The Second Sunday of Advent, December 7, 2025

Matthew 3, 1–12

John the Baptist appeared, preaching in the desert of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” It was of him that the prophet Isaiah had spoken when he said: A voice of one crying out in the desert, Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. John wore clothing made of camel’s hair and had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. At that time Jerusalem, all Judea, and the whole region around the Jordan were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins.  When he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to his baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance. And do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you, God can raise up children to Abraham from these stones. Even now the ax lies at the root of the trees. Therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. I am baptizing you with water, for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is mightier than I. I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fan is in his hand. He will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into his barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

The Prophets had vanished so utterly from the land of Israel since the death of Malachi over four hundred years before the Birth of Christ that it must have seemed to the Israelites who lived during the time of the Roman occupation that God would not send another, despite the promise made st the end of Malachi’s book.  Certainly, people did rise up and claim to be prophets, but these were bandits, revolutionaries, and those who would establish their own sects.  None of these lasted for very long.  They gained few followers and these dispersed after their deaths.  The arrival of John the Baptist came like a bolt out of the heavens on a clear day.  And no one doubted that he was a prophet.  He lived in a primitive way, he preached, he foretold, he performed prophetic actions — in his case, baptism.  Even the leaders in Jerusalem knew, though they could not admit, that he was a prophet.  The real question regarding his identity concerned whether or not he was something more, perhaps the Messiah.  The Pharisees, the Sadducees, and the Jerusalem leadership ruled this out as soon as they heard him criticizing them, and rather sharply.  But they needed to ascertain who he thought that he was, who was he promoting himself to be, what weaknesses did he have that they could use against him when he became too tiresome for them,  and they knew they had to proceed cautiously because it was evident that the crowds who came to him did believe he was — somebody.

“At that time Jerusalem, all Judea, and the whole region around the Jordan were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins.”  St. Matthew reminds his readers, many of whom would have also gone to John, how exciting it was when John appeared.  He shows us how ready the people were for the coming of Christ, that Jesus came exactly when he was supposed to.  The people went to John in droves and let him plunge them in the cold water of the Jordan while they confessed their sins.  No one does such a thing unless they feel the urgent need to do so and that a great good would result from this.  By the time John began to preach and to baptize, the people were so ready for the Messiah that they dropped like ripe fruit into John’s basket.  Every age has its troubles and looks for a savior, a leader.  But by the time of John and Jesus, the whole Jewish nation writhed in expectation.  Everyone, that is, but those who feared being displaced by a prophet or the Messiah.

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance.”  A viper is a snake with a deadly bite.  John was calling the Pharisees and Sadducees killers, for they let the people astray with their false interpretation of the Law.  That John demands to know who warned them to flee the coming wrath poses an interesting question.  The Pharisees and Sadducees were very self-enclosed groups.  For them to listen to John and to approach him for baptism shows that they knew they needed to go beyond the teachings and practices of their groups in order to be saved.  Logically, they should then have abandoned these groups, but they wanted to have both the identity and security of the group and to take part in the baptism of John at the same time.  But the key to John’s teaching was not baptism, it was repentance.  His baptism was just a sign of their repentance and commitment to live righteously thereafter.  Their coming to him showed that they knew that their practices did not make them righteous, and yet they did not give them up.  John seems to refuse to baptize them until they have left their groups, with their distinctive manner of dress, and they have performed acts of penance.

“He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”  John speaks of the Messiah, whose Baptism would fulfill the sign of John’s.  The fire of which John speaks will destroy sin in us, and the Holy Spirit will then fill us and make us adopted children of God.  In this way we also become prophets, pointing the way to the second coming of Christ.

Saturday in the First Week of Advent, December 6, 2025

Matthew 9, 35 — 10, 1; 5; 6-8

Jesus went around to all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Gospel of the Kingdom, and curing every disease and illness.  At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the Master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.” Then he summoned his Twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits to drive them out and to cure every disease and every illness. Jesus sent out these Twelve after instructing them thus, “Go to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. As you go, make this proclamation: ‘The Kingdom of heaven is at hand.’ Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.”

