Late Advent Weekday — December 17
Genesis 49:2,8-10  +  Matthew 1:1-17
December 17, 2021

The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.

It’s obvious that today’s date—December 17^th—begins the final week of Advent.  One week from today the Church will stand at the threshold of Christmastide.  What’s not so obvious is that the Church approaches this final week of Advent differently than the season’s first few weeks.  Beginning on December 17^th, the Gospel Readings at weekday Mass shift from scenes set during Jesus’ adulthood to scenes set before His birth.

Today’s Gospel Reading is the first seventeen verses of St. Matthew’s Gospel account.  The very first verse tells us what this passage is all about:  “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham.”  This genealogy of Jesus is different than the one recorded by St. Luke the Evangelist in Luke 3:23-38.  St. Matthew’s account of Jesus’ genealogy goes back in history only to Abraham, while St. Luke’s traces Jesus’ lineage back to Adam himself.

Nonetheless, the figures of David and Abraham help us understand the structure of the genealogy that St. Matthew records.  Today consider just the latter of these two persons.  The genealogy has three parts.  Abraham and Jesus stand at either end, revealing the most important truth of this genealogical record:  that Jesus fulfills what Abraham, “our father in faith”, could only foreshadow.  The shadows of the Old Testament are now giving way to the light of Him who soon will be born.

The Fourth Sunday of Advent [C]
Micah 5:1-4  +  Hebrews 10:5-10  +  Luke 1:39-45

“‘… behold, I come to do your will, O God.’”

Sacrifice has long been the heart of religion.  From pagan religions to the religion of the Old Testament to the religion of Jesus Christ, sacrifice stands front and center.

However, the object of sacrifice has differed greatly from one religion to another.  That is to say, that which has been sacrificed to God has differed greatly from one religion to another.

At one end of the spectrum, the most horrific example of religious sacrifice is the ritual sacrifice of innocent human beings in an attempt to appease wrathful pagan gods.  Other pagan religions made sacrificial offerings without violence.  They offered sacrifices of material objects that were important to their livelihood.  They sacrificed objects such as animals or grains that might instead have been needed to feed their families.

In this latter type of religious sacrifice, then, there would be a two-fold sacrifice.  First, the object was destroyed through its being offered as a religious sacrifice to God.  Consequently, that ritual sacrifice meant that the person sacrificing had to endure a sacrifice of well-being—a personal sacrifice—since he could not use the sacrificed object for his own need and comfort.

The Old Testament, in contrast to pagan religious sacrifices, bears witness to sacrifices ordered and directed by the Lord God Himself, often also demanding personal sacrifice.  In the Book of Leviticus, for example, the Lord gives lengthy, detailed instructions about both the objects to be sacrificed to Him, and the manner in which each sacrifice is to be made.

In addition to the sacrifices offered ritually by Israel’s priests, other members of Israel made religious sacrifices.  One example is Joseph and Mary, shortly after Jesus’ birth, travelling to the Temple where they make a sacrifice of two turtledoves [Lk 2:24].

That example evokes two other types of sacrifice that God often called for in the course of the Old Testament.  These are not ritual sacrifices, but are deeply personal sacrifices.  The first occurred when God called an individual to take a “leap of faith”, such as Abram leaving his settled life in Haran for an unknown land [Gn 12:1-4], or Moses leading the People of Israel forth from the Red Sea into the desert for a long, perilous journey [Ex 15:22].  The second occurred when God called an individual to confrontation against great odds, such as Moses confronting the Pharaoh [Ex 3:10-15], or the youthful David confronting Goliath [1 Sam 17:32-37].

This background of Old Testament sacrifices—ritual and personal—stands behind the Gospel Reading for this last Sunday of Advent.  The passage focuses upon part of the Joyful Mystery of the Visitation.  The latter half of this passage consists of Elizabeth, “filled with the Holy Spirit,” speaking about Mary.

The Blessed Virgin Mary reveals two dimensions of Christian sacrifice.  First, what is the object of Mary’s sacrifice?  She sacrifices her very self, not another person or an inanimate object or animal.  Mary’s life becomes a literal “holocaust”:  that is, a sacrificial offering entirely consumed by the will of the Lord, according to His Word.

