Today’s readings: Zephaniah 3, 14-18; Philippians 4, 4-7; Luke 3, 10-18.
Three Old Testament prophets in this Advent season, Jeremiah, Baruch, and today Zephaniah, have spoken to us of confidence, beauty, and joy respectively. In spite of all that may be blocking our vision and tampering with the meaning of life at this present moment, we are called to rejoice for what the Lord has accomplished and is still accomplishing in our midst.
This joy intensely celebrated every single year on this third Sunday of Advent is not just a feeling or an emotion. It is a joy that is earned as the result in the first place of a commitment to justice in relationships and in our humane way of connecting with people. This transpires from the Baptist’s response in the gospel to different categories of people he was addressing. His answer points impeccably to issues of justice concerning public offices at large as well as the daily management of personal relationships.
It is absurd, from the gospel perspective, to desire a peaceful society if there is no true commitment to justice. As long as abysmal divisions and differences remain in society, as long as profit continues to come before people, as long as self-interest dominates our relationships, and as long as those on the periphery of society remain where they are, there cannot be peace.
We need to be inspired and touched more deeply by a true sense of justice. Otherwise, it is to no avail to speak of peace or even to desire it. This is not easily translatable in daily terms. Life has become so complex today at a time when civilisations are clashing, politics in general seems devoid of ideals and religions themselves are weakened. Our sources of inspiration in the world at large seem to have dried up.
In life and in time there is always that which is manifest and that which remains shrouded. What is manifest is clear for everyone to see. What is shrouded calls for an extra effort on our part, or many a time even for some wisdom. This is what the prophets of the Old Testament constantly proclaimed to God’s people in times of turmoil and suffering: that the Lord was in their midst even if what they manifestly experienced was His absence.
In Luke’s gospel highlighting the Baptist’s ministry, the theme of judgment is introduced to emphasise the need of a response in faith. The Lord will come “to gather the wheat into His barn”, burning the chaff in a fire that will never go out. ‘Chaff’ here is clearly synonymous with unfruitful trees, with unfruitful lives, referring concretely to our celebrations of Christmas with no impact at all on how we live and what we live for.
Yet Luke substitutes the fire of judgment with the fire of Pentecost, pointing in today’s text to he whose baptism in spirit and fire is capable of bringing novelty. This is the primacy of grace in our lives, highlighted by Pope Francis when last week he opened the Holy Door of the Jubilee of Mercy. It constantly points to the mystery of what God accomplishes for us and in us.
This is God’s closeness, which is affirmed in today’s readings. It is echoed in the powerful words of the prophet Zephaniah calling on a defeated Jerusalem to shout for joy, to rejoice, reassuring the people that there is no more evil to fear. The reassurance comes in the form of a promise in the words of the prophet who, addressing Israel’s suffering, speaks of a golden era that will reverse historical reality.
Paul’s words to the Philippians are to be particularly heeded these days because they really can bring solace: “I want you to be happy; what I want is your happiness. There is no need to worry; the peace of God will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.”
Paul is affirming that God’s closeness carries us through times of turmoil, reassures us in times of doubt, empowers us precisely when we experience the limit. We live in very particular times when the world needs to be guarded and protected and when we all need to be reassured that the Lord who may seem so distant, is so close.