“At the sight of the crowds, Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for them because they were troubled and abandoned.”  A dive into the meaning of the herbs here will help us with this Gospel Reading.  First, the phrase Jesus’ heart was moved with pity” actually means the very simple and direct: “Jesus pitied them.”  The phrase “was moved with pity” implies that at first Jesus did not pity them, and then he did, which the Greek does not mean. Second, the Greek word translated as “abandoned” actually has the meaning of “cast aside”: the shepherd has not merely walked away from the flock, he has treated them contemptuously in leaving them.  This describes the state of the Jews at that time.  The priests did not preach to them or teach them the Law as the Law itself commanded them to do, and those self-appointed experts, the Pharisees, misinterpreted the Word of God for the people so that they were not much better off than if they had no teachers at all.  The people yearned for a Savior and desired to do God’s will, but there was no one to aid them in this.

“The harvest is abundant but the laborers are few; so ask the master of the harvest to send out laborers for his harvest.”  The people are ready to hear the announcement of the approach of the Kingdom of heaven, and the Lord wills to involve them in their own salvation by calling on them to pray, and for many to answer God’s call to bring the his teachings to the world.

 That is, when the Lord makes us aware of a problem, he is pointing to us to do participate in its solution.  To demonstrate this “he summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits to drive them out and to cure every disease and every illness.”  We note here that it is Christ who calls and appoints.  We do not give ourselves authority, but it must come from an authority.  Otherwise we are usurpers and no better than the Pharisees.  The Apostles receive this authority and power not in order to gather followings for themselves but to validate their preaching about the Kingdom of heaven and the need for repentance.  These signs, worked from heaven, prove to all that what they say comes from God.

“Do not go into pagan territory or enter a Samaritan town. Go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”  The Lord forbids the Apostles to go into non-Jewish lands not because he disdains the people in these places but because he wants to give his Apostles a chance to learn how to preach in a familiar setting before going into more challenging locations.  “The kingdom of heaven is at hand.”  This verse is more correctly translated, The Kingdom of God has drawn near” — it did not suddenly and randomly appear; it has steadily and deliberately approached.  “Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.”  The Apostles did not have to pay expensive fees to obtain the authority and power to perform these miraculous works.  Nor did they even dare to ask for it.  The Lord gave it to them with their asking and without cost.  It came with their assignment.  Evidently they did heal the sick and cast out devils, from what they told Jesus on their return, but they did not raise the dead until after they received the Holy Spirit after the Resurrection.

We are sent out likewise with such power — grace — given to us as we may need for the individual job each of us is called to do.

Friday in the First Week of Advent, December 5, 2025

Matthew 9, 27-31

As Jesus passed by, two blind men followed him, crying out, “Son of David, have pity on us!” When he entered the house, the blind men approached him and Jesus said to them, “Do you believe that I can do this?” “Yes, Lord,” they said to him. Then he touched their eyes and said, “Let it be done for you according to your faith.” And their eyes were opened. Jesus warned them sternly, “See that no one knows about this.” But they went out and spread word of him through all that land.

According to St. Matthew, Jesus performs this miracle after healing the woman with the blood issue and raising the daughter of Jairus, the ruler of a Galilean synagogue.  In both of these miracles, Matthew shows that for Jesus, faith plays an essential role.  In the case of the raising up of the little girl, Jairus approached the Lord and said to him, “Lord, my daughter is even now dead; but come, lay your hand upon her, and she shall live.”  We can try to imagine the man’s state.  His treasured daughter has died, presumably of an illness, but he thinks of Jesus, whom he knows is in his town, and he leaves his house and grieving family, finds Jesus, and has the composure to make this request of him, showing extraordinary faith.  And then, on the way to the man’s house, a woman with an illness that has caused her untold suffering for a number of years, comes up behind him in order to touch only his clothing, thinking, “If I shall touch only his garment, I shall be healed.”  The Lord rewards her faith both by healing her and by commending her aloud: “Be of good heart, daughter, your faith has made you whole.”

