Today’s readings sketch profiles of individuals after whom we can model our lives as we embark on our pilgrimage to messianic fulfilment. Isaiah depicts the righteous messianic king; Paul provides us with a glimpse of Jesus, the one who ministers to all; and Matthew describes John the Baptist, the prophet who prepared for the Advent of Christ. The gifts Isaiah attributes to the messianic king are the same gifts that we receive with the anointing of the Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord. The image of the messianic king may have been fulfilled in Jesus, but it is also offered to us as a model after which we can pattern our lives. John the Baptist lived a life of radical self-denial, but he did not require this of others. He preached repentance or change of heart, not a rejection of the circumstances of life. He called for a return to righteousness, to relationships rooted in honesty and respect. He condemned presumption and arrogant reliance on one’s religious origin, complacency and the shirking of responsibility, disinterest in the welfare of others
The readings of the First Sunday of Advent set the stage for our reflections on the entire season. They contain a number of promises, all pointing to peace and fulfilment. The promises reveal a loving and provident, a merciful and forgiving God. These are promises full of hope. The coming of the Lord is clearly a time of expectation, not of fear and trembling. Although the earlier tradition about the Day of the Lord included punishment of the wicked, the focus here is on redemption. The time of expectation may be preceded by apocalyptic signs in the heavens and dismay on earth, but this cosmic shift will bring fulfilment, not destruction. The love and providence, the mercy and forgiveness of God will be made manifest. An Advent way of life exhorts us to ‘wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Saviour Jesus Christ’. This way of life is both simple and profound. It does not necessarily require unusual behaviour on our part, but it calls us to live the usual unusually well. It affects the everyday events of life; it directs the way we interact with people; it informs the attitudes that colour our judgments and motivations. It is as ordinary as the birth of a child; it is as extraordinary as the revelation of God.
Luke’s Gospel has been loaded with surprises: the poor are rich, sinners find salvation, the Kingdom of God is found in our midst. Here we see the greatest surprise of all. We are confronted with the crucified Jesus, whom faith tells us is King and Saviour of all. The irony is that the inscription placed on the cross, perhaps in mockery, contains the profoundest of truth. As the leaders jeer, the thief crucified by his side recognizes Jesus as Messiah and King, and finds salvation. Jesus is King, but not the kind of king we might have imagined or expected. His kingship was hidden from many of his contemporaries, but those who had the eyes of faith were able to see. As modern disciples of Jesus, we, too, struggle at times to recognize Jesus as King. Today’s Gospel invites us to make our own judgment. With eyes of faith, we, too, recognize that Jesus, the crucified One, is indeed King and Saviour of all.
Although the narrative readings for today concentrate on the disruptions that will accompany the coming of God, they also contain hints of the salvation that will finally arrive. Malachi speaks of the sun of justice that comes with healing rays; Luke promises that the faithful disciples will escape without a hair of their heads being destroyed. Just as the descriptions of the upheavals should not be understood literally, neither should these descriptions. It may be that the faithful followers of Jesus will suffer terrible agonies. The point here is that even in the midst of their pain, they will be protected. The healing rays of justice and the rescue of the lives of the upright are references to salvation. God does not come at the end to condemn, but to save. Furthermore, the suffering that precedes the end is intended for purification and refinement, not punishment. Christians are exhorted to live in this end time with patient endurance of difficulties.
The Basilica of John Lateran in Rome, is not just any building, it is the first official ‘home’ for the Church in Rome. It is considered to be the ‘mother church’ of Rome and is dedicated to John the Baptist and John the Evangelist. The readings today keep our focus on the fact that the church is not only a building but a gathering (in Greek, ekklesia) of believers. John’s Gospel transforms the understanding of where we find God, not in sacred buildings but firstly in the person of Jesus. The Christian community later understood that even though Jesus was no longer physically present, God was still dwelling with them, in the community, so Paul spoke of the people as a Temple – a dwelling place of God. So really, today we are not celebrating bricks and mortar, but the flesh and blood people down through the centuries, including you and me, who are God’s dwelling place in the world, God’s Temple.
In God there is mercy in abundance. Jesus is not willing to lose anyone. Therefore, the power of Jesus and the strength of his promises give us hope that even after death there is the possibility of purification and pardon. We have no idea of when this might happen or how it will happen. All we know is that the loving kindness of God far surpasses any infidelity of which we might be guilty. The feast of All Souls is not a feast of sadness, but one of great hope and confidence. It invites us to entrust our dead to God, because we know that they are really God’s dead. We know that if we have loved them, God has loved them more. They are in God’s care, and like a good shepherd God will lead them to peace.
Jesus extols the humility of the one who admits being a sinner, and can accept the implications of that admission. This is the kind of prayer that is described in the reading from Sirach and the Psalm response. It is those who can admit that they are needy who turn to God in that need. It is those who trust that God will be their strength in the face of their weaknesses who are strengthened. Paul’s own prayer demonstrates the attitudes that should be ours as we pray. Like the Pharisee, he acknowledges his success. He has competed well; he has finished the course; he has kept the faith. However, unlike the Pharisee, he acknowledges that God is the source of any good he has been able to accomplish. The Lord stood by him and gave him strength. If there is any glory, it belongs to God. Paul’s confident prayer springs from a humble heart.
The idea of prayer changing us, changes our prayer – giving it greater dynamism and urgency. While we may not know the mind or will of God, we often know our own thoughts and desires. We can usually pinpoint what needs recrafting or reshaping in us so that we may live out the goodness and love of God more clearly. Confronting and converting these obstacles, with God, can see our prayer at its boldest and bravest. At these times we can enjoy God’s healing and forgiveness. And because conversion is a lifetime process, Jesus encourages us not to lose heart but to pray always and hold on to faith even when the going gets tough. May this Eucharist help us to move away from demanding that God change his mind or will, to allowing his love to keep converting and changing us.
The leprosy of Naaman and the ten men in the gospel serves as a metaphor for sinfulness, the condition that makes us unfit for the presence of God. Separated from God and alienated from society, we are truly in a deplorable state, a state out of which we are unable to extricate ourselves. Into these seemingly hopeless conditions step the prophet Elisha and Jesus. Each in his own way brings the healing power and saving grace of God. After healing come gratitude and praise. Both Naaman and the lone Samaritan are so filled with gratitude that they return to the one responsible for their healing. They are not so preoccupied with their good fortune as to forget that it came to them as a gift. Their response is the kind of thanks and praise that is proclaimed in the psalm and that is also celebrated at each Sunday Eucharist. We have been saved from our alienation from God and from each other so let us give thanks to the Lord. Those who know that they have been healed, who realize that this was a gift freely given to them, and who return to give thanks have, by these acts of devotion, stepped over a threshold into a new way of living.
World Migrant and Refugee Sunday encourages us to ask how we can build a better future together. As with other large goals such as addressing climate change, this can seem overwhelming. The task is enormous and the resources are few. In all worthwhile human enterprises though, small is beautiful and we need to find a patch of rock at which we can chip away and go from there. There are many ways in which we can give to refugees our time, our resources, our voice and our heart. We can take refugees into our heart by supporting them in our own communities and taking practical steps to advocate for issues affecting their lives and futures. Reading their stories, listening to them speak, allowing time to imagine what it must be like to flee fearing for your life and desperate to find food and a night’s shelter for your family are some of the ways we can also connect with them. Through using our voice, heart, time and resources – we have the opportunity to advocate for actions we can take now that will help build the future we want: an Australia that welcomes people seeking asylum and treats them with humanity and compassion.