The Voice and the Way
Year A – Advent – 2nd Sunday
Matthew 3:1–12: “A voice crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord!”
The Gospel of the second Sunday of Advent takes us into the desert to meet John the Baptist and to listen to the particular message he has to deliver on behalf of the God-who-comes. The desert is not a place that attracts us, unless we visit it as tourists, equipped with comfort and security. Moreover, the figure of John does not immediately appear appealing. He is rough, not only in his manner of dress but especially in his words, which are almost aggressive. Yet we must meet him on our Advent journey. And after all, we must acknowledge that, although he is a rather unusual character, he is a special person — both for the kind of life he leads and for the freedom with which he speaks before political and religious authorities, which makes him a credible witness.
John, the son of a priest, had stripped himself of priestly garments and left the Temple to live in the desert, leading an austere life on the edge of survival. And “the word of God came to John, son of Zechariah, in the desert” (Lk 3:2). Then John began to preach: “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is close at hand!” These will later be the first words spoken by Jesus at the start of his ministry.
The prophets in Israel had been silent for a long time, and Israel hungered for the word of God. The rumour had spread that John was a prophet, and people flocked to him from everywhere. The simplicity and clarity of his message touched hearts and consciences, and all were baptised by him in the River Jordan, asking forgiveness for their sins.
People recognised in him the arrival of the Messenger foretold by Malachi, the last of the prophets: “See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me” (3:1).
Thus was fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah (40:3–5):
A voice cries out:
“In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord,
make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be lifted up,
every mountain and hill be brought low;
the uneven ground shall become level,
and the rough places a plain.
Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
and all flesh shall see it together,
for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”
Two words stand at the centre of the prophecy: VOICE and WAY.
The Voice is that of John — strong and powerful like thunder, fiery like that of Elijah, sharp like a double-edged sword (Heb 4:12). It announces the voice of the Messiah who, as the first reading says (Is 11:1–10), “shall strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth, with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked.” The appearance of this voice is already a gospel, a piece of good news. For all voices had been muffled, silenced, manipulated, bearers of falsehood. To hear that there is a new, free voice telling us the truth — even when it wounds us — is already a sign of hope.
“Prepare the way of the Lord!” The Lord’s way is the path that leads to Him, but above all the path that God travels to come to us. It is often a blocked road that must be cleared to make it passable.
The way is the image par excellence of the season of Advent. It is a symbol frequently found in the Bible. Let us remember that everything begins with Abraham’s journey, then that of the patriarchs, and of Moses who leads the people for forty years in the desert… Jesus himself, with his disciples, is always on the move, and the first Christians are called “the people of the Way”. Moreover, the way symbolises both the human condition — homo viator — and the believer, called to be part of a “Church that goes forth”, as Pope Francis liked to recall.
The prophet Isaiah (Deutero-Isaiah) was the architect, the road engineer, of the “way of the Lord”. John is the foreman. We must follow his instructions. Let us take up pickaxe, shovel, and spade. Yes, simple tools — for it is manual work, requiring time, perseverance, and patience. Following Isaiah’s plan, John gives us three main tasks:
“Every VALLEY shall be lifted up”: this is the first instruction. The evangelist Luke speaks of a ravine (3:5). It is the ravine of our DISCOURAGEMENT, into which we risk falling and becoming hopelessly trapped after so many attempts and failures. It is often a deadly danger, an abyss that buries all hope of human and spiritual progress. How can it be filled in? At times, it may seem almost impossible. What then? The only thing to do is to build a bridge — the bridge of hope in the “God of the impossible”. This is why Paul, in the second reading (Rom 15:4–9), invites us to “maintain HOPE alive”. Sometimes it means to “hope against all hope” (Rom 4:18), because “hope does not disappoint”… ever! (Rom 5:5).
“Every MOUNTAIN and hill shall be brought low”: this is the mountain of our PRIDE. Hill, mountain — sometimes even a massive peak difficult to climb. We get carried away with ourselves and imagine we are great. The “mountain” occupies the whole road, making it impassable. We must come down from our “heights” to make ourselves accessible — to God and to others. How many blows of the pickaxe are needed! How costly it is to become a flat valley where everyone may pass freely! Sometimes a bulldozer is needed to remove certain obstacles. It is the bulldozer of HUMILITY, sung by the Virgin Mary in her Magnificat. But let us not despise the small daily blows: a criticism accepted, an act of humble service, silence in the face of an unjust remark, a mistake that humiliates us… These will prepare us for the heavy bulldozer shovelfuls that life itself, sooner or later, will inflict upon us.
“The ROUGH GROUND shall become level and the rugged places a valley”: there are too many stones and brambles on the path, making travellers stumble and scratch themselves at every step. These are our DEFECTS and SINS, which often scandalise or wound others. Even here, unceasing work is needed, knowing full well that we will never completely succeed. Some sharp edges will stubbornly remain. Some brambles, cut back a hundred times, will spring up again each time, almost mocking our persistence. They are there to remind us that we cannot do without the MERCY of the Lord and of our brothers and sisters — and to remind us that we too must be merciful towards others. Paul reminds us again in the second reading: “Welcome one another, therefore, as Christ has welcomed you.”
These are the instructions of the foreman. A demanding task lies ahead. It is not a matter of doing a few small devotions, thinking ourselves good Christians in the style of the Pharisees and Sadducees who felt safe simply because they were children of Abraham. They too received baptism, but for many it was a mere formality, a superficial act. John, however, was not at all indulgent with them. He called them a “brood of vipers”. Let us beware lest he end up saying the same of us. And he adds: “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” This is serious: let us not take lightly this grace of Advent.
Fr Manuel João Pereira Correia, mccj
Fr. Manuel João, comboni missionary
Sunday Reflection
from the womb of my whale, ALS
Our cross is the pulpit of the Word
