Bishop Glen John Provost
Bishop of Lake Charles
Second Sunday of Advent
December 9, 2013
Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception
“It was of him that the prophet Isaiah had spoken when he said: ‘A voice of one crying out in the desert, Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.’” Matthew 3:3
Do you remember as a child asking a grandparent or uncle or aunt, “Please tell me a story.” As children we knew the good storytellers. In school we had teachers like this. We waited for the good story, because the good story gave us more than entertainment. They opened up another world to us, a mysterious world that for a child was difficult to understand. They taught us something we didn’t know. The wise grandmother or teacher could make everything come alive, tell us of past events and make them seem as though they had happened yesterday.
In Advent we are preparing to hear what has been called “the greatest story ever told.” But we must beware. This story is no tale or myth. We are listening to a “voice crying out in the desert.” We are waiting to hear how God became man, took on human flesh and entered our world. This is no ordinary story. This story is true. It is larger than life. It is too profound to understand under ordinary circumstances with common language. That God would reach down from heaven out of love and become a human for one purpose alone, that is to reconcile sinful humanity to Himself, is indeed an event that requires special words, an extraordinary proclamation. So this ineffable mystery is communicated with word and sacrament—in the Gospels and in our liturgy. We must not fear the mystery. It is of God.
At the center of the proclamation of this mystery—of the story to surpass all others—is the person of St. John the Baptist. The Gospel describes St. John as fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah: “A voice of one crying out in the desert, Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths” (Matthew 3:3). Have you ever been in a desert? Only on a few occasions have I. It is a desolate place, where any sound is clear and unmistakable. Like hearing a twig break while hiking in a lonely forest, we hear it and nothing else. A sound that on a busy city street would be ignored is unmistakable where there is nothing around to drown it out.
So, we ask St. John the Baptist in this Advent, “Speak to us.” And what does he tells us? “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” (Matthew 3:2). Like the storyteller of our youth, St. John the Baptist becomes the story. He wore nothing but camel’s hair and a leather belt. He ate locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4). What a marvelous sight he must have been! People of the whole region came to him confessing their sins and wanting to be baptized (Matthew 3:5-6) (3). And what does St. John tell us?
He first challenges the religious leaders. He calls them a “brood of vipers” (Matthew 3:7)—strong words, but good storytellers, real messengers of truth, use strong words. They are prophets. They are the voices crying out in the desert. No one can miss the truth of what they proclaim. St. John tells them they should not think they are better than anyone else because they are descendants of Abraham (Matthew 3:9). Instead, the good tree will be known by the fruit it bears (Matthew 3:10). And there is “one who is coming after me” (Matthew 3:11) who is greater. St. John’s baptism is a baptism of repentance but the one “mightier than I” will baptize “with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Matthew 3:11) (11). The baptism of St. John is only a preparation for the real thing. The baptism of the “mightier” one will be a sacrament—“a sign that is what it signifies”—for that is what we believe a sacrament to be. It is the ultimate expression of God’s presence in the world, a truly life or death moment, a make or break situation—for “He will clear his threshing floor, and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire” (Matthew 3:12).
St. John’s words leave me speechless. I feel like the child at the feet of my teacher, asking, “Please tell me more.” But the rest of the story must wait for another day and I am filled with anticipation. For this reason St. John and his message are the perfect Advent proclamation.
In a world as cynical as ours, we need to reconnect with the wonder and awe of the Gospel message and sacramental life of the Church that presents that proclamation to us anew. We take pride in thinking we are so adult, so advanced, but Jesus called us to be little children, because only children recognize the truth of a story and are innocent enough to hear a voice crying in the wilderness.