We need prophets
We still have serious misconceptions about the social and political implications of Christian living. The prophet Baruch in today's first reading and John the Baptist in the Gospel show how, far from being an alienating spiritualism, God's salvation is...
We still have serious misconceptions about the social and political implications of Christian living. The prophet Baruch in today's first reading and John the Baptist in the Gospel show how, far from being an alienating spiritualism, God's salvation is meant to be very concrete, very incarnate. They both invite us on this second Sunday of Advent to historical discernment. God continues to tell His story, however distant that may sound from the one we experience around us and in our hearts.
The mission of John the Baptist, a voice in the wilderness, was to prepare humanity for the coming of the Lord. On the same lines, Baruch warns Jerusalem to "arise and turn your eyes to the east". Jerusalem at the time was disoriented, just as humanity is disoriented today. That's why we still need prophets, both in the world at large and in the Church. Prophets are like the eyes of humanity. Without them humanity is blind. The Baptist's words in the gospel today invite us all to take out our road map, if we still have it.
Israel, at the time of Jesus, had its own politicians and governors. Yet it lacked prophets. It is significant how in today's Gospel Luke contextualises so solemnly the specific political whereabouts when the Word of God came to John the Baptist. All those details about Tiberius, Pontius Pilate, Herod, and his brother Philip may seem superfluous. But they are not. Instead, reading the scriptures today in our assemblies, we are called to substitute those details with the who's who of today's scenario.
John the Baptist speaks of valleys to be filled in and mountains to be laid low, of winding ways to be straightened and rough roads to be made smooth. Other names for the social inequalities with which we learn to live peacefully, for the injustices still being perpetuated, for corruption and deceit, and for all that is distorted in our way of seeing things around us. It is easy to learn to endure all this without feeling any discomfort whatsoever.
John the Baptist reminds us that a commitment for justice without the proclamation of faith might yield to further illusions added to those we've accumulated in the last century. It is the conviction of many that the deepest currents of history are spiritual and cultural, rather than political and economic. In this sense, the readings today recall the public, historical character of the Word of God. Discernment is essentially a spiritual exercise; but it has to be rooted in the unfolding of history and in what is shaping our lives.
The Baptist proclaims a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins because that's what the good news of Jesus is about first and foremost: a change of direction that starts from the inside, from that reality we call sin and which involves us all. Yet God's salvation concerns also the sorrow and distress that keep us from seeing the beauty of the Lord.
Our liturgies cannot just peacefully co-exist with all that contradicts God's promises of salvation. As Christians, we still have a public role to fulfil. Inertia may at times be sinful. This makes the Baptist's cry in the wilderness urgent even for us today considering that the failings of human consciousness, deprived of its divine dimension, have been a determining factor in all the major crimes of recent history.
The Word of God today urges us to arise, to look forward with hope to the Lord who is coming, to be actively waiting on the Lord. As Martin Buber writes: "The real exile of Israel in Egypt was that they had learnt to endure it".