"That is Heaven for me!"

St. Joseph Church (Cottleville)
Second Sunday of Advent
December 6-7, 2008 - 5:00 p.m. & 7:00 a.m.

Is 40:1-5, 9-11
Ps 85
2 Pt 3:8-14
Mk 1:1-8

Do you ever feel worn down by life? Do you ever get so caught up in the daily routine, the monotonous succession of one day after another, that life seems to lose any sense of meaning? Does one day ever begin to look like all the others, to the point that you wonder what it’s all really about? Life can become that way for us. We can get so caught up in our daily responsibilities that we lose any sense of newness, of meaning. Even some of the saints felt this way about life. St. Therese of Lisieux, for example, used to speak of her life on earth as her exile. She longed to be freed from this life to begin to enjoy the eternal bliss that she believed awaited her in heaven. Sometimes our lives too can seem like an exile. They can seem like a lifeless desert.

I think the Jews at the time of this prophecy of Isaiah must have felt themselves to be in a dry, dead desert. They had been in exile in Babylon for 60 years. They had become accustomed to the passing of the days in that foreign land, and perhaps they began to lose hope that even a drop of water would come along to soften the parched land of their lives. In the midst of that situation, the voice of Isaiah cried out: “In the desert prepare the way of the LORD! . . . Here is your God! He comes with power. . . Like a shepherd he feeds his flock.”

I think the Jews at the time of today’s Gospel reading must have felt themselves to be in the midst of a desert. They were familiar with all the prophecies that a messiah would come to free them from the great burdens of life. Yet it had been 300 years since a prophet had said anything. For 300 years it seemed that God had been silent. In the midst of that longing for a word from God arose St. John the Baptist, the last and the greatest of the prophets. He cried out in the midst of that desert: “One mightier than I is coming after me. . . . he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”

I think we Christians today often feel ourselves to be in a desert. 2500 years ago, Isaiah’s prophecy came true, and the Jews were freed from bondage and allowed to return to their own land. 2000 years ago John the Baptist’s prophecy was fulfilled when the Son of God took human flesh and walked the face of the earth for 33 years. But 2000 years ago that same man promised that He would return. He assured us that He would come one final time to bring an end to sin, to all suffering and death, to bring life, peace, and happiness. He promised to shower the desert of our lives with living water.

That was 2000 years ago…and still we wait. Still we sin. Still we suffer. Still we die. Perhaps we begin to wonder if the stories of the Gospels are simply that – stories. Why has it taken our Lord so long to fulfill His promise to end suffering and death, to give happiness and life? This Advent season reminds us of His promise, and it calls us to hope. It calls us to remember that the words of the prophet Isaiah were fulfilled, that the words of John the Baptist were fulfilled. If the words of the prophets were fulfilled, how can the words of the God Himself not also be fulfilled?

And so we wait, in the midst of the desert. But we have something far greater than the Jews at the time of Isaiah, than the Jews at the time of the Baptist. Our Shepherd, though hidden and often silent, has not forgotten His flock. He carries us in His arms, leads us with care. Indeed, He feeds us. He has left us refreshment as we make our way through this desert towards Him. He has left us the true bread from heaven, the Holy Eucharist. If our hearts feel like a desert, if our lives seem monotonous and meaningless, if we are longing for our thirst to be quenched, we don’t have to wait for the glorious second coming of our Lord. He feeds us here and now, every week, every day. This may not be the ultimate fulfillment of all of His promises, yet Christ is as present in the Blessed Sacrament as He will be at the end of time. The only difference is that He remains hidden to our senses in the Eucharist, under the appearance of bread and wine. Nevertheless, the same Lord we hope to live with for all eternity in heaven lives now in the tabernacle of our church, and He lives in our hearts when we receive Him in Holy Communion. Whatever weighs on our hearts, whatever makes our lives seem like a desert, we can bring to Him in this wondrous Sacrament. He will refresh us. He will certainly sustain us as we make our way to Him.

This Advent, we can all prepare a way for the Lord in the desert, the desert of our hearts. We can prepare that way for Him by receiving Him worthily and reverently each week in Holy Communion. He is truly refreshment for tired souls. In the Holy Eucharist He gives us a foretaste of eternal glory. St. Therese of Lisieux suffered much during her short “exile” on earth. But she never lost sight of the fact that she wasn’t alone in that exile, never lost sight of the fact that Christ would sustain her on the road to eternal life. She died at the tender age of 24 on September 30, 1897. A year before her death, on June 7, 1896, she wrote a poem I would like to quote from to conclude. May these words remind us that Christ is indeed near, that the oasis for which we long in the midst of our life’s desert is no further than the nearest tabernacle:

To bear the exile of this valley of tears
I need the glance of my Divine Savior.
This glance full of love has revealed its charms to me.
It has made sense of the happiness of Heaven.
My Jesus smiles at me when I sigh to Him.
Then I no longer feel my trial of faith.
My God’s glance, His ravishing smile,
That is Heaven for me!

Heaven for me is hidden in a little Host
Where Jesus, my Spouse, is veiled for love.
I go to that Divine Furnace to draw out life,
And there my Sweet Savior listens to me night and day.
“Oh! What a happy moment when in Your tenderness
You come, my Beloved, to transform me into Yourself.
That union of love, that ineffable intoxication,
That is Heaven for me!