Third Sunday of Advent (Fr. Robsinson)

​     Do any of you remember that ketchup commercial?  Rich, thick ketchup takes an inordinate amount of time to ooze out of a bottle.  Pounding the bottle fails to make the substance move any faster.  Meanwhile, a child sits expectantly awaiting the ketchup’s arrival.  The music in the background: “Anticipation.”
 
     That commercial doesn’t exist any more; the technology has changed.  Squeeze bottles have rendered waiting for your ketchup unnecessary.  Delayed gratification is a thing of the past. 
 
     We’ve gotten spoiled, haven’t we?  It’s not just ketchup.  You can throw your clothes into a washer and let it do the work while you’re doing something else.  The same goes for the dirty dishes after dinner. 
 
     In 1849 it took 166 days to travel coast to coast by stagecoach.  By the 1860s it took 60 days. A decade later it took a train 11 days.  In 1923, an airplane did it in 26 hours, but by 1975, a plane travelled coast to coast in five hours.  Today, the Space Shuttle does it in 8 minutes!
 
     We don’t much like to wait.  This applies to our faith as well.  Possibly you’re familiar with the prayer, “Lord, give me patience, and give it to me now!”
 
     Perhaps this attitude toward waiting is what causes Advent not to be universally appreciated.  Advent’s a season of waiting, of expectation, of anticipation.  We await the celebration of the birth of Jesus until the 25th; we look for the coming of Christ at the end of time.  We wait.  We prepare. 
 
     One of the prominent figures in helping us to prepare is John the Baptist.  Even though he was a prophet some 2000 years ago, the way he prepared for the first coming of the Messiah gives an excellent model for how we should prepare to receive Christ at Christmas as well as when he comes again to judge the living and the dead.  So let’s imagine for a minute that you’re part of the crowd that went out to the wilderness to hear him.  You’ve heard that this prophet might have something to say that will help make some sense of life, which too often seems more than a little senseless.
 
     You live your life pretty much the same as everyone else.  You make a living that keeps body and soul together and then some.  Most people think that you’ve got it “together.”  But there’s still an urge that tells you you’re missing something, something that makes everything else make sense.  So you’ve come to hear this man John, who just might have the key.
 
     You feel a little timid, maybe a bit foolish, because here you are, a self-respecting citizen, going to the riverbank to hear a man dressed in camel’s hair, with a leather girdle around his waist, whose diet consists of locusts and wild honey.  In your saner moments you might have written him off!
 
     He begins to preach.  His first words are, “You brood of vipers!”  (This isn’t getting off to a very good start!).  “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?  Bear fruits that befit repentance… Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”
 
     You’ve forgotten your anger at John about how he’s spoken to you.  You’re wondering what you can do to bear fruit. What impossible feat is he going to expect you to do in order to satisfy God’s anger?
 
     John’s answer to you: “He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none; he who has food, let him do likewise.”  In other words, “Prepare for the coming of Christ by responding to the needs of those around you, and do what is within your power to fill those needs.”
 
     The problem John paints is gigantic—a matter of life and death, yet his answer seems mundane.  He doesn’t tell the tax collectors and Roman soldiers to give up their hated professions; he doesn’t suggest taking up a dramatic lifestyle like his own.  He simply says, “Share out of your abundance; be responsive to the needs of others, don’t cheat or abuse others in your businesses.
 
     Such a dramatic problem and such a simple solution!  Yet, it’s the ordinary situations in life that give us the most difficulty in leading moral, faithful lives.  Scripture’s clear.  Our relationship with our heavenly Father is directly related to how we treat our neighbor.  Being prepared to receive Christ, whenever he comes, depends in part upon how we care for those in need—physical, mental, spiritual, or emotional need.
 
     I’m preaching to the choir.  You are sensitive to the needs of others.  You are generous with your time, your talent, and your money for the needs of the Church and for the needs of others.  You know the requirements of the Gospel and you seek to fulfill them.  But, you know, I suspect you’re rather like the people who went to hear John the Baptist.  The ones who probably needed to hear him the most wouldn’t take the time to do that.  So, in a sense, I suspect he was preaching to the choir, too. 
 
     Each of us needs to be reminded of these truths, and let’s face it, probably most of us could be more responsive to need than we are.  Furthermore, each of us has something in our lives that is resistant to the Gospel, something that is indeed very basic.  If we’re going to be prepared to receive Christ, that something is what needs to be dealt with.  And that, my brothers and sisters, is the hard part.  By the grace of God, only you know what that something is and only you can deal with it, by the grace of God,
 
     When we all do that, as a community of faith, Jesus Christ shines through us.  I need this time of anticipation in order to be prepared and I hope you will join me in making the most of this holy season of Advent.