Advent Analogies of the Church
2nd Sunday of Advent
I remember five years ago when Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris shockingly went up into flames. It was the beginning of Holy Week 2019 and, naturally, every Easter homily anyone preached that year had to do with the Notre-Dame on fire. You may not have been old enough to know this back then, but the summer of 2018 through 2019 was a difficult stretch for the Church, with yet another round of clergy scandals emerging. Everyone saw the obvious symbolism in the cathedral burning while the gold cross behind the altar stood unharmed and glistened amidst the wreckage. That was an Easter homily that wrote itself.
Five years later, Notre-Dame is restored and, today, is being rededicated. The pictures that have been released of the inside of the cathedral are breathtaking: the pristine white stone, the brilliant paintings, and the marvelous stained glass, all simply perfect. The image of the restored cathedral standing, shining, in the heart of Paris while the whole world looks toward it in wonder seems a fitting image for the words of the prophet Baruch we heard today: “Jerusalem, take off your robe of mourning and misery; put on the splendor of glory from God forever: wrapped in the cloak of justice from God, bear on your head the miter that displays the glory of the eternal name. For God will show all the earth your splendor.”
I said at daily Mass last week that whenever you hear a prophet talk about “Jerusalem” you should substitute “the Church,” and when you think about “the Church” you should have in mind yourself and myself in mind. What Baruch is foretelling is the day when Jerusalem—the Church—you and me are redeemed from our sins: made new again in God’s grace, transformed from misery into glory, and robed in God’s splendor for the world to behold. In other words, what happened to Notre-Dame is supposed to happen to us by the healing and transformative fire of God’s love and mercy. We are meant to have what is old and decaying within us to be burned away. We are meant to be rebuilt from the ashes into a new and beautiful creation. We are meant to be a sign of God’s redeeming love to the world.
Every Advent, the figure of John the Baptist emerges with the same message: repent and prepare the way of the Lord. He cries out for us to give ourselves over to God’s all-consuming fire so that we can be made new and resplendent in God’s glory. Of course, John’s voice is often lost amidst the busyness and festivity of this time of the year; but we should still try to make the space in the next few weeks for God to do the work he wants to do.
In the remainder of Advent, there are a few components to strive for:
Prayer. Prayer is where we ground our existence in relationship with God. When we pray, we do far more than merely say words and ask for things. In prayer, we acknowledge that God is God and that we are his beloved creation. And it is out of that relationship–and only from that relationship–that he will change us. The type, amount, and location of prayer does not matter so much as the simple fact of doing it. Take fifteen minutes for yourself and simply be in the presence of God. That alone will do very much.
Reconciliation. In prayer, God will do at least two basic things: show you his love and show you where you fall short. The sacrament of reconciliation is where those two meet. We bring our sins and failings to God, God brings his love and mercy, and we are redeemed. Reconciliation is where God makes straight the paths, fills in the valleys, lowers mountains and hills, and smooths the road that leads to himself. Go to confession once between now and Christmas. Let God take away the obstacles that block your relationship with him.
Mercy. The right response to being forgiven and redeemed is generous self-gift. Because we have been saved, we ought to give ourselves away. If you have ever just narrowly avoided an accident or a disaster, you might have felt a desire to do something kind for someone else shortly thereafter. It should work the same way with reconciliation. We should leave the confessional praising God and extending the mercy we have received to those in need. The Church gives us the spiritual and corporal works of mercy as guides to help us see the opportunities that are before us. We don’t have to go off somewhere and do something dramatic. We need only love the person in front of us. Aim to do one real and meaningful act of mercy between now and Christmas. Give the mercy you’ve been given.
Prayer, reconciliation, and mercy are connected and intertwined. They are the fundamental building blocks of the Christian life. They are the means through which God changes us from the old, decrepit self-constructed buildings we are into the new, radiant, and glorious Church he desires us to be. God knows what he’s doing and these components are time-tested. You will not find a single saint who did not practice them. So, if our desire is to be one of them, let us use what they did to win heaven for ourselves.
The point of being Christian, obviously, is for ourselves: I want to get to heaven and this is what I have to do to get there. But here’s the catch: Being a Christian forces us to not live for ourselves but for Christ and for others. What God makes of us—by his grace, not by our efforts—is into a beautiful new creation, a city set on a hill, a light to the nations. The world is meant to look at us, the Church, and see the glory of God shining in us and through us. Whatever Notre-Dame Cathedral has been this weekend, we are meant to be even more wonderful and glorious. God’s grace can, in fact, do that; but we need to accept it.
Let’s hear again the call of Baruch, speaking of the Church, speaking of us: “Up, Jerusalem! stand upon the heights… For God has commanded that every lofty mountain be made low, and the age-old depths and gorges be filled to level ground, that Israel may advance securely in the glory of God… for God is leading Israel in joy, by the light of his glory, with mercy and justice for his company.” Amen.
Homily preached on Sunday, December 8, 2024 in the Chapel of the Immaculate Conception at Mount St. Mary’s University