The Third Sunday in Advent, Year A

Signs of Healing in a Fractured World

Readings: Isaiah 35:1-10; Magnificat; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

My first parish was rural in many aspects when I moved there. People would give me directions to come out to their house for a visit. Drive up through Ashburn. Turn right. You'll see a small blue house on the corner. Turn there. Drive a couple of miles. You'll see an old shed. And so on. They would always end with, “You can’t miss it!” Believe me! That was not always the case.

Now we depend on GPS to get us to our destination. We think somehow because it is computerized that it cannot possibly make a mistake. We will surely find our destination if we simply put the right address into it. We trust it to take us to our destination by the best route.

Soon after I moved to Port Hope, I was meeting a friend at the train station in Cobourg. “You can’t miss it!” my friend assured me. I should just go along Division St. and follow the signs. I didn’t trust myself, so I put the address into my GPS. It took me along a side street that came out directly in front of the station – on the other side of the tracks. Indeed, I could miss it!

Living in an age of uncertainty and unrest, a time in society when we worry about the state of the world, about the ecology, about whether there truly is a future, it is easy to miss the signs of hope. We long for the coming of God’s kingdom of Shalom. We look for signs of the activity of God in our daily lives. We look for signs of healing. But somehow we are not attuned to God. We are unable to look beyond our own limitations for signs of the activity of God in history.

But take heart! For John the Baptist, the one of whom Jesus says, “among those born of women no one has arisen greater than he,” missed all the signs of Jesus' coming.

To be fair, John was in prison. What he heard about Jesus from the confines of his prison cell prompted him to ask some serious questions. He considered that Jesus was the long awaited Messiah, but doubts kept creeping in. This Jesus with his urban approach, wandering through the towns and villages preaching good news to the poor, the needy, the outcast presented a totally different perspective to John. In fact, Jesus was not at all what he expected. After all, he is the wild man out in the wilderness, preaching repentance, looking for God to come and judge the people. And so he sends word through his disciples. “Are you the one, or do we wait for another?”

And Jesus sends back word, “Tell John what you hear and see.” John does not understand what is happening. After all, signs of life are difficult to see from behind prison bars. From that perspective, it is so much easier to see death, blindness, disease, and evil. John had announced what Jesus would do. He had dreamed about how God’s power would be shown. He had preached it with fervour. He had shouted at the people, “You brood of vipers!” He was waiting to see what would happen. But it wasn't what he expected. He expected to hear about the axe falling at the root of the tree, about retribution, about the overthrowing of the political powers; yet he hears nothing of the sort. Instead of the axe, there is Jesus healing the sick, cleansing the lepers, raising the dead, preaching the good news of the gospel. It was so far from John's expectations that he could not be certain.

There is a wonderful Peanuts cartoon of Lucy talking to Charlie Brown. She has convinced Schroeder that her religion is better than his.

“How did you do that?” asks Charlie.

“It was easy!” says Lucy. “I hit him over the head with my lunch pail,”

That was the problem for John the Baptist. He himself expected to be hit over the head, to be judged, to be deemed unworthy. He expected the changes in society to take place through retribution. His mission was to prepare the people for disaster.

For Jesus, the mission was quite the opposite. He preached a Gospel of love and generosity. His mission was to do as he was doing, healing the sick, making the blind see and the lame walk, raising the dead. He knew that it was never going to happen by hitting people over the head with a lunch pail or railing at them about the retribution to come. That would never bring them to their senses. That would never get them to accept God. He knew that it was through faithful people coming into relationship with a loving God that the kingdom would be ushered in.

Isaiah offers us wonderful images of healing and reconciliation. He had a balanced vision of human healing. For him it was not merely physical but was connected also to emotional well being. He trusted that God would re-create new life for God's people. Wilderness would be turned into lush farmland and a salvation road could be fashioned where one had been thought impossible. Even humanity would be remade to walk the salvation road singing all the way to Zion itself. Hope, he knew is alive even at times of apparent hopelessness.