And then, “as Jesus passed by, two blind men followed him, crying out, ‘Son of David, have pity on us!’ ”  These two probably sat together on the street, begging for alms, perhaps hoping that the sight of the two of them together would evince mercy from passers by.  Perhaps one of them could see just a little and could assist the other in getting around.  They would have made quite a sight, scrambling along behind Jesus and his followers, knocking into other people, slipping on loose or broken stones on the street.  They would have clung to each other for safety and support, and helped each other up when they tripped.  They would have looked scraggly in their ragged clothes, and people probably shoved them away when they got too close.  But desperation drove them on.  

“Son of David, have pity on us!”  They knew who he was.  Perhaps they had heard him preach or one of the crowd told them who was the cause of the commotion on the street around them.  To call on him as the “Son of David” was at least partly flattery on their part, an attempt to gain the Lord’s attention.  But there must have been some admixture of faith in this as well.  They were not addressing him as a passing physician, after all, but as a wonder worker, and maybe something more.

“When he entered the house, the blind men approached him.”  Jesus tested their faith and their perseverance in it by continuing all the way to the house in which he was staying.  They did not give up, no matter how great their difficulty in trailing him.  Did some of the crowd take pity on them and assist them, even taking them by the hand?  We would like to think so, but Matthew does not tell us.  “Do you believe that I can do this?”  The Lord poses an interesting question.  The answer would seem self-evident, so why does he ask it?  He wants them to make a public statement of their belief that they can be cured.  He also wants them to show that they believe that he can cure the blind, and that he can cure them.  He wants them to confess their belief that he has power and authority over their blindness.  “ ‘Yes, Lord,’ they said to him.”  Their answer is plain and clear.  They put themselves in his hands.  “He touched their eyes.”  In doing so, he entered into their blindness and cured it from within it.  The Lord does not remain on the outside, unaffected, but goes into the depths of our misery and cures it by taking it upon himself.  “Let it be done for you according to your faith.”  That is, according to their capacity for receiving the grace of the healing, which is according to the extent of their faith.  “And their eyes were opened.”  The first thing they saw in the moment of their healing was the face of Jesus.  They blinked, they rubbed their eyes, they looked around.  They could see.  Thus did Jesus show his power, but also the faith of the two men, especially to themselves.

“Jesus warned them sternly, ‘See that no one knows about this.’ ”  The Lord’s words indicate that they must have been alone in the house.  Possibly the Apostles were present, and the owner of the house.  Still, the Lord makes a seemingly impossible demand.  Surely, these two men were known in the town: someone was bound to ask them how they could see now.  And as for the men, even if no one asked them, how could they keep silent about this incredible gift from the Son of David?  Nevertheless, the Lord “warned them sternly”.  The Greek word translated as “warned” actually means “to scold”, “to groan”, “to express displeasure”, even “to snort”.  St. Mark uses the word to describe how the dinner guests reacted to the sinful woman anointing Jesus (cf. Mark 14, 5).  This phrase is usually translated as something like, “They murmured against her”, which is not strong enough.  Elsewhere, St. John uses the word to describe the Lord’s reaction to Mary the sister of Lazarus saying to him that her brother would not have died if he had been present (John 11, 33).  This is usually translated along the lines of, “He groaned in spirit.”  In the case of the two formerly blind men, Jesus may have been displeased by their expressions of joy.  Did they thank him, or were they merely congratulating each other?  Or is Jesus putting their faith to the test?  If they truly believed that he was the “Son of David”, then they ought to obey him.  If they believed that he had power over their blindness, then he had power over them as well.  If they submitted themselves to his power for healing, then they must submit himself to whatever command it pleased him to give them.  The “stern” command he gave them to see to it that no one learned of this was a hard one, but they had shown their ability to overcome difficulties in coming to the house.  

The two formerly blind men must have agreed to do this before leaving, but they do not seem to have made any attempt to keep their promise, for “they went out and spread word of him through all that land.”  They may have had faith sufficient for their cure, but not enough for them to obey the Lord’s command.  They were not thinking of the Lord, at this point, but only of themselves.

The Lord’s commandments to love our neighbors as ourselves, to despise our possessions, to be prepared to leave our families for his sake, to preserve our chastity, to forgive our enemies, may seem as impossible to carry out as what he ordered the two cured blind men to not do, but the Lord does not command what we cannot do: “God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tested above that which you are able: but will allow you to be tested in such a way that you may be able to bear it” (1 Corinthians 10, 13).  The proof of whether we really believe is in whether we can and will carry out his commands, which we know lead to life.

