A Sense of Urgency...
I've always appreciated the figure of John the Baptist. He's always been able to push me out of my comfort zone, to get me to look at myself. That was what was driving this homily:
2nd Sunday of Advent, 2006
I’ve always loved this particular gospel today, from the 3rd chapter of Luke. It follows immediately after the birth and childhood stories of Jesus, and it begins by situating us in history: the 15th year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar … when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea… and Herod the tetrarch of Galilee… in the high priesthood of Caiaphas and Annas – and then “The Word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the desert.”
Today we again encounter the Advent figure of John the Baptist, a man almost crazy with a passion. He’s a man with a mission and a message, a man driven with a compelling sense of urgency. The word of God came to him in the desert, and he proclaimed a baptism of repentance. Why? “The Kingdom of God is at hand.” He’s the voice crying out in the desert: “Reform your lives, prepare the way of the Lord.” He’s like an alarm bell going off.
However, I think it’s safe to say that most of us have a hard time feeling John’s sense of urgency. Probably the most urgent feeling most of us have this time of the year is to get everything checked off our Christmas list. That’s pretty natural, I guess, but I think the biggest reason we might have trouble feeling John’s sense of urgency is because his message is “Jesus is coming…now!” And I think that most of us hear that and say, “That’s right, Jesus came…then,” in the 15th year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar.
That reminds me of a story that I know I’ve told before, but I think it’s a good one. You know, not long ago, down in hell, there was a staff meeting called by Satan. And at the top of the agenda was what to do about the people of St. Bridget parish. In fact, a lot of familiar names came up in that meeting. It seems Satan wasn’t very happy about how things were going, and he was looking for some fresh ideas on how to throw things off track. And one of the devils said, “Well, let’s try the idea that there’s no God. No God. That will dull their sense of conscience because there’s no ultimate meaning.” And Satan said, “Well, that would work with some people, who might be prone to vanity, or a sense of intellectual superiority, but we really worked that idea pretty hard during the days of communism, and in the end it didn’t really work.” And a second devil said, “Well, we could try the idea that there’s no hell – No hell -- that God’s so perfectly loving and forgiving that they don’t really need to change their lives.” And Satan said, “Well, that will work with some people too, but those people at St. Bridget are smart enough to know the difference between right and wrong, and they know that there’s a difference between terrorists and people like Mother Teresa.” And finally, one sly devil said, “I’ve got it! Let’s just convince them … that there’s no hurry.” And Satan got this absolutely devilish look in his eyes… “Ah, no hurry!”
So this morning we hear John the Baptist speak with urgency: “Make ready the way of the Lord – clear a straight path!” And he prods us to examine what baggage we have gathered over the last year or years – what’s the clutter in our life that gets in the way, the stuff that distracts us, that breaks our concentration, that keeps us from focusing clearly on the Lord, that keeps us from making more time for God. John tells us to clear it out, make a straight path!
But then we hear this other voice inside… “Wow, there’s a lot of baggage in my life. House, property, job, bills, relationships, I should probably get things organized first, make a couple of lists. Meanwhile I’ve got so many other things I just have to do right now. I can’t take on everything at once… I can’t deal with all that right now… Besides, that can wait a little while -- there’s no hurry.
And John the Baptist urgently tells us, “Every valley shall be filled, every mountain and hill made low” – the valleys in our lives, where our souls are eroded by a lack of virtue: those kind words left unspoken, deeds of compassion left undone, bread not shared with the hungry, service to others withheld, prayers neglected, urgings of the Spirit ignored. Fill those low spots! And those mountains and hills – the obstacles of pride, or arrogance, or self-centeredness, or ambition … the mountains of our own ego – those mountains must give way to a quieter, truer, more humble way. Ah, but we all know that correcting our faults is embarrassing; and it’s hard work. And virtue, wow, that’s even harder.
Well, it’s a long range project. We’ll get to it. Most of us are pretty much OK anyway. There’s no hurry.
And John urgently says to make the winding road straight, and the rough ways smooth. John challenges us to look at the crooked paths inside of ourselves, the self-deceptions we live with, the rationalizations, the manipulative or conniving sides of ourselves that too often characterize how we relate to others…which leave us unprepared to welcome or even recognize the God of integrity and authenticity. John calls us to examine our rough sides of anger, impatience, intolerance, prejudice, favoritism – anything that causes frictions to arise, that alienate us one from another, that makes us unprepared to meet a Prince of Peace.
But none of us is perfect, right? We’re all products of our upbringing, or our environment. And you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, right? So what’s the hurry?
Our gospel today poses us this critical question: how do we hear the passionate voice of John the Baptist today, when he urgently tells us that our Lord is coming -- not then, two millennia ago, but now – in this day and age – in the year of the Lord 2006?
Well, that’s a good question. But it’s such a big question. Maybe we should all just… sleep on it.
2 Comments:
No hurry... That's very good, and it hits me right between the eyes, because I'm a chronic procrastinator.
Part of it is the nature of my work (although maybe I use that as an excuse). I'm tied to a pager 24 x 7, which makes civic engagement, charity work, other good works, etc.. difficult to commit to... I have processes that run all the time and I'm liable to be called at any time (and have been called at every hour of the clock). I've allowed my employer to have too much owenership over me. But again, maybe I'm making up excuses. I'll think about it more tomorrow. :-)
Most of the time that I write a homily, I live through it first. I think I understand procrastination; my version is too often doing what is urgent and immediate rather than what is important. There must be some kind of endorphin payoff for doing that.
Thanks for the note, Jeff.
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