Everything about the Christian story teaches that real wholeness, real change comes from within. Rebirth comes from within our hearts, from within our lives and families, from within our communities. That is why Jesus’ ministry worked. Those who found themselves in Jesus’ presence were reborn. They were healed. The lame walked, the deaf heard, the dead were raised, the poor heard good news. Change took place in people’s lives, and what a different kind of change it was. Humanity was getting healed.

We all need that kind of healing. It is certainly needed in First Nations communities across Canada. They are beginning to defend their identity, their nationhood, their environment. It is a challenge to every one of us, a challenge that we need to take up. They challenge us to be faithful to the treaties we have made. They challenge us to be faithful to the truth rooted in the creation covenant calling every one of us to be stewards of the land. They call us to be open to their sense of spirituality, wondering if we will accept their desire to be both First Nations and Christian. They challenge us to understand our need for strong communities where people are open to helping one another.

You have undertaken a program about the Truth and Reconciliation process. That is important work for everyone in our community. Hopefully as you undertake this learning experience, you will learn about your own need for truth telling and reconciliation. This church community is a fractured one. How badly you need that kind of healing! That is the gift of Advent. It is a wilderness time in the Christian year, a time to consider our need for repentance, a time to allow God’s healing grace to permeate our lives, a time to transform our lives. It is above all a time to prepare for Christ to be born in us.

Advent is a time of renewal and transformation in the Church year. It is a time to be spiritually prepared for Christmas. It is a time for the wilderness to be brought to new life. There are many people who need that kind of transformation in their lives. We need to go where Jesus goes. We need to do what Jesus does – serving, healing, helping, and sharing out in the world. We need to live lives of generosity and love.

Our task during this Advent season is to let Christ come more fully into our lives. It is to share with others the joy of his presence by our concern for the suffering and the poor. It is to embrace this wilderness time and use it as a time to grow spiritually so that the wilderness rejoices and blossoms. It is to embrace the good news that God’s kingdom of shalom is breaking in, that change is taking place and that humanity is getting healed. It is to live our lives in Christ. It is to see Christ in those we meet. It is to prepare the way of the Lord.

The Second Sunday of Advent, Year B

The Prophetic Role

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-11; Psalm 85:8-13; 2 Peter 3:8-15a; Mark 1:1-8

Mark begins his gospel with a message of such hope. He begins with a claim that he is the bearer of good news for the world. He heralds in a new beginning, a fulfilling of the Old Testament as God breaks into the world in a new way. It is a big claim to say that you have something that is good news. What can be ‘good news’ for what is going on in the world, either in the early church of Mark, or for that matter in our modern world?

And so he sets the stage for telling the story of Jesus who is the Good News. ‘How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the one bearing good news to Israel and announcing God’s coming kingdom!’ It is John the Baptist, the last of the great prophets of the Old Testament, the prophet anointed by the Spirit to proclaim good news to the poor, to proclaim liberation whom Mark announces. John offers repentance as the way in which we enter into the kingdom of God. He points beyond himself, offering hope through renewing a right relationship with God. He preaches conversion, μετανοια. His is a call for a major change in direction, to turn their lives around. It is a call for the whole nation to repent as preparation for the coming of the Messiah. But that Good News may not be what people want to hear. The prophet is called to say what needs to be said, not what people want to hear.

I was leading a Bible Study on the prophetic role some years ago. I commented that we are all called to be prophets. One person replied, "Oh, no! You're quite wrong about that. We're Anglicans! It's a non-profit organization!" Although she was not serious, I think that it is easy for us to really believe that. After all, to be a prophet is to be at best strange and at worst fanatical.

But I have news for you. We are all called to prophetic ministry. And I can hear the clamour already. "I'm in business! I'm no prophet!" Or "I'm a teacher! A nurse! Retired!" Or best of all, "What do we pay clergy for anyway?"

And so we need to take note of what it means to be a prophet. What is the role of the prophet? What is God calling us to do?

