Claire Smith

Third Sunday of Advent

Scripture:

Zephaniah 3:14-18a
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:10-18

Reflection:

There is no more joyful and exhilarating proclamation for our reflection and meditation than the readings we find on the Third Sunday of Advent, also most joyfully known as Gaudete Sunday.  Gaudete is not just a suggestion; rather, in Latin, it is an imperative announcement, a declaration of something we must do if we are touched by the grand and glorious moment of the love and goodness of our faithful God.  Gaudete!  Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice!  Shout it out loud!  Sing it from the rooftops!  Rejoice!

And Zephaniah makes it perfectly clear why we should be filled with such happiness and joy.  He tells us that we should sing joyfully and exult “with all our heart.”  God, our merciful and loving God has saved us from our enemies; indeed, he has saved us from ourselves since our misfortunes are no longer something to fear and there is no need to be discouraged!  Is there any better news than this good news?

 And then St. Paul, in his letter to the Philippians, carries on this great theme when he says:  “Brothers and sisters: Rejoice in the Lord always.  I shall say it again:  rejoice!”  And not only should we rejoice, but we should make our kindness known and felt by all.  Nor should we be filled with anxiety, but rather, let all that be replaced by thanksgiving and the peace that only God can give!

And how is all this to happen?  What can make such joy possible?  In our Gospel, it is the great John the Baptist who reminds us that the Lord has come.  This is why we rejoice, trust, and live in hope: the Lord has come.  Gaudete!  Rejoice!  The Lord is near.  Thanks be to God.

Fr. Pat Brennan, C.P. is the director of Saint Paul of the Cross Passionist Retreat and Conference Center, Detroit, Michigan.

Scripture:

Sirach 48:1-4, 9-11
Matthew 17:9a, 10-13

Reflection:

The Spanish saint, John of the Cross, was not an ordinary writer. He was a poet. Thousands of years before, in the Holy Land of the Old Testament, he might have chosen to pen psalms.

But today’s reading brought up Elijah, a prophet whose story was penned by others, not himself. This raises a fascinating question: if Elijah, a prominent figure, didn’t write his own story, why should we expect Jesus to have written a few things down?

Consider the historical context: Jesus lived in a world rich in written languages – Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. Yet, he chose to convey his teachings orally. Most people were illiterate in his day; we should not be surprised that most American citizens were also illiterate in Thomas Jefferson’s day. Even today, illiteracy remains enormous around the world.

Much of the Bible endures from that powerful medium called the spoken word.

The spoken word has proven to bypass the barriers of time and distance and forges bonds among people. It’s more compelling than the written word in terms of tone, pace, body language, and emotions. It can be spontaneous, fluid, and adaptable to situations. It reaches people who may struggle with written text for physical reasons, not necessarily from a lack of education. And we know oral traditions have been the backbone of countless cultures for millennia. So, let’s think about how much it shapes our identities and values that we treasure today.

Elijah, Jesus, and countless other leaders chose the spoken word to leave their mark. Their words, passed down through generations by their followers, continue to inspire and transform. As we reflect on their legacy, let’s acknowledge the extraordinary power of the spoken word. This tool has shaped history and will continue for generations to come.

Jack Dermody is president of Share Our Gifts, Inc., a proactive group founded by Passionist Alumni to serve others; he is also editor of CrossRoads, the newsletter for the Passionist Alumni Association. He lives in Glendale, Arizona. 

Scripture:

Isaiah 48:17-19
Matthew 11:16-19

Reflection:

I’ll Live in You, if You Live in Me; Dance then, Wherever You May Be.

John Mogabgab, founding editor of Weaving, prays, “May the Lord of the Dance kindle in us a passion for the promenade of love that moves to the music of the new creation.”

The Advent image of the Dance appears in the gospel today in a negative way, ‘some played the flute for you, and you did not dance’. We can sway to the rhythm of Advent, redeem those who do not dance, and show them that the season of poinsettias is not for wall flowers! In fact Jessica powers in her poem “The Visitation Journey” may show us just that? “Love hurried forth to serve”, but this girl upon a donkey ‘has thoughts blown past her youth’. On her jolting donkey ‘she rides further and further into the truth. Mary’s not dancing. Mystery is moving deep within her. When the journey ends  John’s dance in Elizabeth’s womb greets Mary. Now Mary’s dance can begin for real.

We want to dance because of the One who danced in the morning when the world was begun, who danced in the moon, in the stars and the sun; who came down from heaven and danced on the earth, In Bethlehem he had is birth.

There is a story of a mean old shepherd living on a hill above Bethlehem. The Holy Family arrives in the darkness of night, and no one will open a door. The only light is a shepherd’s fire. He refuses to help Joseph but relents seeing that Joseph has nothing in which to carry the burning coals from the fire. Joseph says thanks and puts a few hand fulls in his mantel and rushes back to Mary. The shepherd follows. ‘What’s going on?’ he asks. Joseph truthfully answers, ‘If you cannot see what is going on, there is nothing I can tell you.” The shepherd sees a stable and a young mother with a newborn baby. She is shivering. Joseph’s fire has not yet warmed the place. The mean shepherd who has never been kind to anyone before is moved by a feeling he cannot describe. He takes off his coat, the warmest in Bethlehem full of wool. He lays it over Mary. At that instant he sees what he could not see before. What does he see? A stable packed with angels, from the hills around Bethlehem armies of angels march to pass the stable to see for themselves the baby Jesus. When they pass, they break ranks quickly making room for others, and the marching gives way to angelic dancing. The mean old shepherd stopped being mean. He always looks around the hills and remembers what he saw. His heart dances; a baby, dancing angels, the smile of that young woman.

Madeline L’Engle tells of a ‘Dance in the Desert’ when the caravan taking the Holy Family rests for the night. In the light of the campfire desert animals, and a dragon and unicorn, come before the child Jesus to dance for him. Mary stops one of the me who would kill a snake thinking to protect the child. But Jesus moves close to them, arms open, welcoming them and laughing at some of their awkwardness. Mary realizes their acts of reverence. The final dance ends with the unicorn laying her head in Mary’s lap.

During Advent let us dance because angels and saints among us dance to see the Savior; sinners among us dance because they see the love of mercy; and those who do not know Jesus, they will dance, because they will know the invitation to life.

Fr. William Murphy, CP is a member of Immaculate Conception Community in Jamaica, New York.