A Spiritual Reflection for the Third Sunday of Advent

THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Is 61:1f,10f -- 1 Th 5:16-24 -- Jn 1:6-8,19-28

Joy: What It Means, Where You Look for It, and How You Get It
By Harold A. Buetow, PhD, JD

Thinking people have over the ages tried to plumb the meaning of joy, where to look for it, and how to get it. Some have observed that joy is most intense in the years of childhood, and that some sights from the years of youth – a meadow, a house once lived in, a familiar face – can resurrect the joy of youth. Others have said that the deep power of joy can enable us to see into the true life of things. Some have contrasted the whole-hearted joy of the poor with the relatively stiff joy of the rich. The more religious-minded have said that the spelling of JOY reminds us that “Jesus” is first, “you” are last, and “others” are in-between. One religious-minded person, Abbot Marmion, described joy as “the echo of God’s life within us.”

The life of John the Baptist, despite his sacrifices and hardships, was full of joy – if you define joy as the state of bliss over having or expecting something or someone that you love. In today’s Gospel, the Evangelist introduces the Baptist with a contrast between the temporality of creation and the eternity of the Word: A man named John was sent from God (v. 6). And, while we call John “the Baptist,” or “the baptizer,” “the immerser,” “the dipper, or “the plunger,” he might with equal accuracy be called “the witness”: The Gospel says that he came to testify (v. 7). The Evangelist puts forth witness after witness to the truth of the claims of Jesus: God the Father; the Holy Spirit; Jesus’ own words; his works; the Jewish prophecies; people with whom Jesus came in contact such as the Samaritan woman, the lepers, and the man born blind; the crowds; the disciples; and -- now – John the Baptist.

Today’s Gospel tells of the Baptist’s witness when the Jews sent to ask his identity (v. 19). It was a time when some of the Baptist’s followers weren’t becoming Christians because they were disillusioned over Jesus’ not showing all the spectacular “signs” they expected of the Messiah. John’s unconverted followers were spread throughout the whole Mediterranean world. St. Paul encountered them, still unconverted to Jesus, at Ephesus and in Asia Minor (see Ac 18:24-19:4); followers of John were also in Alexandria, Egypt. John, however, still maintained his faith and his hope; from these came joy.

The first question of the religious authorities from Jerusalem was direct: “Who are you?” (v. 19). It’s a question, perhaps unspoken, which is continually asked of us by others – and, hopefully, by ourselves too. All their questions pertained to some of the persons expected to return when the Messiah would come. John answered forthrightly, first with a negative definition of himself. Because they were expecting the Messiah, John answered that he wasn’t he; because they were awaiting the prophet Elijah who had been taken up to heaven and was expected to return to prepare the way of the Lord, John said he wasn’t he, either; nor was he a prophet like Moses, expectations of whose return were also current in several circles. We, too, need to say who we’re not -- to have a healthy sense that we aren’t defined by the expectations of others, nor by our job, nor even by our family.

More positively, John quoted a text (Is 40:3) that every one of the Gospels uses about him: that he was the voice of one crying out in the desert, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord’ (v. 23). The roads of the time weren’t paved, or even surfaced, unless a King or a conqueror was about to make a journey. Then, repairmen would straighten the roads over which the Great One’s litter would be carried. John’s answer was startling, unique, and beautiful. Our positive self-definition should, like the Baptist’s, also give expression to our singularity, our creativity, and our beauty.

The Pharisees’ emissaries weren’t satisfied with the Baptist’s answers, and asked about his authority: Why then do you baptize? (v. 25). It was a proper question. The Baptist was making Jews who already embraced the faith do what only unbelievers who were just coming into the Jewish faith had had to do: wash to be clean enough to be one of God’s people. John pointed to Christ, the one among them whom they don’t recognize (v. 26) – a remark that applies to our generation as well. John humbly observed that he wasn’t worthy to untie this one’s sandal-strap (v. 27). The unfastening of a master’s sandals was a slave’s work; the rabbis had a saying that a disciple could do anything for his master but unfasten his sandals, because that job was simply too lowly.

