December 10, 2023
St. Francis of Assisi Church
Isa 40:1-5, 9-11; 2 Pt 3:8-14; Mk 1:1-8
“Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths” (Mk 1:3). It goes almost without saying: The path of life is rarely straight. The Prophet Isaiah and John the Baptist’s message is for people whose path goes through dark valleys, who get stuck in wastelands, who have days, even years that feel an uphill climb, and others when everything seems to be falling down. Life doesn’t come pre-programed with Google Maps or “Waze” to heaven. We have to choose which way to go.
“Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God” (Isa 40:1). God does not say to his people, “Be Comfortable.” You can be comfortable at home. But God’s people are on a journey; we are on a way. God gives comfort to those who dare to hope.
Some years back I took a journey called the Way of St. James, the Camino de Santiago. It is a five-hundred mile pilgrimage through the north of Spain that follows the legendary missionary route of the Apostle James. I did so at a time in life that I felt I had lost my way. I lacked direction. The way forward seemed at an impasse and my soul was not at peace. As you may know, my own vocation path to the priesthood was not, is not, always straight. I left seminary for a time, where I had some jobs, more or less successful. I had some relationships, more or less successful. Perhaps it was not all that extraordinary, just real.
As a message of comfort, I want to share two lessons, even truths if I may call them that, that I learned.
The first is this: God always makes a way.
Whenever I say, “There is no way,” God always makes a way. When I find myself in a dark valley, get stuck in a wasteland, ground down by the uphill climb, or things falling down, and that happens to me more than you might think, God makes a way. It’s just what God does. It’s the truth I find myself doubting often, but God always proves me wrong. I kick and I scream, and then God makes a way, and I feel a little foolish.
Advent is the season for people on the way. Advent reminds us that while you and I are not always faithful in our going, God is forever faithful in his coming. God always makes a way.
The second lesson follows the first: God always gives us companions for the way.
God does not make a way and then condemn us to walk the way alone. God always gives us companions for the way.
This is my Camino shell. Pilgrims on the Way of St. James wear a scallop shell to identify themselves to strangers and other pilgrims as an invitation to hospitality and company. The shell is a symbol of hope because hope is the virtue we need to keep going in adverse conditions on an arduous way toward a great goal. Advent is adventure. God may not give every gift I ask, but God always gives me companions to make the way bearable and believable. I think you may find it so as well.
In Christian tradition, the scallop shell became a symbol of baptism. Some baptismal fonts are shaped like a scallop shell, or the instrument to pour water shaped like a scallop shell. I use my scallop shell for baptisms. Baptism initiates us onto the Way of Jesus Christ. It is the beginning of the life of faith in us. Just yesterday I baptized a baby, Isabelle Nwamaka Ibeh, at St. Anthony of Padua. You and I have a new baby brother in Christ. Amen! Baptism is how God gives us companions on the Way, by making us into the Church. The first Christians referred to themselves simply as “The Way” (Acts 9:2; 19:9, 23; 22:4). To be baptized means we do not follow Jesus alone. John the Baptist prepared the way for Jesus by offering his disciples a baptism of water for the forgiveness of sins. Jesus baptizes us with the fire of the Holy Spirit. Jesus makes a way through our sin, our guilt, our shame. “May no earthly undertaking hinder those who set out in haste to meet your Son, but may our learning of heavenly wisdom gain us admittance to his company.”[1] Baptism is initiation God’s pilgrim Church on earth and a communion of saints in heaven.
You do not have to travel to a distant country like Spain to find companions. The way may be Harford and Belair Road. You were on it as you drove to Mass. Even now, the way brings us here, to the Eucharist, where we are “replenished by the food of spiritual nourishment” (Prayer After Communion). You may be here for the one-thousandth time. You may be here for the first time or the first time in a long time. Either way, we’re all on the way.
“A voice cries out:
In the desert prepare the way of the LORD!
Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!
Every valley shall be filled in,
every mountain and hill shall be made low;
the rugged land shall be made a plain,
the rough country, a broad valley” (Isa 40:3-5).
Advent is a season of comfort and joy when we remember that wherever we are on this broken road of life, God makes a way and God gives us companions for the way.
[1] Collect for the Second Sunday of Advent, The Roman Missal, Third Typical Edition. (Washington D.C.: United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, 2011), 146.
Preach it Fr. Ponton! Every moment we are on His way.