The Treasure of the Word: Commentary on Biblical Readings for Sundays, Feast Days, and Solemnities, Cycle A

Advent

God advances towards his people and invites them to advance towards him.

Salvation is the meeting of God and man.

First Sunday of Advent

Vigilant in Expectation

Readings: Isa. 2: 1–5; Ps. 122: 1–9;

Rom. 13: 11–14; Matt. 24: 37–44

T his first Sunday of Advent begins with a great vision of a new era of blessings for all nations. Isaiah explains that the new era will be marked by a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the city of God, the city of rest (2: 2). The Son of God, Jesus of Nazareth, is the living city of God. In him we find rest from the toil and burdens of life (Matt. 11: 28).

In Jerusalem, according to the prophet, pilgrims will be instructed in the ways of God (2: 3), and when they leave, they will leave behind the old mentality of wars and return to their countries of origin as new creatures empowered to live like the children of God, for God has given them the best answer to the question, how do we resolve conflicts that threaten our private and social lives?

The answer is that knowledge of God and obedience to his commandments is the secret to harmony. God speaks to the human heart and persuades us to see that our stubborn human ways lead to death as he arbitrates between the voice of the Spirit in our hearts, seats of love and forgiveness, and the voice of Satan in our heads, seats of rationalisations and revenge. God’s promise from Isaiah is not a hoax. Prophet Isaiah’s vision is not a hallucination. The Spirit who hovered over the waters and created the world out of chaos is capable of melting hearts of stone and opening clenched fists. Echoes of God’s saving Word urging everyone to beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks (Isaiah 2: 4 NAB) still resound in space, in time, in history, in culture, in hearts, in families, and in decision-making chambers.

God wants his people never to use their thoughts and words as an arsenal against their brothers and sisters and instead urges his children to recycle destructive thoughts into constructive ones, to recycle words that wound into words that build and heal, and to transform war colleges into peace institutes. The vision of the prophet may sound unrealistic in a world where intimidating and destroying perceived enemies is a way to affirm supremacy, but the thoughts and ways of men destroy the world, whereas the thoughts and ways of God save. As long as men insist on walking in their own light, they will keep on stumbling, but those who walk in the light of the Lord, though they may appear naïve, are free and safe. The Psalmist understands this when he rejoices as he sings, Let us go to the house of the Lord! (Ps. 122: 1). There is no other house where we can learn the best philosophy or the most practical solution to interpersonal and societal issues.

In his letter to believers in Rome, Paul reminds his audience of the urgency of the moment and the importance of heeding the Word of God, telling them, You know what time is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep … Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light; let us live honourably as in the day, not in revelling drunkenness … not in quarrelling and jealousy (Rom. 13: 11–12). Darkness is the world of sinners, the unredeemed, the world in which we live. Those who stick to their ways, to their swords, to their art of war, to that mentality that opposes God’s way are asleep.

In Noah’s day, many people were living like the Romans Paul spoke to: deeply immersed in their business and duties, as if sleepwalking and lost in the daily struggles or joys and anxieties of life (Matt. 24: 37–38). Each one of us is Mr or Ms Lost, not fully realising that the Messiah is at the door urging us to let him in, urging us to enter the city of rest, urging us to drop our swords and spears.

We too share the habits of the contemporaries of Noah; we too are lost in our activities, in our anxieties, in our joys and sorrows, even in our religious activities, as we go to church instead of being living temples of the Holy Spirit and engage in other religious practices without experiencing the salvation that these practices anticipate.

Matthew urges believers to wake up and be ready to welcome the master of our household, the Lord of history. Believers stay awake and ready by laying aside the selfishness, greed, and revenge that are the works of darkness and putting on the compassion and love for others that is the armour of light (Rom. 13: 12), for this hour, now, today, is the time to walk in the light of the Lord (Isa. 2: 5).

