Yesterday was Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent. Out of the entire year, the Mass readings for this day (from all three cycles)[1] have always struck a distinct chord in me. The very first reading this year I consider to be one of the most compelling verses in all of Scripture: “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and release to the prisoners…”[2]
For some reason when I hear or read these scriptures, I can’t help but feel chills running down my spine at the directness and intensity of the words, which seem to reverberate through my whole being. A little dramatic, I know, but I liken it to a child being taken to the theatre or the circus for the first time; the lights go dim, and in the minutes before the curtain goes up, there is a sitting-still hush — a breathless anticipation of what is soon to come. Something about these passages grabs my attention in the same way and puts me on the edge of my seat, listening, watching, waiting.
“Be patient, brothers and sisters, until the coming
of the Lord. Make your hearts firm because the
coming of the Lord is at hand.”[3]
I’m not sure about you, but my attention span is the size of a snowflake, especially at this hectic time of year. And yet, in all the clamor of shopping, holiday parties, and family visits, this is the season that calls us to quiet, to that sitting-still hush. “A voice cries out: In the desert prepare the way of the Lord …” [4] Have you stilled your soul yet these past two weeks? Have you ventured into the desert to prepare for the Advent of the Lord? “The Lord is near …” [5]
I know I haven’t quieted my noise or faced my thirst as much as I should, probably because it’s hard. It’s hard to drown out the continuous chaos of life and go to those places within ourselves that we don’t like going to even when we’re not world-weary. “Lord, come and save us.” [6] But entering into this hush doesn’t have to be a chore; it can be a time of renewal, of spiritual rehydration — and we need it. The only way we will long for the living water is by realizing we are thirsty. And we have to go into the desert to remember how parched we are.
“They will not thirst anymore, nor will the sun or any heat strike them. For the Lamb will shepherd them
and lead them to springs of life-giving water, and
God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” [7]
We all have our own desert, our own individual wilderness we’re wandering through. What’s yours? Dealing with a difficult family member? Stressing over that bill that you’re not sure if you can pay? Coping with depression or loneliness? Struggling with the grief of losing someone you love due to an illness or accident? Feeling helpless because your child has fallen away from the faith? Having issues in your marriage?
Where is your dryness the greatest? In what area are you most thirsty for the living water, the joy that God is always waiting to pour out into your “parched land”?
“The desert and the parched land will exult; the steppe will rejoice and bloom. They will bloom with abundant flowers, and rejoice with joyful song.”[8]
God longs to turn our deserts into gardens. Wherever you are dying of thirst right now, the Lord can, will, and wants to immerse you in the ocean of His mercy, irrigating your arid soul with the peace that only comes from abandonment to Him. “For waters will burst forth in the wilderness, and streams in the Arabah. The burning sands will become pools, and the thirsty ground, springs of water.”[9]
“Rejoice, the Lord is near!”[10] This isn’t just a worn out expression, not simply an indication of how close Christmas is; it is a whisper of His constant presence beside us, a reminder of His strong arms wrapped about us, a call to make us lift our eyes to His — His eyes ever gazing into our hearts and lives. “The LORD raises up those who are bowed down.”[11] This week, let’s try to hear that whisper a little louder, surrendering with trust to His embrace, and joyfully readying ourselves for His coming. “Be strong, fear not! Here is your God, he comes to save you.”[12]
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice! Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”[13]
[1] To read the Mass readings from all three Cycles, follow the links below:
Cycle A: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/121513.cfm
Cycle B: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/121414.cfm
Cycle C: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/121612.cfm
[2] Is. 61: 1-2A
[3] James 5: 7-8
[4] Is. 40: 3
[5] Phil. 4: 5
[6] cf. Is 35:4
[7] Rev. 7: 16 – 17
[8] Is. 35: 1- 2
[9] Is. 35: 6 – 7
[10] Phil. 4: 4 – 5
[11] Ps. 146: 8
[12] Is. 35: 4
[13] Phil. 4: 4, 6 – 7