Thought for the week - 15 December 2024

Advent
Today we celebrate Gaudete Sunday, a moment in Advent where the mood shifts, where the purple of penitence softens into rose, and the pink candle flickers with the light of joy.

The word Gaudete comes from St. Paul’s words: “Rejoice in the Lord always.” It’s a moment of joy breaking through the sombreness of the season, a reminder that Christ is near and that God’s promise is unfolding right before us. And yet, it might not always feel that way. Joy, after all, can seem elusive, particularly in times of challenge or uncertainty.

The other day, I received a text that presented something of a dilemma. I’d been in touch with a customer services helpline to sort out a bill, and after the call, they sent me one of those feedback texts: “Based on your experience today, how much would you score the person who assisted you?” Many of us have been there, haven’t we? The person had been polite and efficient enough, but it all felt very scripted, even a bit frustrating at times. I started wondering how they might feel if they received my feedback of a “just OK” response. And then the thought struck me: What if someone gave me similar feedback on how I’d done in church on Sunday?

This small, everyday moment reveals something much bigger. It’s not just about doing a job well or poorly. It’s about the heart behind what we do. Sometimes, we go through the motions in life, whether it’s in work, our roles or relationships. We tick the boxes, but our hearts aren’t fully engaged. The difference between a merely “sufficient” response and one that’s truly heartfelt is connection, and authenticity.

Warmth and genuine care shine through. In the way people engage with us, we feel seen, valued, and appreciated. It’s not about doing the bare minimum; it’s about doing something with love and attention.

In today’s Gospel, John the Baptist invites the people to a kind of engagement that goes beyond the surface. The crowds, sensing something important, come to him asking, “What then shall we do?” And John’s response isn’t abstract; it’s deeply practical. He tells them to share what they have, to act with justice, to avoid exploiting others. He calls them to a heartfelt way of living, where their inner transformation shapes their outward actions. It’s not enough to simply go through the motions. John’s message is clear: real repentance touches the heart and flows into how we treat one another.

This kind of transformation is what Advent is all about. It’s not just about waiting; it’s about preparing, really preparing our hearts. Ancient Advent traditions, such as the O Antiphons, sung in the final days before Christmas, echo this call to preparation. These prayers, rich with titles for Christ like Wisdom, Emmanuel, and Key of David, give voice to the deep longings of God’s people. Each antiphon invites Christ to come into our lives, unlocking doors of justice and peace, bringing light to darkness, and drawing us into the fullness of His love.

John’s call to repentance is not a harsh reprimand but a hopeful invitation. He’s not saying, “You’re not good enough.” He’s saying, “There’s more for you, a deeper joy, a fuller life, a truer way of being.” This is the joy of Gaudete Sunday. It’s the joy of knowing that Christ is coming and, with Him, the possibility of a new kind of life.

For the early Christian communities, particularly those hearing Luke’s Gospel, this message would have resonated powerfully. They lived in anticipation, under the weight of persecution and hardship, yet clung to the promise that Christ’s return was near. The joy they felt wasn’t tied to the ease of their circumstances; it came from a deep sense that God’s Kingdom was breaking into the world, even in the midst of their struggles. They understood what John meant: joy isn’t something we wait passively for. It’s something we participate in, something we prepare for by opening our hearts and living with justice, kindness, and integrity.

When the people came to John and asked, “What then shall we do?” they weren’t just looking for tasks to complete. They were searching for a way to prepare their hearts. And John gave them answers rooted in daily life. “Share with those who have none,” he said. “Don’t take advantage of others. Be content with what you have.” These are simple instructions, but they are profound. They remind us that our faith is not just about lofty ideals or abstract principles; it’s about how we live every day. The poetic cries of the O Antiphons, “O Wisdom,” “O Root of Jesse,” “O Emmanuel,” are active calls for God’s saving presence to break into our world. They remind us that joy isn’t abstract; it’s rooted in the nearness of Christ and the transformation He brings.

For us, too, the call is the same. Advent isn’t just a time to prepare for the secular festivities of Christmas; it’s a time to prepare for Christ. And that preparation isn’t just about what we do externally, but about how we open our hearts to God’s presence. Like the difference between a perfunctory act of customer service and one filled with genuine care, our spiritual lives, too, can be transformed when we engage fully, when we live with an openness to God’s grace.

Joy comes when we are united with God, when we live in harmony with His will. In our modern world, where so much of life can feel rushed and surface-level, John’s message speaks to us still. It invites us to slow down, to reflect, to ask ourselves, “What then shall we do?” And the answer, as it was for those who heard John’s voice in the wilderness, is found in the way we live: by caring for others, by acting justly, by opening our hearts to God’s transformative presence.

Gaudete PrayerLord Jesus, source of our joy,draw near to our hearts this Advent.Turn our repentance into renewal,our waiting into wonder, and our lives into a reflection of Your love. Amen.