Third Sunday of Advent
Sunday, December 14, 2025

If you
know me at all, you know that patience does not figure high among any
virtues I may have. I hate to wait! I envy people who, when caught in
traffic gridlock, are able to sit patiently behind the wheel, think kind and
lofty thoughts or maybe say their prayers. And I envy people who chill out
and go with the flow when they pass through airport security. Not me, with
my uncanny ability to get into the fastest-moving line which invariably
turns out to be the slowest. It’s no different at the supermarket or in
choosing freeway lanes. And even though I try to tell myself that slowing
down and waiting builds character, I have yet to convince myself.
Advent,
with its invitation to slow down, was made for people like me. In today’s
second reading, James gave us two fine models for slowing down, for patient
waiting: the farmer and the prophet. They may seem an unlikely twosome, but
both have something important in common: farmers plant their seeds and then
they wait for the rain and sun to do their work; prophets plant the seed of
God’s Word and then wait for grace to do its work, wait for the Word to take
root, opening closed minds and softening hard hearts.
James
wrote his letter to people who were tired of waiting, people who were
becoming impatient about Jesus’ return in glory. Things were dragging on and
on and weren’t getting any better. If anything, they were getting worse: the
righteous were suffering, the poor were getting poorer and the wealthy were
prospering. Did God see this, they wondered? Did God care? James’ only
answer to them was to be patient like the farmer and the prophet. “Make your
hearts firm,” he said, “the Lord is coming.”
I wonder
if James’ advice worked. I’m guessing it got mixed reviews.
The gospel
gave us John the Baptist who definitely gets mixed reviews on patience. John
was patient to a point but he was certainly no poster boy for patience. He
was languishing in King Herod’s prison and tired of waiting, waiting for the
fulfillment of what he had preached and promised; waiting for the
long-awaited Messiah to do what he was supposed to do. John’s patience was
running out when he sent disciples to Jesus to ask him: “Are you the one who
is to come or should we look for another?” We can sympathize with John,
can’t we? I know I can.
But then I
need, and so do we all, to listen to Jesus’ answer. Reaching back to
Isaiah’s great prophecy spoken many hundreds of years earlier, Jesus offered
evidence that the prophecy was being fulfilled. In him. The blind were
seeing, he said, the lame walking, lepers were being cleansed, the deaf were
hearing, the dead were being raised, and the poor were having the good news
preached to them. And he added: “Blessed is the one who takes no offense at
me.” Was that Jesus’ gentle way of telling John to be patient? Maybe.
Now, ‘fast
forward’ to this moment. To our world, to this place, this time. If we had a
chance to ask Jesus a question I wonder if it would differ much from John’s
question, “Are you the one who is to come?” Our issues may be different from
the Baptist’s, but our question is largely the same: how can you be the One,
Lord, when so much is wrong with the world and with life in general?
Think of
our world, regularly convulsed by natural disasters. Think of the
record-setting, catastrophic floods in our river valleys this past week.
Think of the earthquakes around the world, the hurricanes, the volcanic
eruptions. “Are you the one who is to come, Lord?”
Think of the
disasters of our own making - wars, terrorism, random violence - and of our
reckless disregard for the environment. “Are you the one who is to come,
Lord?”
And think of our country that seems to be on life-support these
days with government shutdowns, name-calling, distortions of truth, elected
officials who will not dialogue or compromise. And think of the growing
disrespect for human life, human dignity, human rights, and even for the
rule of law. “Are you the one who is to come, Lord?”
And then there
are our own personal lives which are often far from serene: we struggle with
addictions, battle all kinds of illnesses, work hard to make ends meet,
sacrifice for our kids, care for aging parents, deal with family break-ups,
mourn the loss of loved ones. The Baptist’s question is our question, too:
“Are you the one who is to come or shall we look for another?”
And the
only answer we get is the one Jesus sent to John: “The blind see, the lame
walk, lepers are being cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are being raised,
and the poor are having the good news proclaimed to them.” That’s the
answer, my friends, and we need to translate it into this moment in time.
Our moment. Jesus is still accomplishing wonders like those. He is. How?
Through people like you and me. Through loving communities like ours:
through the Church which, of course, is you and me. He is working through us
to reach out and raise up, to heal and comfort, to love and forgive, to care
for and shelter, to bring good news to those in the shadows.
My
friends, John the Baptist is our ally, our Advent ally. His impatient
question from prison gives legitimacy to our impatience. He makes it okay
for us to question and to wonder. But during these Advent days, dark yet
pierced by hope, we can be grateful for the answer Jesus gave to John.
Steadily, quietly, imperceptibly, against all evidence, but with a momentum
that is irreversible because it is God’s momentum, the Kingdom of God is
being built. And God is depending on us to help build it!
Father Michael G. Ryan
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