This complete self-offering demands from her a “leap of faith” into an unknown future.  Furthermore, that future will demand that Mary confront the fullness of evil, as foretold in the first book of the Bible after the fall of Adam and Eve, where the Lord speaks of her crushing the serpent [Gn 3:15], and as described in mystical terms in the last book of the Bible [Rev 12].

Nonetheless, all the gifts of Mary’s life—from her Immaculate Conception to her Coronation—and all that Mary herself accomplishes through her vocation are rooted in a second, more fundamental dimension of Christian sacrifice.

Not only does Mary offer her whole self in sacrifice.  She bears Christ within her very self.  It is Christ within that makes self-sacrifice—according to the will and Word of God—possible.

Consequently, through her self-offering, Mary offers the sacrifice of the Word made Flesh to God the Father.  She bears Jesus so that she might offer Him as the object of her own self-sacrifice.

Yet despite the greatness of her vocation, Mary does not stand on a pedestal at a remove from you and me.  She is the model for each of us who works at following Jesus.  What Mary bore physically, each disciple bears through grace, most especially through the Eucharist.  Each disciple sacramentally bears the Body of Christ within, to make possible the complete offering of one’s whole self to the will and Word of God.

Thursday of the Third Week of Advent
Isaiah 54:1-10  +  Luke 7:24-30
December 16, 2021

“‘Behold, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, he will prepare your way before you.’”

Jesus in today’s Gospel Reading quotes two Old Testament verses:  Malachi 3:1 and Isaiah 40:3.  Together, these two verses illustrate Jesus’ image of John the Baptist.  They help us understand how John the Baptist stands in relation to Jesus.  John goes first, but only to prepare the way that leads to Jesus.

As the first half of Advent concludes tomorrow, Jesus’ quotation in today’s Gospel Reading brings up an important principle of our Catholic Faith.  We need to keep this principle in mind as enter tomorrow into the second, more intense half of Advent.  That principle is intercession.

Many of our separated brethren dismiss the principle of others interceding between “me and Jesus”.  Protestant leaders had statues and paintings of saints destroyed because they suggested that certain persons might be important in the process of bringing us to Jesus.  The dismissal of the role of saints went hand-in-hand with the dismissal of the ordained priesthood, another important means by which human persons intercede for us in bringing us closer to Jesus.

So as the first half of Advent ends today—and with it, its focus upon St. John the Baptist—we ought to reflect on two points.  First, what do I need to learn from St. John the Baptist, and how can he lead me to Jesus?  Second, how can I imitate St. John the Baptist and lead others to Jesus by my own words and sacrifices?

Wednesday of the Third Week of Advent
Isaiah 45:6-8,18,21-25  +  Luke 7:18-23
December 15, 2021

“In the Lord shall be the vindication and the glory of all the descendants of Israel.”

Confusion sometimes arises from the question that John the Baptist in today’s Gospel Reading instructs his disciples to ask Jesus.  People wonder:  “Doesn’t this question—‘Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?’—suggest that John the Baptist wasn’t really familiar with his cousin Jesus, and was even uncertain about the role of Jesus in the Lord God’s plan for Israel?”  The answer, of course, is “No.”  But why then does John instruct his disciples to ask this question?

By way of answering, we might point out that John isn’t sending his disciples for his own sake, but for theirs.  John wants each of them to encounter Jesus and hear Jesus’ answer to the question as a sort of initiation into a relationship with Jesus.

However, one might in response ask a further question.  “Why, then, did Jesus answer the disciples’ question by saying, ‘Go and tell John what you have seen and heard ….’?”  The fact is that these disciples need for the time being to remain under the instruction of John the Baptist.

Jesus does not say to these disciples what He said to Peter and Andrew:  “Come, follow me.”  These disciples, like us during Advent, need to sit at the feet of John the Baptist and allow his message to sink more deeply into our hearts before we can be true disciples of the Lord Jesus.

