Sunday 2 of Advent (C-2006): Christ the Omega Point
(Read: Bar 5: 1-9; Phil 1: 4-6,8-11;
Lk 3:1-6)
In my younger years, I was inclined, without realizing it, to think of the Jesus
story as real, but somehow separate from normal historical events.
You might say that, in my mind, I kept him in some kind of cocoon or bubble.
I think this temptation is not uncommon, and shows itself in a number of ways.
One way is to enclose Jesus into parts of the calendar, usually Christmas and Easter – period.
At other times, it’s as if he didn’t
exist at all, or is put away in a “cupboard” somewhere in the soul until wheeled out to fulfill some psychological
need.
Another way of boxing Jesus up is to privatize him, that is, to squeeze him into that abstract domain called “privacy.”
Yet another, more subtle, way is to refuse to allow our childhood perception of Jesus to mature.
We suffer from a kind of “arrested development”
in the spiritual sphere and lock him into a childhood notion we had, and may still have, of him.
We turn him into a “shadow of himself”
by not allowing him to be more present and significant in our lives.
We hear many things said about him: he is light,
love, the good shepherd, the way, the truth and the life, the judge, the redeemer, and so on.
But, if we are honest, he remains fixed in our
minds as that statue or picture we once saw of him.
What can happen, therefore, is that we remove Jesus
from actual history, from being a real, living person in a dynamic relationship with every human being, including with myself.
In so doing, we effectively eliminate him from
reality.
Proof of that is the increasing irrelevance of
Jesus Christ for the so-called “real” lives of Catholics and Christians. No thought is paid to him in the, oh,
so important plans we have for our lives.
At best, we glibly recall one or other phrase of
his, very often to abuse it to suit ourselves.
As the prophet Isaiah once put it so bluntly: the
ox knows its owner and the ass the one who feeds it, but this people does not know me, says the Lord of Hosts.
Enter John the Baptist.
And how does St. Luke have him enter?
“In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberias Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, etc., the
word of God came to John son of Zecharaiah in the desert.”
In other words, Luke makes it very clear that John the Baptist, forerunner of Jesus Christ, is situated clearly in world history.
I repeat: Luke takes pains to make his readers and the hearers of his Gospel understand that John and Jesus are very much part of human history.
Just like lava erupts onto the earth, John proclaims the imminent eruption of God into human history. He cries out
in the desert, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths .... all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
And like the whole Gospel, these words of John are not valid only for the time in which he lived, but in every time.
Luke might well have written today, “In the sixth year of George W. Bush, when Adrian Fenty was mayor of Washington,
and Donald Wuerl Archbishop, the word of God came to Peter (that’s me!), son of William (that’s my dad!), in north-west
DC who cried out: Prepare the way of the Lord!”
And what is even greater than what Luke said about the Baptist is that Peter, through no merit of his own, offers to
all those who come to his Mass, not just the word of God, but also the living flesh and blood of the Son of God made man under
the species of bread and wine.
And what I, and every other priest, do/does for you today is indeed the fulfillment of what John prophesied.
For in the Eucharist, Christ truly, substantially
(remember “transubstantiation”?) comes to you.
He comes not as an old painting of himself, not
as a cute little figure in the crib, not as a static, irrelevant relic of the past, but in the glory of his risen body and
blood under sacramental form.
That is why the Church, and your priests, plead with you, cry to you and beg you,
with the Baptist: “Prepare the way of the Lord.”
“Make straight his paths.” That is, rouse yourselves to be rid of all that is twisted and crooked in your
lives so that you may receive Christ worthily, not only in the Eucharist, but also if you should die unexpectedly or if he
should end the world in your lifetime.
“Fill in every valley.” That is, fill the emptiness in your hearts with the grace and love of his heart.
Do not hold on to the black holes in your conscience or in your spirit. Do not cling to old, bad habits and compromises with
evil, which take you nowhere, except backwards and downwards. Rather, let them be filled with divine mercy and with faith
working through love.
“Every mountain and hill shall be made low.” That is, let go of your puffed up notions of yourself, of
your possessions and worldly achievements. I don’t mean throw them all away, but hold them with open hands, with a heart
grateful to God and generous in giving and sharing.
Do not leave Christ on the margins of your consciousness, on the edge of your life. Do not relegate him to some obscure
corner of your mind. Do not exclude him from how you take decisions, how you reflect and evaluate people or situations.
Bring Christ to the center of your heart, your mind, your memory, your imagination. Bring your flesh and blood to his
flesh and blood and live in your flesh and blood as if they were his flesh and blood – because the truth is, they are his!
Indeed, ask for the grace, not that Christ be part of your life, but that the whole
of your life be part of Christ.
To work patiently, perseveringly, trustingly and lovingly towards this goal is to work for the utter fulfillment of
your own life, your own history, your own destiny.
We mourn for so much in this life that is not worthy of our tears. We waste so much of our precious energies of mind
and heart and body on things which do not deserve them.
Although beautiful in themselves, such things can
actually seduce us away from He who is Beauty itself. For, as St. Augustine says, if such things had not been made by and
in him, they would not have been at all.
Why seek a cup of water when the Fountain of Living
Water awaits you?
Why seek the heat of a candle, when the Fire of
God is yours?
Why seek the light of a matchstick, when the Immortal
Light of Christ is yours?
I speak with urgency.
It is the urgency of the Baptist.
But it is also the urgency of our present time in which there are so many signs that humanity is growing increasingly
oblivious to God.
It is above all the urgency of Christ himself. For how can God enter history, as he did in Jesus Christ, and not set
in motion a relentless and inexorable movement of all time towards himself?
Jesus is not only not an appendix to history. He is its center, its meaning
and its consummation.
Advent simply draws our whole being to long for, to desire ardently that that consummation might come.
In the beautiful words of Baruch: “Jerusalem, that is, humanity, take off your robe of mourning and misery; put
on the splendor of glory from God forever; wrapped in the cloak of justice from God, bear on your head the mitre that displays
the glory of the eternal name.”
Who among us does not want the mourning and misery of so many millions, if not billions, of human beings to end?
Who among us does not want judgment and justice
for those who have plundered and raped, tortured and murdered throughout the course of history?
And how will that happen unless Jesus Christ brings
to an end the all too shameful history of humanity by coming again in glory to judge the living and the dead?
Advent is not a time to be wrapped up in our petty self-concerns. It is not the time to be complacent and small-minded
about our own existence. It is the time to open wide our heart and minds and to cry with loving urgency, “Marana tha!
Come, Lord Jesus!”
It is the time to experience a spiritual revolution, a courageous break with sin and mediocrity, and to seek that true
holiness of heart which gives Christ the freedom to manifest his glory in the whole of our lives.
Since so many of you do in truth desire and long for this inner revolution, let me end with the encouraging and consoling
words of St. Paul: “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until
the day of Christ Jesus.” Amen.
Msgr. Peter Magee
Sunday, December 10th, 2006
Annunciation, DC: 7.30 am