The word prophecy comes from the Greek, προπηετεσ, "one who speaks before others." Often we take it to be some kind of ecstatic speech, but in reality the prophet is a person who is totally grounded, who speaks with authority what has been discerned through a close walk with God, and above all, one who listens to God.

Perhaps looking at some modern day prophets will give us insight into the role. I had such a person in one of the congregations in which I served. His is a much-maligned occupation. He is a meteorologist, so he worked at predicting our weather. He gave me some insights into how that happens.

Apparently in 1987, Pope John Paul was preparing for his trip to Los Angeles, and he wanted to know what the weather would be like while he was there. A weather consultant was hired by the Vatican to make some recommendations. He looked at the last thirty years of weather in Los Angeles at the time of year that the Pope's visit was to take place. He came back with his report. "At the time of your visit," he said, "it is likely to be very hot and dry." The Pope made his plans accordingly and the trip went off as expected.

The Farmer's Almanacs work on the same premise. They look at the past and make a prediction based on reasonable expectations. That explains why they are often so close in their predictions.

Parents do exactly the same thing. A child comes asking permission to do something. Based on experience, the parent knows what the outcome will be, says no and gives a reasonable explanation about why. There are the usual arguments. And if the parent gives in and the outcome is as predicted, with any luck the child comes and says, "How did you know?" But probably not until twenty years later.

The same thing is true of the prophetic role in Scripture. It looks back at the past in order to predict what is to come. So often the story begins with God recounting to the prophet all that God has accomplished for God's people in the past. "Wasn't I with you at the Red Sea? Did I not provide you with manna in the desert? Now go and tell my people ..." And the prophet is able to speak with authority, "Thus says the Lord!" The prophet is able to challenge the people on a moral level, to speak what needs to be heard in light of past experience. That is the role of John the Baptist. He is a predictor of what will be if the people continue on the same path without repenting and turning to God. He uses present behaviour to indicate what is likely to occur. In other words, he is a truth teller, and while we know that the truth will set us free, we are not always anxious to accept it.

Let’s face it! We do not always listen to truth tellers. Consider what happens when truth is suppressed. Is that not the story of the Christian faith? John the Baptist came to bring good news, to speak the truth. He preached repentance. He helped people to see their need to change their ways. He prepared the way for Jesus. He paid for it with his life. Jesus’ ministry was one of speaking the truth. He brought a message of great hope to the poor and to those in need. He befriended the outcasts of society. His message was offensive to the rich and powerful. His path was the way of the cross.

It is a story that is repeated over and over again in our history. It is the story of countless martyrs whose lives we celebrate. It is the story of Bonheoffer, executed for his faith. It is the story of Oscar Romero, murdered in his church for speaking words of liberation to his people. It is the ongoing story of many who speak out about the injustices that occur in our world.

Yet it is our call to bear the prophetic word, to be truth tellers. That is the message of the Incarnation. It is why Jesus entered into the sinfulness of our human nature. Can we be open to times of vulnerability as times of opportunity for change and renewal? Can we speak out against injustice and bring about God’s Kingdom of Shalom?

That is the message of Advent, after all. It is a season of fresh beginnings. The writer of Isaiah gives people a message of hope and comfort. The exiles will return to Jerusalem on a straight and level road. “God is always faithful,” he proclaims, “a God of power and tenderness.” John the Baptist heralds the good news of Jesus’ coming.

Today we are called to be heralds of this same good News. We announce to a hurting world that Jesus Christ has experienced the worst we face and has come through it. Our relationship with God helps us to see beyond our world. We are called to heal those who have been wounded by life, to relight candles that have been dimmed or gone out through all the tragedies that occur in peoples’ lives. How do we see the possibilities? How do we respond to the needs of others? Our life and witness as Christians is to shed light in human society on issues to which people remain blind. There is so much to do. There is so much injustice.

So yes! We need prophets. Those who prophesy encourage others. The prophetic word builds up the church. We need those in our day and age who are the encouragers. Such people witness through their actions, through their loving concern towards others. They speak out against the injustices they see in the world. They are the voice of the voiceless.