Second Sunday of Advent

The Lord’s Herald

Readings: Isa. 11: 1–10; Ps. 72: 1–2, 7–8, 12–13, 17;

Rom. 15: 4–9; Matt. 3: 1–12

L ast Sunday, the community of faith was encouraged to be in vigilant expectation of the Messiah while attending to their daily needs, and the readings on this second Sunday of Advent present a picture of the Messiah-king. According to the first reading, he is a shoot from the family of David (Isa. 11: 1), a stump of our humanity, a branch of our common family tree. He is like us because he is human but also unlike us because he comes from above. In him dwell the powers of intellect and the gifts of piety. He has wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge of and delight in the Lord, and fear of the Lord (11: 2).

Those who receive him as King shall accrue the following blessings: knowledge of the ways of God and the antics of the devil, restoration of harmony, and taming of their animal nature, like that of wolves, leopards, oxen, and cobras. The Psalmist expresses hope for the reign of the Son of David: In his days may righteousness flourish, and peace abound (Ps. 72: 7).

God prepares the hearts of his people for the coming of the King through the voice of the prophets. According to Matthew, In those days, John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near’ (3: 2). There was, there is, and there will always be John the Baptists in the wilderness of our private and public lives, in our political, economic, social, and moral worlds, calling us to repent in the presence of the kingdom of God. We confront them in the deserts of our world: in places of temptation and indecision, places where we’re confronted with our unfaithfulness, places where we are encouraged to confront our inner demons, places of rebirth.

John the Baptist was, and remains, an eccentric. The desert of Judaea was his preferred place for preaching, an arid place known for its scorching heat and where most bandits sought refuge. To talk in the desert is to talk to no one. Ironically, John preached in the desert because the solitude of the desert is the best place to listen to one’s inner voice, the voice of the Spirit. In this way, John the Baptist is a symbol of a new beginning. In the words of Paul, John is an example of those who were helped by God because they did not give up hope (Rom. 15: 4–5). God is the content of genuine hope; to cling to hope is to cling to God.

Matthew describes John the Baptist as dressing in camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist and his food was locusts and wild honey (Matt. 3: 4). The leather belt was a sign of readiness to respond to divine call to gird your loins and light your lamps like the ten virgins (Luke 12: 35 NAB). John the Baptist wore this belt and was himself a light that bore witness to the true light (John 1: 6–7).

In the transition from the era of the prophets to the era of the Son of God, John’s ascetic life was a symbol of the renunciation of the mentality and lifestyle that rebelled against God, as John renounced those things that held the people’s attention and kept them away from the ways of the Lord, for he recognised that the world does not hate God but that people commit sin, reject God, and disobey his commandments out of ignorance. John the Baptist reminds us that the world is not totally deaf, that some people do listen to the preaching of the prophets, and genuine prophets like him have genuine messages to prick people’s hearts. Matthew writes that the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan … and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins (Matt. 3: 5–6).

In the vast desert of life, people are drawn to prophets and teachers with genuine message of hope and forgiveness and to prophets and teachers who embody what they preach.

To those around, John seemed stern. His message sounded challenging, and his discipline appeared rigorous, yet people made their way to him. John’s life is an example, a challenge, and an invitation, but it is a warning too. John was harsh to the Pharisees and Sadducees: You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the retribution that is coming? Bear fruit worthy of repentance (Matt. 3: 7). This speech teaches us that the gospel is not just a statement of defence or compromise but can also wear the tone of forceful reproach.

John is the great herald of the Lord. He is also the precursor of all Christian preachers. John’s life was part of his message. Preachers in the desert of the world today similarly need the faith, zeal, courage, and asceticism of John.

Every believer is a precursor of the Lord; they are called and sent out into the world to prepare their lives for God and to help their neighbours prepare for God by welcoming one another, just as Christ has welcomed them, for the glory of God (Rom. 15: 5–6). Christians are those who have met Christ and who lead others to Christ. Christians are those whose lives proclaim the saving presence of God in the world.

Third Sunday of Advent

John’s Image of the Messiah and Question

Readings: Isa. 35: 1–6, 10; Ps. 146: 6–10; Isa. 35: 4;

Jas. 5: 7–10; Matt. 11: 2–11

I n the first reading this Sunday, the prophet speaks of the transformations that will accompany the Babylonian exiles upon their return: the wilderness shall blossom with life, the weak shall be strengthened, the blind shall see, the deaf shall hear, and the mute shall speak (Isa. 35: 1–2, 5–6, 10).

