1st Sunday of Advent, Year B; IC 2:3                                                               December 1, 2002

 

“Why do you let us wander from your ways, O Lord? Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down! But, you have hidden your face from us and delivered us up to our guilt.” [First reading from Mass]

 

This pleading from the lips of Isaiah echos the thoughts of many who long for God to display his might so that men might come to fear Him and thus desist from sin. The patience of the just God in the face of man’s innumerable crimes; the toleration of the holy God of so much human filth is a cause of wonder and puzzlement. Fear is so useful in curbing evil that we perhaps would like God to make more liberal use of some divine brawn to keep us in check. God’s rather sparing use of these methods of motivation has led many to presume upon God’s mercy and given them up to the tempting thought that they can sin with impunity. One of the psalms says this explicitly: “In the pride of his countenance the wicked does not seek God. He thinks in his heart, ‘God has forgotten, He has hidden His face, He will never see it.’ Why does the wicked say [to God] in His heart, ‘You will not call men to judgment?’” (Ps 10)

 

Our Lord gave the solution to this puzzle of God’s forbearance in the little parable about the farmer who allows weeds to grow along side the wheat in his field. Were he to pull up the weeds, he said, much wheat would also be uprooted and lost. No, wait until both mature and then, at harvest time, there will be the separation: the wheat preserved, the weeds burnt. God’s patience is meant for our good. He gives us time to repent and make amends. Is there anyone (the Blessed Mother aside) who has never sinned and can want  God to destroy sinners immediately? In that case, who would remain? “If you, O Lord, marked our guilt, who would stand?” asks the psalmist. And so we feel the tension between wanting God to punish sin so that we might all become better people and He less offended and, at the same time, we’re also glad that He’s so often held back his anger–at least from us!

 

Advent is one of my favorite liturgical times. It has the exciting air of anticipation. ‘The Lord is about to come! Let’s get things ready.’ Advent ought to get us moving, scurrying about in search of ways to get into good spiritual condition for Jesus’ second coming. The annual reminder of His coming at Christmas is supposed to keep us in a holy desire for His definitive coming at the end of time. And then.....won’t it be grand? Jesus will appear in all His majesty. Everyone will see Him and know Him. He will vindicate the good; He will punish the wicked, and eternity will commence for everyone. The only apprehension we have is the uncertainty of knowing on which side of the divide we shall be: among the sheep or the goats; with the wheat or with the weeds. And so Jesus admonishes us: “Be watchful! Be alert!” ‘Keep strict guard over your thoughts, your language, your actions. You will be examined, weighed, judged and then given your due.’

 

Yet Advent is not designed to infuse a spirit of fright into us. Quite the contrary, it’s meant to stir in us a holy longing for God. Restlessness and anxiety result from interior disturbances. The spiritual person is one who is at peace–a real peacefulness that’s not vain complacency but the fruit of the Holy Spirit. It is the passions that churn the human heart and cause so much restlessness: anger, hatred, lust, greed, vengeance, envy, and the like. One whose soul is in a state of grace should be at peace and should exert a calming influence on those who associate with him. How valuable is a soul at peace! Money can’t buy it (although much money is spent in search of it). A man with worries over his fortune, his future, his guilt, or the security of his loved ones can be tormented with sleeplessness, fidgeting, mental anguish, sadness, depression. All these are due to a lack of attention to one’s spiritual life. One surely can’t control all the external events of his life. Often these must be endured with resignation when they cannot be changed. But the peaceful man who has a deep spiritual life has found a way to meet the evils that confront him and yet remain interiorly secure. He has learnt through countless exercises of little, little instances of being patient, tolerant, prudent, chaste, moderate in eating and drinking, of holding his tongue, of controlling his thoughts, how to be at peace. This acquisition requires frequent self-examination of one’s faults and sins. Confession–not only of mortal sins that demand confession but also of the little sins that rob us of our tranquility–is a great way to master the disturbances that afflict our spirits. The Imitation of Christ reads: “There are some who are at peace with themselves and who try to guide others into peace. But all our peace in this present life should depend on humble forbearance rather than on an absence of adversity [comment: anyone can be peaceful when there are no problems]. He who knows the secret of endurance will enjoy the greatest peace. Such a one is a

 

conqueror of self, master of the world, a friend of Christ, and an heir of heaven.

 

Who would not want to gain all that is signified in those titles?

 

Being a devout Catholic is the way to serenity, peace and lasting joy. When the grace of God is in your soul, when your mind can ascend to holy things, when your desires are not fueled on cravings for lust, money, excitements of the world, and ambition, you are blest, you are at peace.

 

Advent is the season of spiritual readiness–so unlike what’s going on in the agitating shopping, advertising and shallow partying of the secular holidays. Please, keep a holy advent by expanding the room in your heart for the dwelling of Jesus there. There’s no one quite so happy, so secure, so peaceful as the one who lives fully the devout life.