Thursday in the First Week of Advent, December 4, 2025

Matthew 7,21; 24-27

Jesus said to his disciples: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.  [Many will say to me in that day: Lord, Lord, have not we prophesied in your name, and cast out devils in your name, and done many miracles in your name? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, you that work iniquity.]  Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house. But it did not collapse; it had been set solidly on rock. And everyone who listens to these words of mine but does not act on them will be like a fool who built his house on sand. The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house. And it collapsed and was completely ruined.”

The Gospel reading for today’s Mass is taken from the final verses of the Lord’s Sermon on the Mount in chapter seven of the Gospel of St. Matthew.  Strangely, the reading leaves out verses 22 and 23 before skipping ahead to verse 24.  It is hard to see the purpose for cutting them out as these excised verses provide the basis for understanding what follows.  These are included here enclosed in brackets.

The purpose of the Sermon on the Mount, which is found in Matthew 5-7 is, like so much else in this Gospel, to prepare the early Jewish Christians for the final judgment.  The Lord Jesus says to his disciples, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the Kingdom of heaven.”  That is, many people will address Jesus as “Lord”, but not many people will act as though they believe that he is the Lord.  These will either consider him inferior to themselves and their own judgments, or they will attempt to manipulate him for their own profit.  Of the first group, some will pick and choose which of his commandments to follow and decide for themselves how to follow them, and some will say to themselves that Jesus is an important historical figure but whose commandments are limited to a certain time and place and so are no longer relevant.  Of the second group will be those who found cults and “churches” claiming that they have finally uncovered the authentic message of the Gospel, the meaning of the Lord’s commandments, and the “true” identity of Jesus.  Often, these people will combine thin shreds of the meat of the Gospel with fatty chunks of Eastern or New Age/gnostic  beliefs.  Others of this group will seek political power by invoking the Lord’s name when convenient and falsely claiming to belong to him. “Only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven” will enter the Kingdom of heaven — those who have his name engraved on their hearts.

“Lord, Lord, have not we prophesied in your name, and cast out devils in your name, and done many miracles in your name?”  Many false Christians — particularly the manipulators — will say this to the Lord when he comes to judge.  These used the Lord’s name to justify their religious cults or political statements and policies.  It is because people even in early times did this that St. Paul told the Thessalonian Christians: “Test everything.  Hold fast to what is good” (1 Thessalonians 51, 21).  How can we know if something or someone is good or not?  Earlier in the sermon Jesus told the crowd, “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in the clothing of sheep, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. By their fruits you shall know them” (Matthew 7, 15-16).  That is, we must examine their works closely to see if the fruit is fresh or rotten.  The Fathers comment that these false Christians only seem to perform miracles and to cast out devils, but they do not in fact do this.  The claims, which are bald-faced lies, these people will make show the desperation of those who make them: lying even to Christ himself.   “I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, you that work iniquity.”  The Lord will tell these liars and frauds that he “never knew them”, not that he did not know who they were or that they were false, but that he never knew them as his own followers: “My sheep hear my voice. And I know them: and they follow me” (John 10, 27).

Having established that there will be false prophets in whom people will believe and choose for their lords, Jesus now tells what will happen to these and what will happen to those who believe in him: “Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.”  A person who is careful and skillful does not build his house just anywhere, but first looks for a place to lay a solid foundation.  He does not choose swampy ground, even though it may be inexpensive, nor a site that is near a body of water and is below its level.  He looks for rocky ground, or a flat place where he can pour concrete for a foundation.  This foundation will hold up the walls and ultimately the roof of the house.  For the Christian, this means knowing the teachings of Christ and faithfully following them, and knowing him in his teachings and through prayer.  “The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house.”  The “rain” which falls on the house is the darkness of superstition and false teaching which assail the Christian through the voices of non-believers.  The “floods” are interior temptations against the virtues, such as those against chastity, modesty, and temperance.  The “winds” are persecutions and tribulations that the faithful suffer.  None of these is strong enough to tear the true believer from belief in Christ.  One who does not have faith, or whose faith is weak, will certainly fall because of one or more of these.  He will collapse and be “completely ruined”.  He will lose everything, including his life, because he “built his house” — put his faith — in the obviously unsuitable sandy ground of those who promise false freedoms.

