A Single Voice Preaching Repentance

Homily for the Second Sunday in Advent

We don’t often hear from the Book of Baruch. Because the only preserved manuscript is written in Greek, it does not appear in the Jewish Scriptures and, therefore, is not accepted by the Protestant Churches. It is classified as one of the prophetic books; however, Baruch himself was not a prophet. Rather, Baruch identifies himself as the scribe of Jeremiah the Prophet. The subject matter of the entire book is about the trauma that afflicts the hostages of the Babylonian captivity.

There may be doubts as to the dating and the authorship of the book called Baruch, but the reality it addresses is clear. Jerusalem has fallen, destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar. The book is written in exile, sent from the far kingdom of Babylon. It is a call for repentance, a reflection on true wisdom, and – perhaps most importantly, a book of a future promise. Despite circumstances of deprivation and desperation, Baruch is a labor of hope. He writes: “For God will show all the earth your splendor.” Though stripped of grandeur, Israel will be led by God in joy. Even in their terrible loss, God will shower them with glory, mercy, and justice.

Paul’s letter to the Philippians is also filled with promise. A great work has been started in the community, and Paul is convinced that it will be carried to completion. What is more, he is filled with love for them: “God knows how much I long for each of you with the affection of Christ Jesus. My prayer is that your love may more abound, both in understanding and wealth of experience, so that with a clear conscience and blameless conduct you may learn to value the things that really matter up to the very day of Christ.”

These words speak of high hopes and comforting thoughts. But we would miss much of their power if we failed to realize that Paul is writing this letter from prison. Moreover, the little Philippian community addressed with such tenderness and compassion is being besieged by external forces and internal divisions. Paul is in chains and the outlook is bleak, yet this letter is the occasion of some of the most beautiful Pauline passages: the undying affection of the first chapter, the poetic faith of the second, and the exultant reliance on God of the third. Such splendor, but in the midst of such pain.

Luke’s Gospel heightens this paradoxical affirmation of hope despite almost impossible odds. Christ’s imminent coming is announced in the first chapter, in the ominous shadow of Tiberius’s rule. The Evangelist notes that Pontius Pilate is procurator; Herod is tetrarch; Annas and Caiaphas are high priests — all these names bode more doom than deliverance. These men are the mighty and the dangerous, the important and the awesome. They will figure prominently in the passion narrative of the final chapters Luke’s Gospel. They will be agents of despair rather than agents of hope.

Yet hidden in the badlands of their dominion, a single voice is raised to preach repentance and forgiveness. John the Baptist, mindful of Isaiah’s promise that all shall see the salvation of God, grasps that the time is ripe. Here was this hidden man, John, a voice in the wilderness of time, who was given God’s word. “Make ready the way of the Lord.”

Beyond the rise and fall of the great nations, lasting longer than all the tinhorn dictators, who has survived? What reality is important? What word has lasted? Whose voice endures?

It is good for us to answer and remember. More than all the victories of the Caesars, the pomp of tetrarchs, and the grandiosity of the highest priests, more than the voices of the despots of human history, it was the voice of the outsider, the baptizer, who addressed all history and is remembered. Jesus will eventually tell his disciples that there has not been a man born of woman who is greater than this man whose voice cries out in the salt wastes of the desert. The truth, uttered in adversity, holds more power than all the huzzahs bellowed in triumph.

Yet it is important that we not only hear that voice. We must also listen carefully to what he has to say. He calls for repentance. He calls us to turn back to God, to put away the things of this world which distract us from God’s will. Advent is a time of anticipation. However, the anticipation will die unless it is accompanied by true repentance – metanoia – literally, a change of mind. We add our voices to that of the prophets and cry out, “Come, Lord Jesus”! Like the voices of those held in bondage in Babylon, like the voices of the members of the Church of Philippi, we want to see the salvation of the Lord.