These words were fulfilled in Jesus. In his person, heaven and earth embraced, and the glory of God became manifest. Through him, exiles of sin were welcomed back, the eyes of the blind were opened, the ears of the deaf opened, and the tongues of the mute were released. Jesus subdued the desert Israel had become because it deprived itself of irrigation from the waters of the law, and he restored it to fertility like Carmel (known for its fruits and cereals), Sharon (known for its rich pastures), and Lebanon (famous for its splendid cedars and running waters). While in the exile of sin, the people had prayed, Lord, come and save your people (Isa. 35: 4), and in Jesus of Nazareth, God answered this prayer.

Jesus himself and his activities attracted attention, curiosity, and questions. This man from Nazareth, the Son of Mary, claimed to be one with the Father; his teaching was different from that of the Scribes, and his manner of talking about God was totally new. He presented God as having compassion for sinners and giving them a second chance and described the kingdom of God as not a place to get into but as something already present in his words and actions. He replaced the apocalyptic eschatology that God would rid the world of evil by destroying those who broke his commandments with the ethical eschatology that God invites human beings to cooperate with him in the redemption of the world. This version of Jesus’s eschatology taught that human beings are incarnations of the creative and healing Spirit and ambassadors of God, and as such, they can multiply love, compassion, forgiveness, and solidarity.

A popular image of the Messiah was as one who would set prisoners free. And there was John, the herald of the Messiah, languishing in prison! Does God forsake his own, those who work and suffer for his name? Does God not care about the fate of those who love him and promote his cause? Was Jesus the One, the Real Messiah preached by John?

From prison, John the Baptist heard about Jesus’s teachings and actions and his meek and humble demeanour, and these did not match John’s image of God and redemption, as John believed that sinners would be purged with the Messiah’s winnowing fan of judgement, so he sent word by his disciples to ask Jesus, Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another? (Matt. 11: 3). John’s sending his disciples to ask Jesus himself whether he was indeed the Messiah was proper, as John wanted to clear all doubts before making the leap of faith.

John’s question to Jesus is the question of this Advent; it is the question at the centre of faith. There are times when Jesus does not fit the image we have of him. There are times when he seems strange, odd, disappointing, or even scandalous. There are times when he seems far away, indifferent, stern, uncomfortable, or weak. There are times Jesus breaks out of the mould of our faith, theology, dogma, doctrine, and spirituality. At these times, we are all like John and wonder whether Jesus is the Messiah, whether he is the answer to our deepest yearning, or whether we have got to wait for someone else. Advent, the beginning of a new liturgical year, is a time for us re-evaluate our ideas of God, of salvation, and of good and evil and to decide on a new beginning.

Jesus did not give John’s disciples a straight yes or no. Rather, he pointed to his words and actions: Go back and tell John what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life, and the Good News is proclaimed to the poor (Matt. 11: 4–5). The Lord’s answer means that Isaiah’s words are no longer a dream or wish. The disciples of John then reported back to their master, who in turn drew conclusions about and told them who Jesus was and that Jesus’s presence among men is the fulfilment of prophecy.

The Lord is present in his works. The Lord’s presence makes things happen. Drawing a conclusion of who Jesus is as John did is a task that every believer has to undergo for her- or himself. Faith in Jesus is a personal decision.

Jesus concluded his answer to John’s disciples with a mild warning: and blessed is the man who does not lose faith in me (Matt. 11: 6). Blessed indeed is the man who does not lose faith because of the allure of what is foreign, extraordinary, or flashy, and blessed is he who is not a prisoner of his faith, doctrine, or image of God. Blessed is he who does not fail to appreciate, read, and interpret the message of this hour. Blessed is he who is not scandalised by God’s ways. Blessed is he who accepts God exactly the way God is without desiring to change God. Jesus mildly rebukes John via his disciples.