Today, though, John was fulfilling the words of Isaiah in today’s First Reading. This last part of Isaiah began with the prophet’s uplifting reference to his having been anointed with the spirit of the Lord God (61:1f.). This language always signals a monumental work of God, beginning with the very first verses of Genesis, when God created the heavens and the earth from the formless waste and the Spirit of God brooded over the waters. Here, God’s mighty work is to bring glad tidings, to heal, and to proclaim liberty. The last is similar to the words from Leviticus (25:10) inscribed in the Liberty Bell in Independence Hall, Philadelphia: “Proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof.”

The basic idea is the total salvation of God’s people: bodily and spiritual, individual and social. That’s the meaning of the year of favor and the day of vindication (v. 2), a reference to the “Jubilee Year” (Lv 25:8-22) when offenses were forgiven and the people rejoiced. Isaiah wanted his dispirited people to realize that, despite the hardships, cares, and worries of this crucial time, it was truly a “jubilee Year”: The people had been freed from their captivity and were under God’s own care.

When in the second part of this passage we hear the voice of the people, we understand that the first recipients of the message are the little folk – those who rely on God because they have so few resources of their own (vv. 10f.) They sing a song of joy for salvation; they see salvation as being as ecstatic as a bride at the approach of her bridegroom, a fond image. These lines have caught the joyous spirit of those Jewish feasts on which pious men dance and sing. Closely resembling this song is the song of the Blessed Virgin Mary when the angel presented her with the news that she was to become the mother of God (Lk 1:46-55, today’s Responsorial Psalm). Among other things, the song joyfully celebrates the wonder of salvation. Yet Jesus didn’t heal all ills or right all wrongs; he didn’t intend to. Hence his non-acceptance by many who expected a messiah who would.

Today’s portion of Isaiah is the passage that Jesus chose when he gave his first sermon in his home-town synagogue at Nazareth. On that occasion, after Jesus read this passage, he rolled up the scroll, sat down, and proclaimed that the passage was being fulfilled in the hearing of his audience – by him!

St. Paul, at the end of his first letter to the Thessalonians which is today’s Second Reading, reminds disgruntled worry-warts – and all Christians – that we’re to be joyous. Like the Thessalonians who were discouraged because of the delay in the Lord’s Second Coming, we can find reasons to find the glass of live half-empty. But Christianity is a way of life in joy: not a passive wait for Christ’s coming, but an active participation in life. Paul emphasizes three pieces of good advice that summarize the Christian life: rejoice, pray, and render thanks. As in Paul’s life, so now and always joy is the infallible sign of Christ’s presence. St. Augustine said that “the Christian should be an alleluia from head to foot,” and St. John of the Cross that “the soul of one who serves God always swims in joy, always keeps holiday, and is always in the mood for singing.”

Because this isn’t easy, we should pray without ceasing (v. 17), an exercise Paul amply demonstrates in this letter – especially in his final words in today’s reading (vv. 23f.). These words stand by themselves as a perfect prayer as well as a perfect blessing for Advent. And we should in all circumstances give thanks (v. 18). Paul’s “thank you notes” appear in this and almost every other letter he wrote. Even on the darkest days, there’s always something to be thankful for, if we but reflect.

And reflect we must. Inspired by the questions to John the Baptist, we can reflect, for one thing, on what sort of God we worship. Is he an insurance agent (“I’ll do this just in case”); a referee (“Mustn’t break any of God’s rules”); an accountant (“Have to have the books balanced”)? Or do I really live out of the vision and attitude of a God of love revealed as such by Jesus Christ, whose birth we’re preparing to celebrate?

Let’s take home with us the message that we, like John the Baptist and many others in the Gospels, must be joy-filled witnesses to Jesus. In these days, that often takes courage. It also requires that we be rays of sunshine to a sometimes dark world.