Preparation and Peace

READINGS: Baruch 5:1-9; Philippians 1:4-6, 8-11; Luke 3:1-6

If you haven’t heard of the prophet Baruch before, don’t worry: he doesn’t appear in the Protestant Bible at all.  Last week we started with Jeremiah, and this week we start with Baruch: Jeremiah’s “secretary” during the Babylonian exile.  Nobody’s really sure that Baruch even wrote this book, but the message it contains is no less relevant to our Advent season.

Jeremiah may have nudged the Israelites back to God, but this reading is a rallying cry.

Remember, these are people in exile.  They’ve been taken from their home, and stripped of their identity.  In Old Testament times (and even in the time of Jesus), it was commonly believed that bad things happened to bad people.  If these people were in slavery, it was because they put themselves there.  Imagine carrying the weight of that guilt, and the dismal realization that there is no going back home: no hope that your God will ever smile on you again.

And Baruch basically says, “Stop wallowing in your own self-pity.  There is hope!  Your freedom is coming!”  He tells the Israelites that they will be reunited with their scattered brethren.  And to top it all off, he makes it clear that it is God who is going to do this: God has not forsaken them!

It’s by God’s will that “every lofty mountain be made low,” so that Israel can be made a great nation once more.  He even tells them to don the “mitre that displays the glory of the eternal name.”  For those who may not know, a mitre is a headdress traditionally worn by bishops.  It’s a symbol of holy rank.  With this, Baruch is almost re-christening the Israelites: anointing them once more as a holy nation.

Baruch tells us two things: that God wants peace for our hearts, and that he has prepared a way for us to return to Him.

Think about the guilt we carry with us every day.  It weighs us down.  Sometimes it’s the guilt of sin.  Every week we ask forgiveness for our shortcomings “in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do.”  Sometimes it is the guilt of hurting another person, or perhaps driving them away from us or from God.  We ask ourselves how we could ever be forgiven by anyone, let alone God, who must have much higher standards than any human heart.

But God’s heart is not human.  God’s heart is eternal.  And in that we find a never-ending wellspring of forgiveness for ourselves.  And through grace, God moves both our hearts, and the hearts of others, toward forgiveness.  God invites us to overcome the weight of our guilt and sin: to repent, to forgive, and to walk with each other again as images of Christ renewed.  By rejoining ourselves to each other, we rejoin ourselves to God.

Paul’s Letter to the Philippians echoes these sentiments.  This letter was written from prison, shortly after Paul had faced almost certain death.  There’s an intimacy in this letter that’s not felt in his other epistles, and many attribute that to the fact that he had almost died.  For Paul, that kind of put things in perspective (I imagine it would for anyone).  It helped him see that all-too cliche “big picture.”  It helps Paul realize what’s really important: continuing his mission to bring Christ’s salvation to all people…and seeing that mission fulfilled in those he writes to.

Paul prays that the Philippians will also see the “big picture”.  Maybe it’s the close brush with death that infuses this letter with the theme of the end times and “the day of Christ.”  Whatever the reason, he prays that when that day comes, their hearts may be virtuous and pure, free of sin, so that they can stand “blameless” before Jesus when the time of judgment arrives.

I can’t help but think of Breaking Bad’s Walter White: a mild-mannered school teacher whose world is turned upside down when he finds out he has cancer and an estimated 18 months to live.  Suddenly the only thing that matters to Walt is the financial security of his family after he’s gone.  Obviously, brewing and selling illegal drugs isn’t the smartest solution, but it goes to show that once we know what’s really important to us, there is nothing that can keep us from attaining it…no matter how unorthodox the method.

How far are we willing to go to prepare for the salvation that is waiting for us?

It’s the same message, just through a different filter.  The Israelites were called to conversion to reunite their people.  The Philippians are called to stand fast in their faith.  Both readings promise a salvation: one is on a personal level, the other on a national level.  Israel is called to a pilgrimage: a journey back to God.  Paul is asking how we will feel about ourselves when we find Him.

And finally, we have the well-known story of John the Baptist.  There’s some debate as to why Luke starts this by establishing the rulers of the time.  Some say it’s because—in a time when Christians were still under a great deal of scrutiny by Roman officials—the naming of those in power was to show that Christians weren’t completely ignorant of the earthly law and order…that they were good citizens.  Others argue that Luke might be contrasting the earthly power with the heavenly power that was to come.

John the Baptist is a modern-day prophet.  What’s interesting here is that, unlike the Old Testament prophetic books, Luke is not speaking as a prophet himself, but rather of a prophet.  It sets a very different tone for the narrative: we’re not talking about something that may or may not happen.  We’re looking at something that is happening.  He even puts a prophet’s words in John’s mouth with a quote from Isaiah.  This sounds a lot like God’s promise to the Israelite’s from Baruch, and that’s deliberate.  The promise that was made generations before is about to be fulfilled.  John, of course, is calling us to make straight the paths of our hearts.

All three readings sing the same song of turning away from the things that separate us from each other and from God.  

They also remind us that we stand before God every hour of every day, not just on Sundays.  It must have been incredibly difficult for the prophets to make the Israelites feel as though God’s promise was real when they had spent so many years in slavery.  It must have been difficult for early followers of Christ to keep the flame of faith alive when the world persecuted them for it.  It must have been a lot of work for John to infuse each heart he encountered with the promise of a baby that hadn’t been born yet.

God is not only present for us, but for all, even if they don’t know it.  It’s only after we throw off the burden of our own guilt and sin that we can find the peace he offers us in Jesus—and then bring that peace others.

DISCLAIMER: I am not an ordained member of the Catholic church.  All opinions here are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Catholic church.  This is just one layman's opinion.  Relax!