As Christians we follow an unknown path that leads us into new ways of being. There is a tension in being on that path. But we are offered grace, comfort and guidance along the road. We are offered hope in God’s promises.

Advent Wanderings

The Second Sunday of Advent
Year B

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-11; Psalm 85:8-13; 2 Peter 3:8-15a, 18; Mark 1:1-8

There is a poem that resonates in me with the message of Advent. It is written by Antonio Machado, a famous Spanish poet, and it became a song during the struggle for independence in Chile.

Wanderer, your footsteps are
The road and nothing more;
Wanderer, there is no road,
The road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
And upon glancing behind
One sees the path
That never will be trod again.
Wanderer, there is no road--
Only wakes upon the sea.

As Christians we follow an unknown path that leads us into new ways of being. There is always tension as we search out new directions. Life is like that. Just when we think that we are at the end of the road, we discover a twist or a turn or a fork that leads us in new directions. Into new beginnings!

Perhaps we think that our children are lost to us, and we discover that they are simply looking for independence, that they are becoming adults. Maybe we think that we have lost a friend, and we find that it has turned from a dependency into a mutual friendship that will carry us through our whole life. Or we think that our parish is in a state of decline, and then we see signs of new, fresh leadership. We see energy and deep spiritual growth. We are in awe of the faith that we see in one another. Or perhaps we look at the world around us. We witness violent terrorist acts. “Surely,” we say, “these are the end times.” And as we are thinking that civilization is about to crumble before our very eyes, we hear about acts of great compassion. And as we worry about the economic climate in our country and throughout the world wondering where it will all end, we open our hearts in generosity so that no one will go without.

And hopefully through all the twists and turns of life we remember that God offers grace, comfort and guidance on the road. We are offered such hope in God’s promises. That is the message of Advent, for it is a season of new beginnings, a season of hope, a season of new found faith, a season of joy.

Isaiah offers the people of Israel a message of hope and comfort. He reminds them of God’s promises. After years of exile, they will return home and God will be with them. God is bigger than all the suffering they have endured. God remains faithful and strong. They are to prepare the way through the wilderness as they might for any monarch. The exiles will return to Jerusalem on a straight and level road. “You can depend on the promises of God,” Isaiah tells them. “God will be there with you, leading, guiding, comforting. The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.” What a message of hope it is! It touches the very depth of human longing and hope.

The early Christians found themselves travelling a new and strange road filled with twists and turns, taking them in directions they hadn’t imagined. They had expected the imminent return of Jesus. When it did not happen, they found their hopes and dreams of a kingdom of shalom shattered. Peter told them that the delay was part of God’s plan. He knows that God wants the whole of creation to be transformed. He challenges them to prepare themselves for the day when Christ will come again. Can we hear in his message that the promise of God is a promise of transformation? We are to be a transformed and transforming people. We are to seek peace by being reconciled to one another and working for economic and political justice. It is through us that the kingdom of God will become a reality.

In the Gospel we hear the call to change direction on the road of life. In this Advent season, John the Baptist is a primary figure. He figures in two weeks of Gospel readings. There is no denying the impact that John the Baptist had on the people of his day. Only slightly older than Jesus, but by far the more provocative character, he drew attention for his bizarre behaviour and his edgy preaching. Even Jesus in being baptized by John acknowledges his charisma. Those who traipsed out into the wilderness did not go out to look at the scenery. They did not go out into the wilderness expecting to find luxury and royalty. They went out seeking a craggy, cranky prophet dressed in animal skins and eating locusts and honey, calling them to repentance. They were looking for someone who would tell them as it is. They were not disappointed. It led them into new ways of being.

That is strongly the message to us at this wilderness time of the year. We are called to repentance, to a new way of living our lives. John offers repentance as the way of entering into the kingdom. He points beyond himself, offering hope through renewal of right relationship with God. It is a call to change focus, to literally turn our lives around, to be converted. It is a call to faith.