St. John of the Cross, Priest & Doctor of the Church
Zephaniah 3:1-2,9-13  +  Matthew 21:28-32
December 14, 2021

“Which of the two did his father’s will?”

Like the one proclaimed on Thursday of the First Week of Advent [Mt 7:21,24-27], today’s Gospel Reading from the twenty-first chapter of Matthew focuses upon good works.  Both of these passages contrast mere words with resolute works.  Yet there’s a further similarity that’s even more important.

In the passage from Matthew 7, Jesus insists that for one to enter Heaven, one must do the will of God the Father.  In today’s Gospel Reading, Jesus proclaims a parable at whose center is a father with two sons.  The human father in this parable is a symbol of God the Father.

This focus of God the Father can help you see that it’s not your own human will that’s key in your life.  The key is the will of God the Father.  This is the same Father who within salvation history loved His erring children—those resembling the first son in today’s parable—enough to send His only divine Son to die for them.  The Father “willed” that His Only-Begotten, the one who in all things does His Father’s will—even on Calvary—sacrificed His life for the sinful son, who is you and me.

Monday of the Third Week of Advent
Numbers 24:2-7,15-17  +  Matthew 21:23-27

He guides the humble to justice, / he teaches the humble his way.

Humility is not a virtue with much currency in the modern world.  The modern world would be more likely to consider humility a vice or stumbling block to virtue.  The modern world’s key principle is what Nietzsche called the “will to power”.

Yet the Gospel from beginning to end is a way marked by humility.  We might say that humility is in fact each step along this way.  This is why St. Thérèse called the living of the Gospel the “Little Way”.

This little way begins with St. John the Baptist, who in different ways appears at the start of each of the four Gospel accounts.  This way leads to Mount Calvary and the Via Dolorosa.  There we learn that the Cross is the Lord’s will to power.  Let’s listen to St. John the Baptist’s message since he teaches us the first steps along His way.

Saturday of the Second Week of Advent
Sirach 48:1-4,9-11  +  Matthew 17:9,10-13
December 11, 2021

Then the disciples understood that He was speaking to them of John the Baptist.

Both the First Reading and the Gospel Reading of this morning’s Mass speak of the Old Testament prophet Elijah.  His importance in the Old Testament is highlighted by the fact that he (along with Moses) appears with Jesus at the Transfiguration.

There are eighteen prophetic books in the Old Testament.  Yet Elijah’s importance is highlighted by the fact that he’s also mentioned within the Wisdom literature of the Old Testament:  in the case of this morning’s First Reading, in the Book of Sirach.  In this passage, Elijah is brought to our attention not only because he has a prophecy for us to attend to, and not only because at the end of his earthly life he ascended to Heaven in a flaming chariot.  Such is the holiness of Elijah that the person is “blessed” who “shall have seen [him] and who falls asleep in [his] friendship.”

In the Gospel Reading, however, Jesus mysteriously identifies St. John the Baptist with Elijah.  While Jesus does not elaborate upon this identification, we know that Elijah and St. John the Baptist are both ultimately important for the same reason:  because they foreshadow the advent of the Messiah.  As we reflect upon the prophetic ministry of Elijah, we ask the Lord to allow Elijah’s words and deeds to motivate us to accept Christ when He comes.

Friday of the Second Week of Advent
Isaiah 48:17-19  +  Matthew 11:16-19
December 10, 2021

“But wisdom is vindicated by her works.”

There are many points that one might conclude from Jesus’ enigmatic statement that “wisdom is vindicated by her works.”  Consider one point about wisdom, and another about wisdom’s works.

Wisdom can be considered from the perspective of God’s own nature, or in terms of what God freely chooses to do in salvation history.  In the Catholic tradition, this consideration would be referred to in terms of the “immanent Trinity” and the “economic Trinity”.

What Jesus declares in today’s Gospel Reading ought to be considered in terms of God’s work of salvation history:  creation, redemption, and sanctification.  This is especially so in terms of wisdom being “vindicated”.  The masterpiece of Saint Augustine of Hippo, The City of God, explores the vagaries of salvation history, which often seems to hold more troughs than peaks; more sin than grace; and more sinners than saints.

