoice at the coming of
Christmas. Many people here know a young child who is already in a fever of
excitement, which increases each time a package is brought into the house to be
put away until the Great Day. Through children we relive some of the joy we once felt at their age at the coming
of Christmas.
Joy is the theme of the liturgy on
this third Advent Sunday. The first reading and the gospel both contain the
joyful proclamation that the long-promised servant of the Lord is at hand, the
Messiah. And the second reading tells us to “Rejoice always.”
Is that realistic? Can we rejoice always? Certainly not in
the sense of making life one long happy-happy celebration. Every life contains
sadness and hurt. Somewhere in this church right now someone is asking: “What
reason do I have for joy?” If that is your question, then let me speak very
personally to you. No matter what hurt
you bring here — loneliness, perhaps, disappointment, bereavement, or the pain
of some bitter injustice — you have, along with the pain and hurt, every reason for joy. Let me tell you
about three. Each is closely connected with Jesus Christ. We can rejoice because:
— Jesus is behind
us;
— Jesus is with us;
and —
— Jesus is ahead of
us.
Jesus is
behind us
At the first Christmas Jesus entered
into our human life. He shared everything life brings us, sin excepted. Jesus
experienced life’s joys: think of the wedding feast at Cana,
where the quantity of water he turned into wine would have kept the party going
for a week! But Jesus also tasted bitter grief. The shortest verse in the Bible
says that at the grave of his dear friend Lazarus “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). On
the cross Jesus experienced the most bitter injustice, and excruciating pain.
The babe in the feeding trough at Bethlehem, and
the man on the cross at Calvary, both
proclaim: God cares. God loves you.
Life is not meaningless, provided it
is lived for Him, and in the strength
that He alone can give. Sensing this in advance, Mary uttered the beautiful
words we repeated in today’s Responsorial Psalm: “My soul rejoices in my God.”
Despite suffering, injustice, and pain, we rejoice because Jesus shared it all.
Jesus is behind us. We have, however, a further reason to rejoice: the
knowledge that —
Jesus is
with us.
He is never distant, even when we
stray far from him. To be with Jesus, all that is necessary is a simple upward
movement of the heart. “Pray without ceasing,” our second reading told us. Is
that any more realistic than the command to rejoice always? If we think that
praying means reciting long prayers, it is not reasonable. Once we realize,
however, that short prayers are best, then praying always is realistic. How often, as we go through the day, do we have
reason to say: “Jesus, help me.” Whenever I realize, as I do often, how blessed
I am to be a priest, and how much more the Lord gives me every day than I could
ever deserve, I say over and over: “Lord, you’re so good to me, and I’m so
grateful.”
“My Lord and my God” is a perfect
prayer. So are the holy names, spoken as we cross the street, drive through
traffic, or stand in the checkout lane: “Jesus, Mary, Joseph.” Or simply the
name of Jesus alone, repeated with every breath, with every heartbeat: “Jesus,
Jesus, Jesus.” That is a perfect prayer, which goes straight to our heavenly Father,
reminding us at every moment that he is with us.
Jesus is with us in his holy word:
proclaimed here in the assembly of God’s people, or read over quietly by
ourselves. More than one person here has experienced, through hearing or
reading Holy Scripture, what those two friends of Jesus experienced on that
first Easter evening on the road to Emmaus: “Did not our hearts burn within us
as he ... explained the scriptures to us?” (Luke 24:32).
Jesus is with us in the sacraments,
especially in the sacrament we are celebrating right now: the Holy Eucharist.
Jesus is with us also (though we often forget this) whenever we encounter
someone in any kind of need. One day we shall hear him saying to us: “Inasmuch
as you did it — or failed to do it — to one of these least sisters or brothers
of mine, you did it — or failed to do it — to me” (Matthew
25: 40 & 45).
So we rejoice because Jesus has
entered into our human life, experiencing the same joys and sorrows we
experience. We rejoice also because Jesus is always with us. And our final
reason for joy in the knowledge that —
Jesus is
ahead of us.
The one future event that is
absolutely certain is death. If death were simply the snuffing out of a candle,
we should have little reason for joy. But death is infinitely more. Death is
the great transformation, the passage from this life, limited in a hundred ways
and shadowed by suffering, to life eternal: where there will be no limitations,
no suffering; where God will wipe away all tears from our eyes. The certainty
of death, and the parting from loved ones which death entails, sadden us. We
can rejoice, however, in the knowledge that when we come to walk that last
stretch of life’s way, we shall not be alone. Jesus will be with us. He is
waiting for us at the end of life’s road, to welcome us with joy to the eternal
dwelling place that he has gone ahead to prepare for each one of us (cf. John
14:2).
What reason have we, then, for joy? Every reason! We rejoice to know that
Jesus is behind us: he has entered into human life and shared it to the full.
We rejoice because Jesus is always with us: never distant, even when we stray
far from him. And we rejoice because Jesus is ahead of us: every day, every
hour, every tick of the clock brings us closer to the great encounter with Him
who loves us beyond our imagining.
And so now I, his unworthy but joyful
servant, invite you, once again, to join in the great feast in which we
celebrate this joy; where we encounter, as intimately as we can in this life
the One whom I now proclaim to you with great joy:
“Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, today, yes and forever”
(Heb. 13:8).