How do we answer that call? Do we all really need conversion? The whole subject of conversion always brings to mind my mother, a very faithful Christian throughout her whole life, I might point out. I must have been about ten. We were in downtown Toronto. A man came up to us on the street. “Are you saved?” he asked us. “I’m an Anglican,” my mother quipped back. I suspect that many of us find it 'unanglican' to speak in such terms. But the gospel clearly calls us to allow God to transform our lives. It calls us to be converted.

So the answer to that question is a resounding “yes”. But I do not think for one moment that we all experience conversion in the same way. We think of it as a sudden transformation, a flash of insight, a moment of enlightenment or awakening. And that can be the case. For some people, there is a definite and distinct time in their lives when they experience God's call in a new and life changing way.

I suspect that for most people in church this morning, conversion has been a lifetime process, a lifetime of following God, a lifetime of commitment to the Gospel. For such people, conversion comes as a quiet recognition of how God continues to work in their lives. I know that when I look back on my own life I cannot remember a time when I was not a Christian. For that reason I would find it difficult to pinpoint a time of conversion. There are low times when I wondered if God cared. There are also times when I had mountain top experiences. And there have been times along the way that I can only describe as 'aha' moments when God gave me insights that deepened my experience and strengthened my faith.

What we all need is an authentic faith that we claim as our own. I think for that to happen we must have a sense that something is, not necessarily wrong, but that something is missing from our lives. Then we need a glimpse of who we are meant to be. That happens in many ways and at many times in our lives if we let it. It demands openness, honesty, integrity, and above all, courage. It means working at it. It means spending time in study and prayer, in examining our way of living, in committing as much time and energy to the spiritual dimensions of our lives as we do to the secular.

No matter at what stage of our Christian life we may be, there is possible a deeper encounter with the Christ who waits to enter our experience. So be prepared to search. Be open to the possibilities. The road is, after all, made by walking. Each discovery takes us deeper. It becomes a new beginning, a new birth, as Christ is born in us.

The Third Sunday of Advent, Year C

Rejoice!

Readings: Zephaniah 3:14-20; Canticle 3; Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18

When I was a child my grandmother gave me some of her old books. They were about a little girl named Elsie Dinsmore who was awfully good. I am certain that grandmother gave me the books because she wanted me to be more like Elsie. They had, I am certain, the opposite effect. For Elsie was just too perfect to be believed. She spent her life overcoming terrible tragedies. She always did what was good and right, and as I remember the stories now, it was often at the expense of others. She was quite insufferable, especially since through it all, she never stopped smiling.

Reading over Paul's letter to the Philippians reminded me, just for a moment, of Elsie Dinsmore. There he is in the midst of chaos, singing to these people, "Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say rejoice."

Now you may think that it is easy for someone like Paul to talk that way. After all, he doesn't have to worry about mortgage payments. The crime rate in Philippi is not climbing at an alarming rate. The world is not heading into ecological and economic disaster. He is not about to be attacked by terrorists.

Except for one thing! This joyful hymn is coming from Paul, a person who has experienced great personal tragedy. He has been beaten, persecuted, and thrown in jail for his faith. And yet he is able to call on his inner resources, on his relationship with God, on his faith, not simply to get him through it all, but to enable him to rejoice.

And then there are the Philippians. This community to whom he is preaching is a community under fire. First of all, they are under fire from within. They are bickering amongst themselves about who the leaders of the congregation should be. They also face opposition from other Christian communities who oppose the inclusivity of Paul’s message. The Christians in Jerusalem want these new converts from Philippi, a flourishing Greek community, to assume the traditions of the Jewish roots of Christianity. The Jewish faith means absolutely nothing to them. Finally they are threatened by danger from a hostile environment. Simply by becoming Christians they have opened themselves up to persecution. They live in the Roman Empire where it does not pay to convert.

Paul’s appeal to joy is not simply encouragement. He is calling the people back to God. He knows that faith is their greatest resource. They trust in a God who walks with them. They have experienced the great love of God. God is a part of their daily lives.

