Second Sunday of Advent B
Once upon a time…
It was a dark and stormy
night…
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…
Or more appropriate to this time of the year:
’Twas the night before
Christmas…
We
all know the importance of first impressions,
and
what’s true of face-to-face meetings
is
also true when telling a story.
Did
you know there’s been an annual contest
for
more than 30 years
to
write the worst possible opening line for a novel?
I
considered sharing a few examples with you…
…but
I’ll spare you the agony.
Those
first few words of a story
can
tell us a lot about what will follow:
whether
we’re in for a fairy tale, a mystery, a classic,
or
something just plain bad.
This
Sunday we hear:
The beginning of the gospel
of Jesus Christ the Son of God.
We’ll
spend most Sundays of the coming year
hearing
gospel accounts taken from Mark—
as
best we can tell,
the
very first of the Christian gospels
to be written—
and
that’s his opening line.
The beginning of the gospel
To our modern, American ears,
it doesn’t exactly sound
like
this book’s going to be a real page-turner.
But
let’s pick it apart a bit…
“The
beginning…”
Mark’s
very first word echoes the very first words of the entire Bible:
the
Book of Genesis opens, In the beginning…,
as
it tells the story of the creation of the world.
Mark
is setting out to tell the story of a new creation:
God’s
re-making the world, giving a fresh start to everything.
This
isn’t going to be just another story.
This
is the beginning of what?
“The beginning of
the gospel…”
The
original Greek word literally means “glad tidings” or “good news.”
We
can hear that and think,
“Well,
this is going to be a nice, happy story—
the
opposite of the news we usually get !”
But
the word “gospel” previously had a very specific meaning:
the
announcement of a great military victory.
When
a conquering emperor or general returned from battle,
he
sent “evangelists” on ahead
to
tell everybody the “good news” of his triumph.
Mark
is setting out to tell us about the real victory—
not
of Caesar or one of his generals,
but
of a man Caesar put to death.
This
will be the story of the ultimate conquest.
And
these are the glad tidings about whom?
“…the gospel of
Jesus Christ the Son of God.”
Who
is this man, Jesus, whose story Mark wants to tell?
He
is the Christ: the Messiah, the anointed one.
This
Jesus was Jewish, living and dying in a Jewish context.
The
word “Christ” would have certainly perked up Jewish ears.
For
centuries, this oppressed people
had
been waiting for a liberator, a savior, promised by God,
who
would set them free—once and for all.
There
were many who made false claims to be the Messiah.
Could
this man really be the one?
But
Mark also tells us that this man is the Son of God.
Those
words would have perked up Roman ears—
the
Romans, from whom the Jews longed to be liberated—
for
the Caesars declared themselves divine,
and
one of the emperor’s many exalted titles was “son of god.”
Mark
says—quite provocatively—
that
he’s going to tell the story of the true king of the world. (cf. R. Barron)
All
of that is packed into just one line!
(It’s
not even a complete sentence!)
You
can draw out meaning like that
from
every word of the gospel,
from
every line of Sacred Scripture!
And
we can do much the same
with
every little detail of our lives.
God
is attempting to write
another
tale of glad tidings, another “gospel,”
in your
life and in mine.
Their
opening lines are as unique
as
every distinct human person.
Some
of our stories begin meeting God in tenderness:
Comfort, give comfort to my
people,
God
says through Isaiah.
Some
of our stories begin with a shock,
much
like the sudden appearance
of
a bug-eating wild man from the dessert named John the Baptist.
And
some of our stories emerge from out-and-out disaster,
like
St. Peter’s picture of the end of time
when
the heavens will be dissolved in flames
and the elements melted in
fire.
But
what these stories have in common—
if
we take the time to examine them closely—
is
that they are more than just an unconnected series of events;
each
one of them has a thread that ties it together,
and
that thread is Jesus:
God-made-man,
the savior, the liberator,
the
king come to definitively conquer sin and death,
to
recreate this world one life at a time.
And
what else do our stories have in common?
They
are meant to be told.
As
the old saying goes:
Your life may be the only
Bible
some people ever read.
How
does the story of your life in Christ begin?
(And
if it hasn’t started yet,
are
you ready to let God begin writing?)
What’s
the opening line?
What’s
happening in the most recent chapters?
Can
you recognize the thread that ties it all together?
Can
you see where it’s all going—that it’s truly good news?
And
are you willing to tell it
to
anyone and everyone who’s willing to listen?
The beginning of the gospel
of Jesus Christ the Son of God.
Let
it begin again in you this Advent.
2 comments:
This one makes me want to sit at your feet like Mary did while you pick apart the rest of the Bible for me and teach me! Nice homily Father!
How kind of you to say! Thanks!
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