It was like the end of the world; the suffering was unbearable, and the only way of dealing with such a tragedy was to scream her lungs out. Or – as seen from the toddler’s parent’s perspective – the girl tripped over her feet while trying to run forward and bumped into the ground. No lasting damage was done, there was no need to call the air ambulance. A hug and some consoling words did the job. I remember my mum gently blowing at my “life-changing injuries”, pretending it would ease the pain. It worked miracles, though as an adult, I understand it was medically as effective as homoeopathy. Nevertheless, even as adults, we need consolation and support when life throws challenges and troubles at us. Many find it in their religious faith, and there are good reasons for that.
“Console my people, console them – says your God. Speak to the heart of Jerusalem and call to her.” The opening line in today’s first reading was a beautifully poetic, very moving and soothing message to the Judaean exiles in Babylon who had been forcefully moved from their homeland some years earlier. The collective and personal loss of their land had been seen as a punishment for falling short of their obligations and unfaithfulness to the covenant with God. Having failed to heed the prophets sent to them and repent, they had been stripped of their promised land and subjugated to foreign powers. Based on my experience of growing up in a country overridden by the Soviet Union, I understand the ancient Judaean exiles’ sense of injustice, sadness and hopelessness. I guess the entire message addressed to them and encapsulated in the phrase “console my people, console them” might have been met with a mix of joy, hope and incredulity. It’s a bit like emerging from a dark place into the overwhelming light when the eyes hurt, and we frantically blink and cover them with our hands. Free at last!
Interestingly, the supposed mass exodus from Babylon and back to the Holy Land turned out to be more of a trickle. It was easy to fall for the initial euphoria, but soon, more realistic calculations had to be made, weighing up the pros and cons. Having lived in exile for two or three generations in relatively peaceful prosperity that provided some small comforts and a sense of stability, it wasn’t an easy decision to make for a new land; as we say: “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush”. This proverb actually shows that the ancient Israelites weren’t unique in that respect. It is in human nature to stick with meagre security and safety rather than venture into the unknown, in search of a prospective but uncertain greater prosperity. This is the challenge we face in our spiritual lives, too – any real change virtually always carries a risk of unintended consequences, some of them quite painful. On the other hand, the reluctance to make necessary changes can lead to even greater and unpleasant complications. No wonder sometimes our lives get entangled; in some cases, people’s lives resemble a Gordian Knot.
“Prepare a way for the Lord; make his paths straight.” This phrase, used to describe St John the Baptist’s mission and taken from today’s first reading, is often seen as the Advent slogan, the main message of the season. Do you see anything strange in this call? It’s a very common belief, even among non-believers who use it as an argument against religion, that “god” is supposed to sort out the mess of our own making, preferably pain-free and without any unpleasant consequences. It doesn’t work like that. God’s two greatest gifts to each of us are reason and will, interconnected and working hand in hand. If God violated them, even for our own good, that would mean the end of the loving relationship and replacing it with slavery. The freedom given to us out of love is so great that it allows us to turn our backs on God. Counterintuitively, He doesn’t hand out punishment for our trespasses or disloyalty. Sometimes, a “punishment” comes as a result of our sins – for example, like a liver damaged by excessive alcohol consumption – but it’s never meted out by God. “The Lord […] is being patient with you all, wanting nobody to be lost and everybody to be brought to change his ways”, as we heard in the second reading.
“Prepare a way for the Lord; make his paths straight.” Do we need God then if we have to do the heavy lifting ourselves? My answer is yes. God gives us the goal and helps us along the way. Let me give an example. Not long ago, I was travelling to Aberdeen along the convenient A96 until the last stretch between Blackburn and Dyce, where it closed. A single signpost pointed towards a diversion that took me through the countryside, along narrow and winding lanes with no more signposts to lead me back to Aberdeen. It was getting dark, and I didn’t have the slightest idea where I was. So, I shouted at my satnav (that’s what you do) to give me directions to my destination. Suddenly, like a crying toddler in his mum’s arms, I found consolation in a thin blue line on the screen and a soothing female voice telling me to turn right in five hundred yards. I still had to do the driving along the hellishly narrow and bendy roads, still having no clue where I was. But I was on my way to salvation! I mean, my destination… I even made it there without being late!
“Prepare in the wilderness a way for the Lord. Make a straight highway for our God across the desert. Let every valley be filled in, every mountain and hill be laid low. Let every cliff become a plain, and the ridges a valley; then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed.” When we embark on this journey, we actually build our access roads to the highway to heaven that has already been built and opened in Jesus Christ. He’s the fulfilment of John the Baptist’s announcement in today’s gospel: “Someone is following me, someone who is more powerful than I am. […] He will baptise you with the Holy Spirit.”