 

Wednesday in the First Week of Advent, December 3, 2025

Matthew 15, 29-37

At that time: Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee, went up on the mountain, and sat down there. Great crowds came to him, having with them the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute, and many others. They placed them at his feet, and he cured them. The crowds were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the deformed made whole, the lame walking, and the blind able to see, and they glorified the God of Israel.  Jesus summoned his disciples and said, “My heart is moved with pity for the crowd, for they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way.” The disciples said to him, “Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place to satisfy such a crowd?” Jesus said to them, “How many loaves do you have?” “Seven,” they replied, “and a few fish.” He ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground. Then he took the seven loaves and the fish, gave thanks, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied. They picked up the fragments left over–seven baskets full. 

According to St. Matthew, the events described in today’s Gospel reading took place when he returned from his excursion to the coast of Tyre and Sidon in the land of the Gentiles north of Galilee.  He takes his Apostles back to the familiar country around the Sea of Galilee, where several of them were from.  The news of his return traveled quickly and crowds began to form, eager to be taught.  In order to accommodate the crowds, Jesus ascended a “mountain” — actually, something like a large hill that would have taken an hour or two to climb.  He taught them from the mountain for three days.  During this time, “large crowds” of  “the lame, the blind, the deformed, the mute, and many others” were also brought to him and he cured them.  It is a great feast of mercy: first the teaching and then the healing.  Jesus would have spoken for a few hours at a time, and then healed the sick.  If we consider that the whole of the Gospel of St. Matthew can be read in a few hours, we begin to wonder at all that Jesus said to the people on this occasion.  Would it not be beyond wonderful to know what he said to these crowds during this time?  But the Gospel writers tell us nothing of what he said.

They do tell us how Jesus continued this feast of mercy by feeding the people after he had taught them for three days and healed their sick.  The Lord must have felt exhausted by then, and yet his only thought, as St. Matthew relates, is for the multitude: “I do not want to send them away hungry, for fear they may collapse on the way.”  He himself must have been in a similar if not worse condition, but he does not speak of himself.  The disciples are dismayed.  They also are hungry and tired, and now the Lord wants to feed all these people.  But there is a practical problem: ““Where could we ever get enough bread in this deserted place to satisfy such a crowd?”  According to ancient tradition, this “deserted  place” was called Tabgha, just northwest of the Sea of Galilee.  It truly is a remote spot.  The situation must have seemed rather dire, but the Lord knew what he would do.  After taking stock of the provisions remaining to the Apostles, “he ordered the crowd to sit down on the ground.”  Now, seven loaves and a few fish would not be enough to make a decent meal for Jesus and the Apostles.  Yet Jesus calmly gave thanks, then broke the loaves, and gave the Apostles the job of distributing the food.  It is hard to envision how they did this.  Perhaps the two or three baskets they used kept refilling.  At any rate, more than four thousand people were fed: “They all ate and were satisfied.”  Matthew even records that the leftovers were gathered up, and these filled seven baskets.  How much does this amount to?  We can get an idea by looking at the Greek word translated as “basket”.  It is spuris, and it actually means “a large basket”.  How large?  We know from Acts 9, 25 that a spuris was big enough to smuggle St. Paul out of Damascus.  The amount of food leftover, then, was substantially more than what was there at the beginning.

The Lord will not be outdone in his generosity.  This miracle is a sign of his overwhelming love for us, that there is nothing he would not do for us, that he sets his own sufferings aside in order to serve us.  It is a sign of the superabundance of mercy poured out for us in his Passion and Death.  We should keep in mind when we look at the crucifix that in the suffering he accepted for our salvation he went far beyond what was needed.  As God and man, accepting a single blow in the house of Caiaphas would have proven more than adequate to make up for the sins of the world.  But the Lord wanted not only to redeem us but to reveal to us how much he loves us, and so died in the worst possible way.  The Lord never gives just enough.  He gives us more than enough: “A good measure and pressed down and shaken together and running over shall they give into your bosom” (Luke 6, 38).  It is a small thing to give the Lord our lives in return for all that he has done for us.

