It’s
Gaudete Sunday, the day when the Church
dresses herself in cheery-looking rose vestments (in place of penitential
purple), the Advent Sunday when we once again hear Saint Paul’s powerful
message, which is simultaneously so comforting and so challenging: Rejoice in the Lord always. Your kindness
should be known to all. The Lord is near. Have no anxiety at all [Philippians 4:4-6].
It’s
nice to be told to rejoice. The
lights and sounds of the season, the greetings we get in the mail, not to
mention the shopping-inducing messages our commercialized, consumerist culture
keeps sending us from every direction, are all telling us to rejoice. But what about the rest of
Paul’s message? How about Your kindness
should be known to all, and Have no
anxiety? Just how are we supposed to do all that? Well there are people to
tell us how to do that too, aren’t there? Isn’t that why we have advice
columns, website medicine, TV talk shows, psychic hotlines, expensive
psychotherapy, personal trainers, “life coaches” and - most ubiquitous of all,
at least right now - presidential candidates, that all purport to help us
answer that question? And then there is John the Baptist in today’s gospel
reading. “What should we do?” The crowds
asked John the Baptist [Luke 3:10]. And John, being John, didn’t hesitate to answer – quite directly,
giving each group its own targeted tailored to the specific moral challenges
connected with each profession.
Now John’s people, so the gospel tells us, were filled with expectation [Luke 3:15]. Just what were they expecting? Santa Claus? Not likely! A
year-end Christmas bonus? Probably not that either! For that matter - and much
more to the point - what are we expecting this Advent, this Christmas? The Lord is near, Saint Paul tells us.
It is he whom we are expecting. But
then the conclusion Paul draws from that is quite the challenge: Have no anxiety at all.
Which
leaves us where we started with the question: How do you live without anxiety,
with no anxiety at all? How can anyone do that, with all the daily worries that
weigh us down, the bills that never stop coming and seem to get bigger all the
time, the sense so many people increasingly have (especially in the 30 years or
so) that the economic deck is stacked against them, not to mention the big
picture problems of the larger world that are anything but faraway - war, terrorism,
and climate change, not to mention gun violence in schools, churches, and even
workplace holiday parties? The fact that St. Paul made his point with such
emphasis, even repeating himself, suggests that such anxiety must have been as
real a problem for his 1st-century audience as it is for us, and
that they too may have found rejoicing a bit of a challenge.
Today,
Pope Francis has opened the Jubilee Holy Door at his Roman cathedral church,
the Papal Basilica of Saint John Lateran. And all over the world local
cathedrals and other designated churches have also opened special “Doors of
Mercy,” through which all are invited to go on pilgrimage to celebrate God’s
great mercy of which we are both the recipients and his instruments.
"This
Extraordinary Year," the Holy Father assured the world in his homily at
the Mass that preceded the opening of the Holy Door at Saint Peter’s earlier
last week, "is itself a gift of grace.
To pass through the Holy Door means to rediscover the infinite mercy of
the Father who welcomes everyone and goes out personally to encounter each of
them. It is he who seeks us! It is he who comes to encounter us! This will be a year in which we grow ever
more convinced of God’s mercy."
As
if he were anticipating Paul’s words of joy to us, as if he were himself
challenging our anxiety and how easily we let it sadden us, the Pope continued:
"In
passing through the Holy Door, then, may we feel that we ourselves are part of
this mystery of love, of tenderness. Let
us set aside all fear and dread, for these do not befit men and women who are
loved. Instead, let us experience the
joy of encountering that grace which transforms all things."
This
Jubilee Year should remind us that the rejoicing Saint Paul prescribe is not
some passing sentiment, not some eggnog-induced holiday cheer, but rather is
rooted in the new identity we now have from our experience of God’s mercy.
Homily for the 3rd Sunday of Advent, Immaculate Conception Church, Knoxville, TN, December 13, 2015.
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