Why? Why kill the messenger? For that matter, why is the invitation unwelcome? Why would anyone want to go to a farm rather than a palace, why would anyone want to go to work instead of a feast? A party with the king means “a feast of rich food and choice wines,” music and dancing and laughter. What’s not to like?

It has been said that “indifference, not hate, is the fabric of inhumanity,” and this echoes perfectly with the message of Isaiah. We can fall into this, and look at the national level and throw there all the attention, and forget that each of us is baptized, each of us has been given gifts to use for building the Kingdom of God, and yet we often fail to do anything, remaining indifferent or simply frozen by being overwhelmed, to advance the cause of life, of justice, of peace.

Prayer is the foundation for a genuine response to the Love of God. As is humility, beautifully articulated today in Paul’s letter to the Philippians. When I pray, I learn to sense the presence of God in myself, and in the events of my life. Prayer helps me to weigh the evidence that is unseen which exercises caution when things seem too good to be true, and offers hope to those in need of a second chance. Prayer is also the primary way to help discern the difference between those who talk the talk from those who walk the walk.

Whenever we began to follow Christ, whether as infants, children, or adults, we still hold back. We don’t show up at dawn ready to throw our whole lives into the task of following Christ. Rather, we say, “Lord, I’ll give you everything, everything but this desire, everything but this one fault, all I have except this one deceit, this single sin, this precious pleasure.” As many years as we have lived, as many miles as we have followed Christ, we have still hardly started to live and work and love as Christ commands.

The beginning of the First Reading from Sirach today tells us that “wrath and anger are hateful things, yet the sinner hugs them tight.” What are some ways we can diffuse wrath and anger? Maybe by stepping away from the situation, taking a walk, turning to prayer, or talking to someone for guidance. Unforgiveness imprisons us and can lead to hardness of heart and violence or inappropriate behavior. On the other hand, forgiveness offered to another brings healing, peace, and inner freedom, which is really God’s deepest desire for each of us.

As Christians, as members of Christ’s Body, we are called to continue the legacy of such a prophet as Ezekiel, to be prophets in our own day and to persevere in that call. We are called to be people who speak the truth, the truth that is Christ Jesus himself. It is a truth that is not always easy to speak. As Matthew reminds us in the Gospel, it is a truth that sometimes calls us to task and to mutual accountability.

In our noisy world we are listening to what our “itching ears want to hear.” What is different and what would amaze Saint Paul is our social media, newspaper, and cable tv silos where we are listening with itching ears to so many more voices who agree with what we want to hear. In our different silos the voices are growing to drown out opposing thoughts, sound doctrine, and God’s Will. Sadly, it does not matter what side we take, our itching ears are winning by listening to what we want to hear, rather than what we should hear.

Augustine recounts a large period of his life he called “years of ignorance” when despite his success as a professional teacher, and a reader of the greatest books, he could not figure out anything meaningful about Him beyond his name, learned at home as a child. He would acknowledge Jesus was “a great man of extraordinary wisdom…but not God.” And could not understand either what a humble figure like Jesus would be capable of teaching him. Yet, it was precisely in that zone of spiritual blindness where the hidden power of the question opens all the possibilities.

The sacred narrative of the Gospel keeps a gentle approach to the role of Mary in her son’s mission. She learned, rather, “to treasure up all these things and ponder them in her heart (Lk 2:19) and to go silently, following Jesus through a uniquely personal and demanding “inward journey.” The Mother is there, centered in Christ, with unified and “total will.” Her fiat as a virgin has transformed her into the mother that lives “abiding in God.”

What makes the birth of the child of Bethlehem something extraordinary is not so much due to the singing of angels and the gathering of shepherds. It’s not in the things that surround the birth, rather, it’s in the awareness of who this is, who he will become, how he will manifest himself, what he will say and what he will accomplish.

God’s vision is less of a catalog of right and wrong and more of a radical dislodgement of our categories, a vision in which peace and goodwill are the entitlement of all. We give birth to Christ in our world though our vision, our compassion, our forgiveness, and perhaps most importantly our ability to see and hear things differently from humanity, to see and hear things as God would have us do.

Submit to God, draw near to God, side with God. Resist the devil – resist all that is evil. Do not be of two minds. Cleanse yourself free of that two-mindedness. Try, with God’s grace to come to the complete and unassailable faith of Mary, to the radical and all-consuming hope of John the Baptist. Then indeed our parched land will exult and bloom, our blind eyes will be opened, and we will see the glory and splendor that God’s way holds out to us.

John the Baptist reminds us that there is the Advent of children and the Advent of adults. The Advent of children is a time of wondering how things work, and what gifts they will receive. The Advent of adults must be a time of giving, of sacrifice and forgiveness, of the true repentance the Lord most desires. Christ wants that good fruit from us today.

The season of Advent challenges us to examine our lives for signs of sleep. St. Paul, in the second reading, tells us: “It is now the hour to wake from sleep....Let us cast off the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.” Advent encourages us to build into our lives a series of checks and balances, so that present routines don’t lull us into complacency, so that we don’t fool ourselves with a false sense of security.

The letter to the Colossians continues to open out the nature of Christ’s kingship in some of the richest language of the New Testament. His intimacy with his Father makes it possible for us to claim in faith that every dimension of creation is organically interconnected with one another because Jesus is the means by which the Father created the universe of nature and humanity, and the world that transcends the sensual.

Jesus does not ever sugar coat His message, but always gives it to us straight. Life is beautiful, but life is also hard. Human beings are created in the image and likeness of God, but not immortal on our own, nor invulnerable to the trials of this world.

We cannot get rid of God no matter how hard we try in our sinfulness. And it is precisely because God wants us to be more and more the sacraments of God’s presence to others that God calls us little by little, rebuking and warning and reminding us, says Wisdom, so that we can turn to the merciful and compassionate God, whom Jesus, in the Gospel of Luke, proclaims as he enters into the house of Zacchaeus, the tax collector, who was lost, but Jesus found.

We cannot get rid of God no matter how hard we try in our sinfulness. And it is precisely because God wants us to be more and more the sacraments of God’s presence to others that God calls us little by little, rebuking and warning and reminding us, says Wisdom, so that we can turn to the merciful and compassionate God, whom Jesus, in the Gospel of Luke, proclaims as he enters into the house of Zacchaeus, the tax collector, who was lost, but Jesus found.

Today, we see the importance of the disposition of humility in prayer. The humble and honest prayer of the tax collector reveals his true self. His example serves as a reminder to us that with and in humility we are invited to begin and end all prayer. What other thoughts does this Gospel raise for us?

What is our body language? What is our posture? What is our stance in life? What is it that we communicate? Are we closed off from one another, to each other’s voices, ideas, concerns? Do we listen to one another, or are we too busy looking the other way? Or are we open to each other, looking at each other in the eye?