2nd Sunday of Advent (A)
Readings: Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 71 (72):1-2, 7-8, 12-13, 17; Romans 15:4-9; Matthew 3:1-12
Picture: By Vivek on Unsplash
What does keeping the peace look like? Here’s a true story that some of us may find familiar. A wealthy but childless Singaporean widow in her eighties goes on a trip abroad, and befriends her foreign tour guide. A year later, the guide moves into the widow’s huge bungalow with her, claiming she wants him to be her grandson. Three years after that, he obtains permanent residency in Singapore, and moves his wife and two children to live with him in the bungalow. He also convinces the widow to will all her assets to him, and to grant him legal authority to manage all her financial affairs. Not long after, the widow is diagnosed with dementia. At this point, seen only from the outside, that bungalow might have looked like nothing more than the peaceful home of a caring adopted family. But the widow’s niece is not convinced. She takes steps to expose the guide’s exploitation of her aunt, and to reverse it. He is thrown in jail, and then deported, and forbidden to enter Singapore again. Just a few days ago, it was reported in the news that the now-deceased widow’s bungalow has been sold for $22 million. A peaceful ending to a story that could easily have turned out very differently. If not for the widow’s niece. Who had the wisdom to see through a false peace, and the courage to intervene. As a result, a vulnerable person was protected, and a cunning predator brought to justice. Peace through wise and courageous intervention. Isn’t this what we find in our scriptures today?
There are no bungalows in our readings for this 2nd Sunday of Advent. Instead our attention is split between two other locations. The first reading invites us to imagine and to look forward to an incredibly safe place, God’s holy mountain. Here both predators and their prey live harmoniously together. The wolf with the lamb, the panther with the kid, the lion with the calf. And even such a typically dangerous and highly toxic environment as a nest full of poisonous snakes, is rendered safe enough for a child to put its hand in it. For they do no hurt, no harm, on all my holy mountain. And all this is made possible only through the loving intervention of God, who anoints a leader to rule this marvellous place. On this leader the spirit of the Lord rests, giving him power to judge the wretched with integrity, and with equity to give a verdict for the poor of the land.
It is the coming of this Anointed One, and the rise of this same holy mountain, that John the Baptist proclaims in the gospel. But this proclamation takes place at yet another location. Not a safe and holy mountain, but a chaotic and fearsome wilderness. Where predators remain dangerous, and poisonous snakes highly toxic. Which is why the Baptist does more than just share information. He also calls to conversion. Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is close at hand. And when certain Pharisees and Sadducees come to him for baptism. John doesn’t just take their external profession of sorrow at face value. Instead he challenges them to show concrete signs of conversion. For just as a predatory tour guide can slyly make his home in a widow’s bungalow, and poisonous snakes can hide under the desert sand, so too can sinful attitudes and unjust processes take cover behind pious practices. Rather than leaving a brood of vipers to do what they like, the Baptist has the wisdom and courage to intervene. Like how the widow’s niece intervened to protect her aunt from a scam artist. Bringing their hidden poison into the light of day. So that the vulnerable may be kept safe.
But there is a price to be paid for this way of keeping the peace. As we know, later in Matthew’s gospel (14:1-12), the Baptist will be thrown in prison for intervening in King Herod’s marital affairs, eventually losing his head to an executioner’s blade. And remembering all this might help us to better understand what we find in the second reading. Here, St Paul prays that God may help his audience to be tolerant with each other, following the example of Christ Jesus. But what exactly is the example of toleration shown by Jesus? Surely it’s not the kind that leaves poisonous snakes unchecked, particularly if they endanger the vulnerable. For much as the Lord delighted in the company of outcastes and public sinners, he also saw fit to challenge the corrupt and hypocritical. And like John the Baptist before him, the Lord paid the price for his actions with his own life. Dying on a cross, before being raised up on the Third Day.
While it is true that sometimes keeping the peace simply means letting things be, there are also other times when it requires us to intervene. And this is especially true when we encounter an unsafe or unjust environment. Whether that environment be around us or even within our own hearts. Then, as baptised Christians, we are called to intervene, by repenting and calling to repentance. Which brings to mind the memorable title that Pope Saint Paul VI chose for his message on the occasion of the World Day of Peace back in 1972: If you want peace, work for justice. These days, a similar message, expressed in much simpler words, is often posted in many places, even around our church: See something, say something. Isn’t this what that widow’s niece did? And isn’t this what wise parents do, when they curb their teenager’s screen-time, and pay the price for it?
Whether or not we live in a bungalow, the season of Advent reminds us that we are all still on the way between two key spiritual locations: the danger of the wilderness, and the safety of God’s holy mountain. Sisters and brothers, what must we do to help one another to keep moving in the right direction today?
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