Third Sunday of Advent 2013 Extraordinary Form
From the epistle of Blessed Paul the Apostle to the Philippians:
Brethren: Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. 5 Let all men know your forbearance. The Lord is at hand. 6 Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord.
A continuation of the Holy Gospel according to St. John:
this is the testimony of John, when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, “Who are you?” 20 He confessed, he did not deny, but confessed, “I am not the Christ.” 21 And they asked him, “What then? Are you Elijah?” He said, “I am not.” “Are you the prophet?” And he answered, “No.” 22 They said to him then, “Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?” 23 He said, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘Make straight the way of the Lord,’ as the prophet Isaiah said.”
24 Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. 25 They asked him, “Then why are you baptizing, if you are neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?” 26 John answered them, “I baptize with water; but among you stands one whom you do not know, 27 even he who comes after me, the thong of whose sandal I am not worthy to untie.” 28 This took place in Bethany beyond the Jordan, where John was baptizing.
+In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.
Listen, if you would, to the first words of today’s Introit:
“Rejoice in the Lord always; I say it again, rejoice!” The words, lifted verbatim from Paul’s epistle, give the name of this Sunday–Gaudete Sunday. In the days before the almost fifty-year-old liturgical calendar change, my parents’ physical reason to rejoice was that two weeks of the Advent fast were complete, and after the fast of the ember days during this week, the feast of Christmas was just ten days or so away. Today we might be looking forward equally to relief from the interminable playing of so-called holiday music that completely ignores the real meaning of the Incarnation. Still, it might be wise to reflect more deeply on the meaning of St. Paul’s exhortation in the light of the Gospel, and of the feast we just celebrated of Mary, the Virgin of Guadalupe.
A cynic might hear Paul’s encouragement to “rejoice always” and respond, “just why should I rejoice?” There are reasons in every age to think St. Paul to be irretrievably naive. Today we think of the flood-borne suffering of the people of the Philippines, or the war-weary people of Afghanistan, Iraq, Egypt, and especially Syria. We consider the persecution being suffered by Catholics and other Christians there, and in Indonesia and China, and even our own government’s attempt to mandate immoral poisons and procedures under the guise of “health care.” Is St. Paul mad? Why on earth would we rejoice about that?
Saint John’s Gospel today gives us an answer, when he writes about the testimony of John the Baptist. Now St. John was not a “baptist.” He was an authentic Hebrew in the mode of Abraham and David and Isaiah. He was witnessing to the Jewish sectarians of his day that they had it all wrong about their relationship to God. The Pharisees thought that keeping the letter of the Law made them pleasing to God, that the length of their tassels and tithes on their herbs were what mattered. The Sadducees believed that success in this life measured their devotion to God, and they were willing to collaborate with the Romans and defraud widows to get that success. The Zealots swung to the other side–they plotted to kill all the Romans and restore Jewish rule of the known world, and counted on God to send his angelic armies and the rest of the Empire to rise up to join them. John and Jesus knew otherwise. Only a change of heart and immersion in the will of the Father could bring about real justice and progress in the world. Societies don’t change without metanoia in the individual. Brute force cannot bring about a restoration of righteousness, because violence only begets more violence. Our paths are too crooked to save the world; our minds and hearts are too weak. The problem is in here [beat the breast], so the solution is interior revolution, and that, as John wrote, requires that my heart and yours be baptized, soaked–literally marinated–in the grace and truth of Jesus Christ. So John saw rightly his mission–to make straight our paths in preparation for the coming of the Messiah. When the Christ rules, he rules well because our hearts are predisposed to obey the will of the Father.
St. Paul’s exhortation makes even more sense when we look at his next admonition, which we should translate “let your forbearance be obvious to all humankind.” The Greek word is epieikes, which is a word overflowing with meaning. The Latin says modestia, but that’s not what we mean by “modesty.” It is an attribute assigned most often in the OT to God, and it seems to be connected to God’s hesed and ‘emet, his loving-kindness and faithfulness. The word implies that God holds back punishment from people when they act like jerks. It also means that God gives good things to those who don’t really deserve them, just because He loves them. That’s Paul’s whole history. He admits on many occasions that he is a sinner, and often reminds his churches that he was even a persecutor of the Church. But he knows how long God put up with him, and how relentlessly the Father poured his actual grace on him, until he was ready to have the vision on the road to Damascus and believe in the One he had been persecuting. So Paul recommends to his churches, and to us, that we practice the same forbearance, the same epieikes, the same modestia that God exercises with us.
So why do we have no anxiety? Because, if we are forbearing, as the Father was, as Jesus was who could have called down millions of angels to smite the Sadducees, and Romans, and Pharisees and Zealots, but preferred to suffer and die for them so their hearts would be changed, if we practice patience and long-suffering and are kind even to those who are rude to us, then God’s peace will rule in our hearts. That is attractive, even on a merely natural level. We have no anxiety because the Lord is near. The great saints taught the prayer of the presence of God. We should begin every time of prayer with an act of faith in the presence of God. The Father is more present to you than you are to yourself.
There is one remaining problem with St. Paul’s counsel to rejoice in the Lord always. That’s the problem of pain, of suffering. You see, we confuse joy with pleasure. Since pain is the opposite of pleasure, we think pain must banish joy from our lives. But if we are constantly conscious of the presence of the Father, of the immanence of Jesus Christ in our hearts, and if our hearts and minds are in Christ Jesus at all times, then joy can never be far from us. Our joy is a fruit of the Holy Ghost, given to us in Baptism, confirmed in us with the holy chrism, and renewed in us every time we take Christ in Holy Communion. When we were little, and we had some kind of accident that made a bruise, or drew blood, or broke a bone, it was the presence of a mom or dad that made all the difference in our response. A hug and kiss from our parents really does make it all better, doesn’t it? That’s why the nearness of Jesus Christ is the biggest reason to rejoice always, especially when we are suffering. We are closest to Jesus, and most conformed with Him, when in our pain we unite our prayer with His–forgive them, for they know not what they do.
So as we enter this third week of our preparation, when we will daily hear the “O” antiphons that speak of the many titles of Christ, let’s be constantly aware of His nearness. Let’s change our speech to reflect our joy. When asked how we are, let’s say “expectant,” or “grateful,” or even “rejoicing.” Let’s forgive others their rudeness, even before they ask us to. Let’s practice the forbearance of God. If we do, then we will show that we are baptized, soaked with Christ, and the peace of God, which surpasses all merely human understanding, will fill our hearts and minds and countenance with a joy that no sorrow can erase.
+In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.
