The waiting of Advent is over. In the face of the impossible, God works the possible. During Advent, we have been waiting for the realisation of the promise made to David. We have been waiting for Mary’s yes. With this yes, hope is enlivened, and history is changed. There is an unimaginable future for all people, a future that comes from God. Salvation is created among us, and the fate of history is altered by a godly presence. This salvation resides in the hearts of those who believe in the gift, and who stay awake eagerly to know its coming. With David we await it, with the nations we long for it, with Mary we behold it.
Traditionally, the third Sunday of Advent is called Gaudete Sunday, the Sunday of Joy. The joy of this Sunday comes both from the message of the readings and from the anticipation that Christmas is nearing. As described in the Isaian passage, the Messiah is the one imbued with the spirit and with the power of the prophet, the one who will fulfill the promises of God. It becomes obvious in the Gospel that the Messiah is the one proclaimed by the Baptist. John cleared a path for the coming of the anointed one, and from that time on the lives of believers have been the pathway through which the Messiah has entered the world.
In the wilderness God’s salvation comes to a broken people. In the midst of what is seemingly an impossible situation, hope emerges with vigour. In this context, hope is an openness to surprise, the surprise that God is in no way limited to the imaginings of human minds and the consequences of human history. This is the kind of hope that is proclaimed in the wilderness by John; it is the kind of hope that trusts that from the impossible, God can work a new creation and inspire broken-hearted people. The contrite heart is a broken heart, an emptied-out heart, a hope-filled heart. It is a heart that is unencumbered by the past and that lives currently in the passing of time and the fragility of being alive. The contrite, broken heart can be filled only by what is promised in the future. This is the paradox of Advent. In the middle of the wilderness, God works the impossible in those whose hearts are ready for the surprise of hope.
Today’s readings at the beginning of Advent shapes the context for understanding the entire season. They fix our gaze on the world of human pain and then moves beyond it to the hope of a brighter future. Lamentation and expectation find fulfilment in the Day of the Lord. Waiting is a prominent image this Sunday. The readings suggest that we should wait with patient expectation for the day of reconciliation and peace; we should wait in joyful hope that what is to come will come soon. While we wait, we should faithfully fulfil our responsibilities. We believe that we have a future worth waiting for, that there are promises that God will keep. And so we look expectantly to the Day of the Lord, that future day of ultimate fulfilment.
We have now come to the end of the liturgical year, the point that marks the transition from one period to another. Today we see that the kingdom of God is inclusive. Its embrace is as comprehensive as is the embrace of God. Criteria for membership are not based on obedience to the commandments or on conformity to ritual obligation, but on the bonds of love and concern. What we do for others, we do for Christ, because Christ is identified with those in need. We very seldom see the face of the glorified Christ in the faces of the needy; it is more often the face of the disfigured Christ that is turned to us. We see his fear and his shame, his brokenness and sense of loss. As difficult as it may be to look into such eyes, it is precisely the needy with whom Christ is identified. Having entered into the frailty of human nature, identified himself with the needy, and handed himself over to death, in the end Christ will have conquered all. It is a curious kingdom that he has won, a kingdom of the weak rather than the strong. He has turned the standards of the world upside down. He has shown that it does not take strength to ignore or to exploit the needy, but it does take strength to overcome our own selfishness in order to serve them. The kingdom that Christ hands over to God is a kingdom of love and care.
The 33rd Sunday of the Year brings us close to the end of another liturgical year in the church. Next week’s feast of Christ the King concludes the current Year A liturgical cycle before we celebrate the beginning of Year B and Advent. So today’s readings reflect the nearness of the end times. The gospel has the theme: “the responsibility of talent.” No two of us gathered here today are alike. God has given us different talents or gifts to use for the good of all. Ultimately the “talent” from God is God’s very life, or grace. It is the talent of love that explodes from the reign of God everywhere in our midst, combating every form of evil. In using these talents we enrich our life and the lives of those around us. Sometimes we bury that gift. The first reading speaks of the wise woman who uses her talents to live a simple yet industrious life. The second reading suggests that the Master is nearer than we think. But the overall message is for us not to fear, but to know the Lord, and ourselves, in a new way, and be glad that his Day is near.
The strange allegory of the foolish and wise bridesmaids is the focus of today’s gospel reading. The bridegroom is coming, and at night, but where is the bride? She is ever waiting for his late arrival. The mysterious sense of time and place, and the feelings of anticipation and tension, colour this story. The Kingdom of God is near but we never know when the call to enter the Heavenly Banquet will come. Summer is near. At last it feels as if the season of light and heat has returned. We approach the end of another Church Year. Our gospels look ahead to the end of time. We are invited to ponder the mystery and place of wisdom, the focus of our first reading, in our journey through time. Like a dry weary land without water, do we thirst for God, as the Responsorial Psalm confidently proclaims? Do we have enough oil in our lamps to welcome the Lord when he comes?
By virtue of their baptism, all Christians are called to discipleship, which includes active participation in the mission of the church. In today’s first reading however, Jesus’ condemnation, along with the condemnation of the priests should be a warning to all who in any way exercise leadership. We must always be on our guard lest the trappings of leadership ensnare us and we fail in our responsibilities toward God and the community we serve. There is a mode of leadership that reflects the very meaning of authority. This way of leadership authors life. It is characterised by the striking image of a nursing mother who both gives and sustains life. Those who exercise leadership in this way create a community where life is fostered, not stifled, where talents serve all of the members, and the talents of all of the members are invited to serve. Such a community not only nurtures its members, it is itself the author of life in the world.
Our religious tradition is founded on love. Actually, life itself is grounded in love. We may not always feel this love, but if we allow ourselves to reflect on life, we will realise this truth. We have been called into being by God’s love; and we will only be happy if we live in that love. Thus, when we are directed to love God and love one another, we are not being asked to do something contrary to our nature. Rather, we are being told to live in accord with that nature. We come from God who is love, and so it is in our very nature to love and to be loved. We may sometimes think that it is easier to love God than to love others. It may actually be just the opposite. Other people are tangible. We can see and hear them, interact with them and so we show that we love God in the way we love our neighbour. Love, the foundation of the reign of God, is contagious. When we love others, the reign of God spreads throughout the world. The compassion that we show toward others is a form of evangelisation. It proclaims much louder than any words that the reign of God has been established.
God cares about and cares for all people and God works through all people to accomplish good in the world and we are all called on to praise God. Human beings have always realised that, in comparison with the grandeur and expansiveness of the universe within which they live, they are weak and vulnerable creatures. This has led them to believe in and offer homage to a divine being, or beings. Praise of God has always been an expression of awe and gratitude as well as humility. Today’s readings suggest that it is service of others that helps to break down the walls of prejudice. Social activists of our own age liberate not only the oppressed groups to which they belong, but also those who oppress them. The lives of these dynamic people show us that service of others draws them into our circles and encircles us in theirs. With open arms God invites all into an embrace of divine love. As God has embraced us, so we are called to embrace all others.