When it comes to salvation history, God certainly plays a “long game”.  This ought to comfort those of us who waste so many years of our lives following our own interests rather than God’s.  Saint Augustine explored this sad dynamic in his own life in another of his masterpieces, The Confessions.  Fortunately for each of us, God loves us more than we love ourselves, and in Jesus is willing to make our sins His own so that His wisdom might prevail over our folly.

The Conversion of St. Augustine of Hippo by Fra Angelico

The Third Sunday of Advent [C]
Zephaniah 3:14-18  +  Philippians 4:4-7  +  Luke 3:10-18

“Now the people were filled with expectation, and all were asking in their hearts whether John might be the Christ.”

If there’s one word that sums up the Lord’s coming—both 2000 years ago as He came to Mary, and this year as He wishes to come to you—that one word would likely be “expectation”.  The word “expectation” connotes both waiting and hopefulness.  As an example, think of children during December who write out their wish lists with the expectation of a visit from Saint Nicholas.  However, in English the word “expecting” is also related to the experience of pregnancy, which of course in the person of Mary lies at the heart of Advent.

Yet in today’s Gospel passage, there’s a heightened sense of expectation.  Think of children at the beginning of December expecting St. Nicholas’ visit, and then think of those same children on Christmas Eve, with their expectation brimming over.  The latter is the sense of expectation that the evangelist evokes in today’s Gospel passage, telling us that “the people” were not just in expectation of “the Christ”, but in fact “were filled with expectation”.

Then, however, the other shoe drops.  The evangelist explains that the people “were asking in their hearts whether John [the Baptist] might be the Christ.”  This is bittersweet, since we know that the expectation of the people is misplaced.

Here, though, is a spiritual lesson for us.  The evangelist wants us to profit from the mistake of those who mistook John for the Christ.  Even though you and I know that John the Baptist was not the Christ that the people in today’s Gospel passage were hoping for, we’re not off the hook.

More often than we like to admit, we act like the people in today’s Gospel passage.  We look for Christ in all the wrong places.  Furthermore, without an authentic encounter with Christ, we end up looking for happiness in all the wrong places.

Consider some of the wrong-headed ways that fallen human beings look for happiness in life.  St. Thomas Aquinas, in his summary of theology, explores the more common ways that man falsely seeks lasting happiness in this world.  He names eight, the first four of which are specific goods:  wealth, honor, fame, and power.  While each of these certainly can be good, and can be stepping stones to true happiness, it’s vain to search for lasting happiness in things such as wealth, honor, fame, and power.

Here’s another way to contrast the difference between authentic and false sources of happiness.  All you have to do is reflect on your pet dog Fido.  Fido has some base understanding of the value of food and drink and shelter.  Fido might also appreciate a vehicle:  not only because it saves him from getting tired, but also because he loves to stick his head out the window into the breeze.  It’s true that Fido might have a harder time understanding the value of clothing, although if you took him with you on vacation to Alaska in January, he probably would appreciate that doggie sweater that you got him for Christmas.

But Fido cannot understand coins or bills or stock certificates having any value.  He would only understand that there’s value in the food or whatever else you purchase with money.  Fido is more sane than fallen man.  Maybe that’s why the dog is man’s best friend:  because he keeps us grounded in what is real.

Fido can keep us from looking up at what we should look down upon.  Unfortunately, Fido cannot help us look up to what we ought to look up at.  Fido can help us from having false gods, but he cannot help us find the true God.

In the end, just like Johnny Lee, fallen man spends a lot of time looking for love in all the wrong places, and in too many faces.  There’s only one Face in which fallen man can find abiding happiness, and that’s in the Divine Face of Jesus.

Picture Mary after she gives birth to Jesus.  She looks at the Face of her newborn Son.  As she looks at Him, Mary knows what is truly important in life.  She encounters Jesus as she gazes at Him, and commits herself to Him.  That’s the sort of focus and priority that each of us can strengthen inside our hearts, minds, and souls by celebrating the rest of Advent and Christmastide with joy and faith.