Second Sunday of Advent
“Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at end, her guilt is expiated.” These words open our first reading for this liturgy. They are found at the beginning of a section in Isaiah called the “Book of Consolation.” The Book of Isaiah, is perhaps the longest book in the Bible. It is comprised of sixty-six chapters divided into three sections, each written at different times in Israel’s history. During their time of exile in Babylon, Israel had two prophets in their midst. In the early days of the exile there was the prophet Ezekiel, in the late stage of exile there was Isaiah. Isaiah prophesied an almost unthinkable message of hope to the captive Israelites.
Many of Isaiah’s contemporaries were asking whether there was any source of comfort left for a people stripped of self-defense, vulnerable before their captors, bitter of soul as they mourned in a foreign land. But to a desolate, displaced and despairing people God says to Isaiah, “Comfort, give comfort to my people.”
When the prophets proclaimed a message of hope and comfort, they were engaging in something more than cheap promises and wishful thinking; they were drawing on their covenant relationship with God.
My friends, I can think of many places, many nations, cities and neighborhoods in our world, many hearts, that can uses Isaiah’s message of comfort; the spouse whose partner suddenly walks out, the person who looses a job when their company closes its doors, the family whose bank forecloses on their home. Isaiah’s words don’t bring about an immediate lift. But they do encourage us to have hope.
After speaking a word of comfort to the people Isaiah goes on to instruct Israel to prepare a way for God. Listen again to what he says: “ Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill shall be made low; the rugged land shall be made a plain, the rough country, a broad valley.” Isaiah uses the metaphor of road construction as a way of describing how one ought to prepare for God. He is not describing minor repairs, such as filling in potholes or refurbishing curbs. He is calling for major reconfiguration of the terrain.
The prophet directs our gaze to the spiritual terrain of our own lives; where are the “valleys” and empty places that need to be fill in? What are the winding roads that need to be made straight; the rough ways that need to be made smooth?
The gospel for today is the opening lines of the gospel of Mark, written around the year 70. As is frequently the case with classical texts, the opening line is quite revealing. Mark opens his gospel with these words: “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” We find a similar opening in John’s gospel, where the evangelist speaks about in the beginning was the word. Both Mark and John are using code language, harkening back to the first words of the Old Testament found in the Book of Genesis. By forging a link between Genesis and his gospel Mark is alerting us to the fact that the gospel is not just the story of a new teacher, a new prophet. It is much more. It is about Jesus Christ, who conquers chaos and restores the order of creation. It is essentially the story of humanity alienated from God because of sin but now being able to return home because of the obedience of Christ.
The opening of Mark’s gospel is abrupt with John the Baptist in the desert. John delivers his message not in the Temple or anywhere in Jerusalem, but on the banks of the Jordan, the place that was significant in the history of Israel’s journey to the Promised Land. Contemporaries of John would have associated the Jordan with the Exodus. By baptizing in the Jordan, symbolically calling people to pass through the waters of the Jordan, John was calling people to a new exodus, to conversion.
My friends, we can move easily through life and never really worry about what are my deepest loves, my most cherished values. The Baptist is that voice urging us to contemplate these things.
Mark tells us that John drew large crowds to the Jordan. Whatever it was about him, the Gospel tells us “all Judea and all the people of Jerusalem made their way to him.” John says to the crowds “One mightier than I is coming after me. I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals.” Despite the crowds that he drew, John was a humble man. At the high point of his popularity John directs the people away from himself to the One who is coming. He resisted the temptation to allow his own popularity to become the main concern of his message and ministry.
One of John’s greatest lessons is that his existence was not about him. His life served God’s purpose. One of the first steps in the spiritual life is to recognize that our lives are ultimately a gift and meant to serve God’s purposes. We live in a world where it is easy to become absorbed in our own lives; consumed by our agenda. John the Baptist is that voice saying pay attention to what God wants.
The task of both Isaiah and John the Baptist was to make ready the way of the Lord, to prepare the people for the coming of the long-awaited Messiah. We should see our own Christian vocation in light of theirs. God calls us to prepare the way of the Lord. Through our prayer, our deeds of goodness, our Christian witness, we clear a straight path for the Lord.