The prophet Zephaniah also sings to us across time and place about living joyfully. His fiery message reflects the turbulence of his time, a time of social injustice, a time of secularism. The leaders of Israel have exploited the people shamelessly. They in response have turned away from God. They feel the sting of God’s judgement. They feel abandoned. “Sing aloud, O daughter Zion,” he proclaims with passion. “Rejoice and exult with all your heart. The Lord has taken away the judgements against you.” They are words of transformative hope. His passionate song rings out to the people reminding them of their close relationship to God. Their hope lies in God, who offers empowerment. God continues to call them back into covenant, time and time again. They are God’s people; God continues to walk with them.

John the Baptist also sings out a message of great hope to the converts who have followed him out into the Judean wilderness to be baptised.

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you of the wrath to come?” Not exactly words designed to please the people to whom he was preaching! John is preaching a challenging message. He is preaching against Imperial Rome with its worldview based on ammassing power and material wealth for itself. He is preaching against the religious institutions with their elaborate systems run by powerful priests. The way he lives his whole life speaks out against corrupt power. He baptises in the River Jordan, not in a beautiful Temple with its gilt and opulence. He is preaching out in the wilderness. He is calling people to repentance. He calls them to prepare for what they have been waiting for all these years. He calls them to transform their lives as they await the coming Messiah.

And they respond to the song. “What should we do?” they ask him.

“Share what you have with the poor, “ he tells them. “Be honest in your work. Be satisfied with your wages. Don’t be chaff or you’ll burn in Hell.” John is not one to mince words. These are not the lyrical reminders of Zephaniah. His words are judgemental and harsh. But they sing just the same. Those who are fit for the Lord are those who go beyond lip service and actually produce the fruits of repentance. “You have to make changes in your lives,” John tells them. “You need to be transformed.” Difficult as they may be, these are not earth shattering revelations. For the world to become a better place these people need to act. They need to conduct their affairs with integrity and compassion. Not that it will eradicate all the pain and injustice that exist in the world, but it will be a starting point. It will begin to put things right. His words fill the people with hope, expectation and joy.

What song of joy do we sing as we prepare for the birth of Christ? “How can we sing?” I can hear you saying. Look at the hopeless situations in the world around us! War in Afghanistan, terrorism, violence on our once peaceful streets, failing economies, changing ecology, secularism ... We live complicated lives. How can we possibly rejoice in the terrible society in which we live? How can these passages speak to us of joy when all we can see is turmoil and trouble?

It has been said that Advent is a time for joy, not primarily because we are anticipating the anniversary of the birth of Jesus, but because God is already in our midst. That is something to sing about. Let us prepare for the birth of Christ by allowing God to transform our sorrow into joy, the chaos and turmoil of our world into peace. Experience assures me that if we do, then the world will change for us. It will be bathed in light. It will be beautiful. Hope will be renewed. Like Elsie, we will begin to see the world not for what it is, but for what it will become when God ushers in the Kingdom.

The Second Sunday of Advent, Year C

Wilderness Thoughts!

Readings: Baruch 5:1-9; Psalm 126; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6

For the most part, the Old Testament stories which we read Sunday by Sunday, recount the conflicts and struggles of the people of Israel.  Once in a while, they offer bright flashes of divine light which speak to us in a much deeper way.  Such passages bring us to a realization of what is to come.  They speak to us through time.  They reveal, not an exact account of future events, but an unfolding of God's plan for the world.  It is such passages which prepare us for the good news of the gospel. 

Such passages were often the inspiration for Luke.  In the events of the life of Christ, he saw the events of the Old Testament coming to pass.  He recognized the coming of the kingdom.  God would visit the planet.  God would be revealed through the coming of Christ.  He saw the need for people to be prepared for that coming. 