Tuesday in the First Week of Advent, December 2, 2025

Luke 10, 21-24

Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, “I give you praise, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him.”  Turning to the disciples in private he said, “Blessed are the eyes that see what you see. For I say to you, many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, but did not see it, and to hear what you hear, but did not hear it.”

We do not often see Jesus rejoicing in the Gospels.  The context here is the return of the seventy-two disciples from their preaching repentance and the approach of the kingdom of heaven: “And the seventy-two returned with joy, saying: Lord, the devils also are subject to us in your name” (Luke 10, 17).  The Lord, then, rejoices in the spread of the word of God by these men.  Their success glorifies God especially because they are not trained speakers, learned rabbis, or clever people: they are ordinary folks — fishermen, tax collectors, carpenters, shop keepers, laborers.  God shows forth his glory best not through the most radiant material, but through the ordinary material at hand.  If we see an angel performing some great work, we will be tempted to think it is done through the angel’s own power because we are so amazed at the angel’s appearance: Of course, we think, he has such great power.  Look at him!  But when an ordinary human in ordinary clothes, dusty from long walking, speaks with conviction about God and performs miracles and refuses rewards, then it is clear that God is acting through him.  Thus, we ordinary mortals may be true vessels of the Lord’s power.

The Lord Jesus exults to his Father that, “You have hidden these things from the wise and the learned and you have revealed them to the childlike.”  That is, the “wise and the learned” have not sought to know the kingdom of God, but the “child-like” have.  These words are aimed at the Pharisees and the high priests who insist on a Messiah whom they will control and a kingdom of Israel that they will rule.  They scorn holiness for the right to govern and for wealth.  By contrast with these, the Lord’s disciples are “child-like”.  They seek the kingdom which the Lord promises and preaches.  They are devoted not to worldly ambitions, but to him. 

“Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will.”  This is an essential statement, but one easily overlooked.  The fact is that the “child-like” disciples preaching the word of God is decreed by Divine Providence.  It was foreseen from all eternity.  The preaching by ordinary folks and not by the learned and the clever is God’s will, his choice.  These are the means by which he makes himself known to the world.  Not by the slick Simon Magus of the Acts of the Apostles, but by the footsore, shipwrecked Paul, who himself admits that he is no skilled speaker.   This is as if the Lord were telling us: Anyone with faith can do this.

“All things have been handed over to me by my Father, etc.”  This verse sounds very much as though it were lifted from the Gospel of St. John.  We might wonder what these words are doing here since they sound and look so out of place.  The reading opened with the Lord praying.  Now, abruptly, he is teaching.  He is explaining to the disciples what they have done: they have participated in the very mystery of God.  They have shared what the Lord Jesus gave them, which he had from the Father.  They did not speak on their own, but God spoke in them.  Likewise, they did not perform healings and exorcisms on their own, but from the power they received from Jesus, which he had from the Father.  That the Father would choose them for this is more staggering than any works they performed.  Each of the disciples could reflect, “Almighty God, knowing who I am and all my weaknesses, sent me anyway.  What does he see in me?”

“Blessed are the eyes that see what you see.”  The Lord reinforces his teaching on what they have done with these words.  He assures them that the great ones of history and of prophecy longed to see his day — the coming of the Lord — but did not live to see it.  And yet, the disciples were looking at him, the Desire of the Nations.  Did that make them greater than the kings and prophets?  Again, it is a matter of God’s will.  God chose them.

It is necessary for the believer to wonder at his own being chosen by God, as well as at his own response to God’s choice of him.  And then, out of wonder, to work for the salvation of all.

