“Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice. The Lord is near.”
This antiphon, which every year opens the liturgy of the Third Sunday of Advent, gives it a particular character. It is like a backdrop on which are superimposed different elements of the celebration, or a musical theme developed with variations from year to year. This day has been called “Gaudete Sunday” after the Latin ‘gaudere,’ to rejoice. And “rejoice” is a term that suits it well. The mention of joy is found in the opening prayer and also in the communion antiphon. “Rejoice in the Lord always, I say it again. Rejoice!” It is common to say that one rejoices because of a person — for what he or she brings or for what happens to him or her — or that one shares in another’s joy. But “in the Lord” is a common turn of phrase in the writings of Saint Paul of great theological importance, it implies union with Christ, the source of all that is evoked — in this instance joy. It means moreover that joy cannot be held in check by anything, by any exterior tribulation. Paul writes in his letter to the Romans (8:38-39) “For I am quite certain that neither death nor life, neither angels nor principalities, neither the present nor the future, nor powers, neither height nor depth nor any other creature, will be able to separate us from the love of God that comes to us in Christ Jesus, our Lord.”
Today, once again, at the beginning of the Liturgy of the Word we hear a text from the Book of Isaiah. The prophecy read last Sunday announced a marvellous future of justice and peace: on that day when “a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom.” “On that day, the root of Jesse, set up as a signal for the nations; the Gentiles shall seek out, for his dwelling shall be glorious.” That “day” has already dawned, declares a disciple of Isaiah. Sadness gives way to joy, even in nature, which is one with the fate of humanity. The bold image of the desert that again flourishes and is covered with great trees — the fabled Cedars of Lebanon — is easily envisioned by everyone. But particularly by the chosen people for it is through the past experience of the desert that the people came to a covenant with God, where they were given the Law that made them the people of God. Consequently, the desert evokes not so much the sufferings borne during the Exodus but rather, intimacy with God. No wonder, the verbs “rejoice,” “exalt,” “cry out for joy” derive from the liturgical vocabulary. The prophet sees the scene as a liturgical celebration, with desert roads lined with freed captives, and voices united in songs of praise. The blind see, the deaf hear, the lame leap like deer, the mute cry out with joy — God himself comes to save.
The desert flourishes, the arid earth becomes a verdant forest. This change is brought about before our very eyes. But we must determine its meaning and allow time for it to develop. Christian faith, assured of the return of the Lord — “His coming is at hand” and ”the judge stands at the gate” — is essentially related to patience. The word occurs four times in the four verses of the Letter of James read this Sunday. The image of the farmer is eloquent. They do nothing to hasten growth. “See how [the farmer] awaits the precious yield of the soil.” Everything comes in its season. But make no mistake: if patience is a human virtue, a healthy attitude, in regard to the coming of the Lord, it becomes an authentically Christian virtue, a component of faith that is characterised by steadfastness.
Similarly, the peace that flows from it is not just peace of mind, or a matter of temperament. It is rather based on faith, which shuns all spitefulness, grumbling, and turmoil in time of distress. It is an imitation of God himself, patient and slow to anger. It is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, of grace, and a mark of a true Christian. “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, faith, mildness, and chastity.” “Because you are God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with heartfelt mercy, with kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.”
(Col 3:12) The disciples of Jesus hold fast: they wait in patience, like fruit ripening for the final harvest at the coming of their Lord. Waiting for harvest time puts patience to the test. What is worse, however, is the temptation to reject whatever comes because it doesn’t correspond to one’s idea of what was anticipated. It seems that John the Baptist knew this, but at least he had the wisdom to doubt his own judgement and not get caught up with the problem; as once again we see him enter centre stage. Preaching conversion, “for the kingdom of heaven is near,” he exhorted the people to “flee the wrath that comes.” He already saw the axe “at the base of the trees” that do not produce good fruits and which will soon be “cut down and thrown into the fire.” He described the one “greater” than he “pointed to the Lamb of God” he says he is holding “the winnowing fork in his hand,” preparing to “clear the threshing floor,” and burn the straw “in unquenchable fire.”