To John’s disciples, however, Jesus praised John as more than a prophet … Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist (Matt. 11: 11). John was not a reed swayed by the wind of public opinion, fame, or financial game. He was not an opportunist, a fashion icon, a pop star, or a socialite. John was a prophet who focused on the essential and not on the superfluous. His lifestyle was a return to the basics of faith and religious practice. John was God’s instrument. He freely allowed himself to serve God’s purpose. John did not use God for personal gain; rather, he showed the Messiah to those who gathered around him. John was an ideal messenger of God, but John was a man of God, one who spoke with God and about God, and one who encouraged people to confront their false gods, change their attitudes, and embrace the reign of grace. John was a real prophet. Indeed, of all people born of women, none equal John.

The Fourth Sunday of Advent

A Sign from God

Readings: Isa. 7: 10–14; Ps. 24: 1–10;

Rom. 1: 1–7; Matt. 1: 18–24

L ast Sunday’s readings remind believers that God is bigger than any picture they have of him and that he breaks out of every mould into which people try to put him. The readings of this Sunday emphasise God’s faithfulness to his promise to be the God of his people even when the people continually break faith with God. In the first reading, King Ahaz of Judah and members of his cabinet, faced with the threat of invasion from the allied forces of Syria and the northern kingdom of Israel, agreed on a politically expedient compromise with the enemy that amounted to breaking faith with God. The prophet Isaiah tried to dissuade the king from following through with the pact and offered the king a sign that everything would eventually turn out successfully anyway, but the king piously refused this sign (Isa. 7: 10–12).

The dialogue between Isaiah and Ahaz has universal significance. There are times when we think, plan, and manage the affairs of our lives like Ahaz did, and we refuse to learn or care what God’s will is, when we do not want to be bothered by God and his plans. But human stubbornness does not prevent God from speaking and sending signs of his presence, as Isaiah reminded Ahaz, saying that despite human unwillingness to be moved by God, God would continually send signs of his presence – that he would give a personal sign to Ahaz not just a sign of deliverance from hostile forces but of his permanent presence even in the midst of the threats from these forces in the form of the birth of the Son of God by a maiden: Look, the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a Son who she will call Immanuel, … God-is-with-us (Isa. 7: 14 NJB). This child’s birth would mean the continuity of Ahaz’s name and reign and safety from the threat of annihilation.

Today’s Gospel reading is an account of the fulfilment of the prophecy of Isaiah. Jesus is the supreme child of promise. He is not the product of human history, the fruit of Joseph and Mary’s marital union. Rather, Jesus is the result of divine intervention into humanity. He is the gift of divine love.

Joseph’s reaction to Mary’s pregnancy by the Holy Spirit is interesting. As Joseph struggled with the decision about leaving Mary, God intervened and told him to go through with marrying Mary, explaining that there were more options than Joseph had thought. Joseph’s decision to marry Mary was no longer his private decision but a response of faith to the command of God. Joseph’s living with Mary then became a mission from God. Joseph was called to defend the sanctity of Mary and Jesus’s legitimacy as the Son of David. Joseph accepted God’s opinion in a drama he did not fully understand.

Joseph left Mary untouched for God. This decision was an act of deep faith because he knew he needed to reserve the seat of the great sign of salvation for God alone. Joseph did not tread where God trod; he refrained from touching what God had taken for himself; he desisted from occupying a place God had reserved for himself. Joseph treated the place where God dwelt as holy and worthy of reverential distance. Joseph’s reverential withdrawal from Mary was a profession of faith. Only a just man, only a man of faith, could act like Joseph. God himself, who intervened when King Ahaz and his royal cabinet decided to compromise, intervened when Joseph considered the idea of leaving Mary. Ahaz and Joseph represent those who don’t accept God’s opinion and those who do.

In presenting Jesus’s genealogy, Matthew includes the names of four women, Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba, Uriah’s wife. The Old Testament describes these women as foreigners and says that three of them had sinful backgrounds. That they are foreigners indicates that Jesus’s birth has significance for all humanity, and that they had sinful backgrounds means that Jesus comes from and for a sinful humanity. The Son of God redeemed the humanity he assumed when he became the Son of Mary, Jesus of Nazareth, the carpenter. By coming into a sinful lot, Jesus chose solidarity with every person. Christmas is the celebration of the fact that God is part of every person’s history and is on the side of every person.