Monday in the first Week of Advent, December 1, 2025

Matthew 8, 5-17

When Jesus entered Capernaum, a centurion approached him and appealed to him, saying, “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” He said to him, “I will come and cure him.” The centurion said in reply, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man subject to authority, with soldiers subject to me. And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and to another, ‘Come here,’ and he comes; and to my slave, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he was amazed and said to those following him, “Amen, I say to you, in no one in Israel have I found such faith. I say to you, many will come from the east and the west, and will recline with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob at the banquet in the Kingdom of heaven, but the children of the Kingdom will be driven out into the outer darkness, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.” And Jesus said to the centurion, “You may go; as you have believed, let it be done for you.” And at that very hour his servant was healed.  Jesus entered the house of Peter, and saw his mother-in-law lying in bed with a fever. He touched her hand, the fever left her, and she rose and waited on him. When it was evening, they brought him many who were possessed by demons, and he drove out the spirits by a word and cured all the sick, to fulfill what had been said by Isaiah the prophet: He took away our infirmities and bore our diseases.

The season of Advent sharpens our awareness of a truth that quietly runs through the whole Gospel: the world is aching for a Savior. Behind the hymns, candles, and collects is a shared, ancient longing — the cry of the human heart for Someone who can cross the infinite distance between heaven and earth, speak a word, and restore what is broken. Matthew 8, 5–17 gathers three scenes of this longing and its fulfillment, each shining a different light on the Messiah who comes to us at Christmas.

When Jesus enters Capernaum, He encounters a Roman centurion — an outsider, a pagan, a representative of foreign power. Yet it is this man whose heart is most open. His plea is almost gentle: “Lord, my servant is lying at home paralyzed, suffering dreadfully.” Advent teaches us to listen for such voices. The yearning for God is rarely loud; it is the voice of one who suffers acutely and hopes quietly. In this soldier we see humanity uneasily holding together two experiences: a helpless compassion (“my servant . . . suffering dreadfully”) and a powerless trust (“Lord, only say the word”). Advent is precisely this mingling — our felt weakness with our growing trust that someone is finally near.

Christ answers with a generosity that reveals his heart: “I will come and cure him.” He is always the One who comes. From the moment the Word takes flesh in Mary’s womb, He is “the One who comes into the world.” Advent is not merely our movement toward Christ; it is Christ’s movement toward us.

But the centurion’s response sends a surge of astonishment through the Gospel: “Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof; only say the word.” These words open the way for us to understand Advent. Human unworthiness is not a wall; it is a doorway. Those who recognize their smallness make room for the greatness of Christ. The centurion knows authority not by brute force but by obedience. He grasps something profound: if human commands have effect at a distance, what of the Creator’s word? Christ marvels — not at the man’s reasoning, but at the trust shining through it. “In no one in Israel have I found such faith.” He sees in this pagan soldier the first glow of the Gentiles streaming toward the newborn King.

And so we hear the Advent promise: “Many will come from the east and the west and will recline with Abraham.” Isaiah’s prophecy begins its fulfillment: nations walking in God’s light, entering the banquet of the Messiah. Christ is the Dawn for all nations, rising over all peoples.

The second scene — Peter’s mother-in-law lying with fever — shows the nearness of Christ’s healing. He does not speak, he touches. Advent is filled with the tenderness of divine humility: God stooping to touch the hand of the suffering. Her rising to serve reveals the true meaning of divine healing. Christ does not merely restore us to health; He restores us to service. Her response is the perfect Advent gesture: rising to prepare a place for the Lord who has come under her roof.

The third scene broadens the horizon. At sundown — a symbol of humanity’s long night — they bring to Jesus all who are oppressed, afflicted, tormented. The demons flee at his word; the sick are cured; human misery meets divine authority and melts away. Matthew shows how this moment was foreseen in the prophecy of Isaiah: “He took away our infirmities and bore our diseases.” Advent asks us to gaze upon this mystery: not a distant God, but a God who takes our afflictions into Himself. The Child in the manger is already the Servant who carries our sorrows.

In these three encounters, we find the whole rhythm of Advent: Longing: the centurion calling out for his suffering servant. Coming: Christ drawing near to heal, restore, and touch. Fulfillment: Isaiah’s prophecy embodied in the Messiah who bears our infirmities.

This passage reveals that our faith is not passive waiting but confident trust in the God who enters our world and our homes with power and mercy. The centurion’s words become our own at every Mass, precisely in Advent we speak them with deeper awareness: “Lord, I am not worthy . . . but only say the word.” In that word — spoken from eternity and conceived in the Blessed Virgin —our healing has already begun.