The picture which we get of John the Baptist from Scripture is as the last of the Old Testament prophets.  John lived in solitude in the wilderness.  There he had companionship with eternal things.  There he watched stars blaze in the darkness.  There he meditated and prayed.  There he listened to the voice of God.  And there he spoke words of truth.  Difficult words that cut to the heart of the matter.  For his message was a call to repentance and forgiveness.  The baptism of John conveyed,  not what God was saying, but what God was beginning to do. 

To hear such a message required commitment.  It required risk.  It required travelling into the unknown.  If you wanted to hear John preach you did not go to the synagogue. He was not to be found there. You had to go to where he was.  You had to go far out into the Judean wilderness.  You had to be prepared to find God in the least expected places.  And isn't that how it often seems to happen? Isn't it through our wilderness experiences that we are enabled to hear God more directly? 

I had a friend whom I used to visit who lived in the L'arche community, “Daybreak” in Richmond Hill.  L'arche was begun by Jean Vanier to assist those who are developmentally handicapped.  It brings together people of all abilities to help each other.  My friend Tom was a very simple soul.  He lived in the community for over ten years.  It allowed him to live independently in a way that none of us ever thought possible.  He helped to prepare meals and to do the cleaning.  More importantly, he was part of a family. 

In the same house with Tom, lived Henri Nouwen.  You may have heard of him for he was a well known author.  A Roman Catholic priest, an academic, who taught theology both at Yale and at Harvard, he was perhaps an unlikely one to be found in the community.  In his book, "Journey to Daybreak", he recounts the story of his search and how it lead him to take up his life there. 

He was at a point of transition in his life.  He had no idea what he should be doing.  Then one day there was a knock at the door.  He answered it.  It was a young woman. 

"Hi, I'm Jan," she said.  "I bring you greetings from Jean Vanier." 

Immediately his mind went into gear.  Did Jean Vanier want him to speak a conference?  Or direct a retreat?  "That's nice, he said.  "What can I do for you?" 

"Nothing!" she replied.  "I just came to bring you greetings from Jean Vanier."  No matter how much she insisted that her purpose, her only purpose, was to bring greetings, the more Henri thought she must be there to ask him to do something.  Finally the message sank in.  She was bringing him greetings, nothing more. 

Some time later, Jean Vanier phoned.  "Spend a quiet day with me in prayer," he said.  The mind went into gear again.  He must want something.  But he insisted that his only purpose was to pray with him.  His friendship with Jean Vanier lead to a visit to one of the communities of L'arche in France, and ultimately gave him the direction for which he was seeking.  The simple message of greeting opened him up to God's call.  He realized that he didn't have to "do" anything.  He just had to "be".  He ended up leaving the academic life for the community life of L'arche.  He became the chaplain and administrator to Daybreak. 

His learning was perhaps the most important thing that any of us can discover on our spiritual journey.  We are called, not to do, but to be.  To be what God intends us to be.  To be real people living in a real world.  And for most of us that is not a call to anything extraordinary.  It is a call to live our lives intentionally.  To share the love we have for Christ with those who need to hear the message of love. 

But that listening requires that we prepare ourselves carefully.  It requires that we have a prayer life.  That we read and study the scriptures.  That we participate in the life of the church.  And that we carry with us the Christ we serve.

Advent is time of anticipation, a time for looking forward. John the Baptist continues to remind us that we must first look within. We must reflect upon our lives and changes that prepare us for the coming of Christ. Change is a call and a challenge to grow but it is also a reality of life. To live is to change; to grow is to change greatly. John in the wilderness recognized his need to change and grow.

For us too, it means change and growth. There are always mountains and hills in our lives which need to be torn down.  There are obstacles which keep us from living intentionally, which keep us from truly serving God.  Like those who followed John into the wilderness, we begin by asking for forgiveness.  By recognizing what separates us from the love of God.  By recognizing what keeps us from reaching to others.  Those things we bring to God.  Advent is a time to walk into our hearts and to notice the shifting sands of our lives. It is a time to leavethat wilderness place a bit changed and ready to make a difference. Then we are  prepared for Christ to be born in us.