Weekly HOMILY for December 12, 2010: Waiting to Be Freed

3rd Sunday of Advent, Cycle A
St. Margaret Church, Bel Air
December 12, 2010

Waiting to Be Freed
By (Rev. Msgr.) Nicholas P. Amato


PRISONS

John the Baptist is the perfect Advent figure. He is waiting for the coming – the Advent – of the Savior

In doing so, he is a mentor to us, showing us how to wait from a prison cell.

John’s imprisonment, a stone walled room in a cold basement, may be more obvious than ours. I’d like to suggest that our prison is more subtle, but no less real.

Each of us is limited to what our minds and senses can manage. Our families, our promises, our responsibilities, and our situation all in some way limit us.

Even if we enjoy them, these bonds nevertheless specify our movement to the same familiar, deeply grooved surroundings and patterns of behavior.

We are hemmed in by our social and cultural constraints.


LOOKING FOR HOPE

And in the midst of our confinements, like John the Baptist, we look for signs of hope or at least we seek indications of how things could be really different for us.

From the restricted vision inside our cell, we have no way of knowing (demonstrate blinders.) All we can do is look out the narrow slit that is our view of things and wonder.

Within our own personal history we see so many hopes dashed.

➢ Parents who didn’t seem to give us what we needed.

➢ Imperfections and faults that we just can’t seem to overcome.

➢ Not becoming the person we wanted very much to be.

➢ Careers that haven’t met our expectations.

➢ Where did we go wrong with our children?

➢ And the list goes on and on.


THE WAY OUT

We seem to have suffered so many failed saviors and broken dreams that we are tempted to lose hope in any savior, any dream.

Our experience however need not get us down. It can actually help us, for at last we understand some very important things:

➢ That nothing we already know (point to head) can save us

➢ That nothing we can do ourselves (swing arms back and forth) can save us

➢ That nothing within our own power (make a muscle) is strong enough to free us.

If we are to be saved, it must be by someone from outside creation sent into our world and that would be God – God, or someone sent by God with this special mission of liberation.

So with John in his prison of dashed hopes we too urgently ask Jesus, “Are you the One?”

And again with John and his followers, we are as unconvinced by the response they got from Jesus: “The sick are cured and the poor hear good news.”


IS THAT ALL?

That is the only sign we get and, frankly, it just doesn’t seem to be enough. So we think: “Is that all? Is this the great salvation we have waited centuries for: curing a few sick folks and listening to a preacher from Nazareth?”

I would suggest that perhaps our hopes are too small. We are looking for “daily pizza” (palm up cupped hand) instead of the “bread of eternal life” (hand open circling before me), that is, we want a short-term solution, rather than a long-term assurance.

So we may have waited for small saviors because we haven’t recognized our gigantic need.

Jesus did not come to save us from sickness or from failure or from pain. He saves us from the only two things (indicate with two digits) that are ultimately beyond our range of sight:

➢ Sin, which we cannot forgive and

➢ Death, which we cannot avoid.

And that is the Savior whom John and we await, the Savior we expect and hope for, the Savior we direly need.


CONCLUSION

The place to begin with our longing is: First, to recognize our gigantic need to overcome sin and death in our own lives.

The second, is to wait with trust and patience and with only four words on our lips and in our hearts: “Come, Lord Jesus. Come!”

I’d like to conclude with a little Advent exercise and invite you to be still for a moment:

➢ Think of your own sinfulness, things you’ve failed to do or live up to, as well as the things you’ve done to offend others. (Pause)

➢ Think now of your own view of death and what five minutes left to live would have you feeling. (Pause)

From this, our personal prison, let us say those four words twice over slowly together: “Come, Lord, Jesus. Come. Come, Lord, Jesus. Come.”