Arrested, and imprisoned for reproaching Herod for living with his brother’s wife: news came to John of the preaching and the works of Jesus. Was he perhaps confused by the attitude of the one he had baptised? Did he now doubt his own judgement? We do not know. Whatever the case, he sent his disciples to ask Jesus: “Are you the one who is to come or do we look for another?” The reply forces John again to judge for himself. He knows enough Scripture to recognise the references to the prophecies of Isaiah: “The blind recover their sight, cripples walk, lepers are cured, the deaf hear, dead men are raised to life” and above all “the poor have the good news preached to them.” Can we suppose that John sang his Nunc dimittis when his emissary came back with Jesus’ reply? Jesus’ praise of the precursor allows us to understand that, in fact, the Baptist knew well the meaning of the message, and that he died undoubtedly believing in the one whom he had announced.
While John’s envoys return, Jesus speaks to the multitude about John the precursor. His words must be understood — in the Christian context — of John the Baptist’s relation to Jesus.
The characteristic traits of John the Baptist are emphasised from the beginning. In the first place there is his unshakable firmness. He showed nothing, in fact, of the appearance of a reed bending in the wind, he who bent before no-one. He was like Jeremiah, of whom the Lord said: “be not crushed on their account…. For it is I this day who have made you a fortified city, a pillar of iron, a wall of brass, against the whole land; Against Judah’s kings and princes, against its priests and people.” (Jer 1:17-18) At the same time, this prophet of the desert, clad in camels’ hair with a leather belt around his waist, was extremely austere in his living habits. Even in his manner of dress he recalls Elijah, who wore “a hairy garment, with a leather girdle about his loins.” (2 Kings 1:8) Without a doubt he was a prophet “more than a prophet.” No wonder the multitudes wondered if he was the Messiah. To look further at John’s mission, we must consider ”what is written.” — In the Book of Malachi — “Lo, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me.” When this prophecy comes from Jesus’ lips, “before me” it becomes “before you.” The change in itself is minimal but is loaded with meaning. The word “you” for us Christians, points to Jesus himself. Consequently, what Malachi announced about the coming of the “Lord God” is taken by Christians as referring to the earthly coming of Jesus. To recognise John the Baptist as the precursor of whom Malachi spoke is to recognise Jesus as the Lord in whom dwells the glory and power of God himself. On closer examination, we find another teaching. The mission of John, and of saints in general — of all precursors — of the Church, of each Christian, is not to focus attention on themselves, but to direct it to the Lord whose witnesses they are — each according to his or her vocation — in the midst of humanity.
“I tell you solemnly, of all the children born of women, a greater than John the Baptist has never been seen; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he is.”
One should be in no doubt, for our Lord has told us, John is great, the greatest among all earthly existence. But what significance does this man’s greatness have, a man blessed with charisma and other spiritual gifts, in view of the kingdom of heaven? When the seventy-two who were returning from their mission told Jesus that “even the demons are subject to us in your name,” Jesus shares in their joy by saying: “I watched Satan fall from the sky like lightening.” But he adds: “Nevertheless, do not rejoice so much in the fact that the devils are subject to you rejoice rather that your names are written in heaven.” Let us admire John, yes, but above all let us see to it that we belong to the kingdom of heaven, when the Lord comes, for John tells us to repent and be ready to meet the Lord. Certainly, the road seems something of an ordeal, and at times we may get tired, but far from losing heart we should re-echo the encouragement of the prophet “Stand fast! Courage! Fear not! See the ears of the deaf opened, the lame and the crippled dancing, the dumb singing for joy.”
The tension between the “already” and the “not yet, is, and always will remain, a part of the daily experience of the Church and of believers. It is a trial of faith and hope, but a vivifying trial that must reawaken the sustaining power of those who wait for the coming of the Lord. Remember the example of the farmer — It will help us live in a state of patience and readiness. “Come Lord Jesus Come.”
