Sunday – 2nd Week of Advent A

Isaiah, in the first reading, shows us that God intervenes when things look like a stump—in other words, helpless. No tree can come from a stump, right? Surely. But the shoot will grow from a stump. God is saying, in other words, that what He is about to do will be clearly divine, not of human origin. God’s solutions often begin with hidden things, small things, not reassuring or dramatic, but things that can only come from Him.

The Messiah comes not because the situation is healthy—because it is not. In those times, the people of God, as we see in the situation in the temple, with the corruption of leaders and even religious shepherds, were in need of healing. The Messiah was the doctor coming to heal the sick. And so too in our own days, when things look sad and devastating for the Church, when some decisions taken by our leaders seem to extol the ways of the world rather than the ways of Christ, this can be deeply disheartening for the faithful who are trying to live by the moral code Jesus left us, and not the one the world tries to instil within us.

And so it is a very fine line, because the ruler to come, as we see through the prophet Isaiah’s words today, will not judge by appearances, nor by hearsay. Rather, His authority will be rooted in the fear of the Lord—in His oneness with the Father and the Holy Spirit. It will not be an authority rooted in popularity or pressure, which sadly we see many spiritual leaders succumb to. His justice is real, especially for the poor—not sentimental, not selective, and certainly not a façade.

We hear today of global plans to heal the world, to bring about a paradise on earth, to remove poverty, to address climate disasters and everything that threatens the world. Yet there is little mention of the trafficking of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of children. In the United States alone, in recent immigration crises where borders were crossed without scrutiny, more than four hundred thousand children, according to estimates, have been lost. Thirty thousand were recently recovered, and among them many had been raped, trafficked, abused, sold, or even killed. Where is the emphasis, then, on justice for these poor children who are trafficked and enslaved?

If Christ’s authority is rooted in the fear of the Lord, then how should His Church think, speak, and act? Peace, in the prophet Isaiah, flows from truth restored, not truth avoided. Harmony comes after the moral order established by Christ, not instead of it. Yet this is precisely the illusion offered by global elites: remove religion, remove faith, and above all remove Jesus Christ, and then claim harmony for the world. Just get rid of your Messiah.

Saint Paul, in the second reading from his Letter to the Romans, chapter fifteen, is writing to a divided Church, not an ideal one. His answer is not novelty or restructuring, but endurance shaped by the Word of God. Unity is not built by lowering the demands of the Gospel. Harmony comes from thinking with Christ, having the mind of Christ, not from avoiding hard truths. This is what many people today are yearning for: the truth, plain and simple. We are tired of being deceived.

This is the cry of the faithful to their shepherds—among whom I include myself. I too, as a priest, will be called to account for what the Lord has entrusted to me. And so we must pray for priests, for bishops, for leaders, and especially for our Holy Father, so that we may preach the Word of God in season and out of season, not according to the mind of the world, but according to the mind of God—to think as God thinks, not as men think.

In today’s Gospel, Saint John the Baptist appears when religion is functioning, but hearts are misaligned. He preaches repentance before the Messiah arrives, and he speaks most strongly to those who presume their status protects them. John does not attack sinners at the margins; he confronts religious confidence with conversion. Repentance is not optional preparation; it is the doorway.

John does not ask for words, positions, or credentials. He asks for fruit. Fire purifies; it does not entertain. God’s judgment is not about destruction, but truthful separation. The axe clears ground for growth; fire prepares the harvest.

Advent is not spiritual nostalgia or gentle waiting. It is a season of straightening paths, personally and ecclesially. God is calling us to make straight His ways, to level mountains and fill valleys, so that His revelation—His living presence within us, through us, and as a Body in the Church—may be made manifest more easily.

My dear brothers and sisters, it is time for conversion. It is time for change. Each of us has a role to play. Go to confession. Spend time with our Eucharistic Lord, the commander who leads us into battle, who alone purifies the world with His grace, His holiness, and His truth—He who is the Truth, the Way, and the Life.

And may God bless you all. Amen.