Christmas: Night Mass

The Light of Men

Readings: Isa. 9: 2–7; Gen. 1: 1–2; Ps. 96: 1–4, 11–13;

Luke 2: 11; Titus 2: 11–14; Luke 2: 1–16

T he liturgy of this solemn night recalls the condition of nothing before it became ‘something’ through the creative act of God. Before God’s creative intervention, earth was like night: dark, cold, deadly silent, and absent of life. The author of the book of Genesis described this situation thus: Now the earth was a formless void, there was darkness over the deep, with a divine wind sweeping over the waters (1: 2 NJB).

God brought about Christmas to re-create man in his own image after it became deformed by sin. Isaiah describes the world in which the Son of God, Jesus of Nazareth, was born as being without light, and says that the Son of God born among men will be the light shining in the darkness. The prophet also describes the world in which Jesus was born as being without a clear idea of God and itself, hence living in bondage. For the prophet, the coming in the flesh of the Son of God would be a great difference in the world: The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them has light shined (Isa. 9: 2).

The Son of God, born into a world of darkness and shadows, is what the human soul secretly yearns for because to people living in the shadow of doubt, he is certainty. To people living through conflicts and wars, he is the Prince of Peace. To people who are hurting, he is healing. To people living with addiction, he is meaning. To people struggling with confusion, he is a wonderful counsellor. To people ruled and oppressed by dictators and gods, he is a mighty Saviour. To people floating aimlessly in the fluctuations of life, he is the eternal Father. To people oppressed by guilt, he is a liberator. To those entangled in a vicious circle of sin, the Son given to men at Christmas is salvation.

God the Father plunged his Son, who freely chose to be plunged, into the depth of human sin, weakness, struggle, pain, anxiety, hope, fears, and tears. He was born into the darkness and shadows of our lives in order to bring us into the light of the good news that help has come from outside ourselves and our world and to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves: to forgive our sins and give us the grace to do what is right. The birth of Jesus is the fulfilment of the words of Isaiah. The message of Christmas is that God descended to our level in order to raise us to his level. The gospel of Christmas is that God so loved the world that he chose to become a human creature. Jesus went through human experience totally dependent on God and taught every person to do the same. The coming of the Son of God in the flesh gave the world a new name, the Lord’s delight (Isa. 62: 2).

The Psalmist invites his community to celebrate the presence of the wonderful counsellor, mighty Saviour, eternal Father, Prince of Peace, light of hope with a special melody, a new song. Christmas is God’s act of love, a masterpiece, a salvific gesture that calls for an original response in the form of a new spirit, a new song, a new dance, a new life, a new resolution to love. It is a new impetus to imitate God, another reason to believe God’s Word and promise. The new song suggested by the Psalmist is to be sung and danced in all the pathways and highways of our world, in all our squares and on all our corners, for the gospel of Christmas cannot be kept hidden. God’s marvellous work and glory are present in our joys and sorrows, in our hopes and anxieties, in our health and sickness, in our successes and failures, in our life and death. They are to be declared loudly.

The birth of the Son given to men at Christmas is the revelation of God’s grace and wonderful light to the whole human race (Titus 2: 11). Jesus is the grace of God, the gift of salvation that equips believers to make healthy choices. Believers do not discover Jesus by their own power; he is revealed to them. The revelation of Jesus happened at the time Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be made of the whole inhabited world (Luke 2: 1). Joseph, a just man, obeyed the decree and went to Bethlehem to be registered with Mary, who was pregnant. Because the town was overcrowded with people who had travelled there for the census, it was difficult to get accommodation, and when Mary’s time came, the Son given to men at Christmas was born in an animal’s feeding trough.

The story of the birth of Jesus during the census organised by Quirinius is a theological masterpiece woven to emphasise Jesus’s relevance to the political and social lives of institutions and individuals. Jesus was born in the town of Bethlehem, of a descendant of David. It is now time for him to be born in the Bethlehem of every heart, every family, every community and institution. God ordained his Son to be born at the moment of the census conducted by Quirinius in order to teach men to enrol God in the registers of their lives, to count God first in the ordering of their priorities. I hope Quirinius and his officers understood this, for the census would be the most important political programme any leadership on earth ever conducted if the officials recognised