Reflection on the Readings at Mass for the Third Sunday of Advent – Year B. The Liturgical Sense of the Scriptures Podcast, by Catholic Author and Theologian David L. Gray. READINGS: Isaiah 61:1-2A, 10-11, Luke 1:46-48, 49-50, 53-54, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24, John 1:6-8, 19-28
The Liturgy of the Mass is our Most Certain Path to Joy
Around the mid-point of Advent and Lent, the Church pauses our penitential disposition of the seasons and asks us to rejoice in anticipation of Christ Jesus coming to break through the darkness of the world as an infant king whom Herod will seek to give the death penalty and has a risen king who was given the death penalty. Respectively called Gaudete and Laetare, both of which in Latin means “rejoice,” the Third Sunday of Advent and the Fourth Sunday of Lent temporarily transition from the spirit of penance to the spirit of joy. This shift is not only evident in the hearing of the introit at the opening of the Divine Symphony but also in seeing with our eyes that the Mass has been dressed in a beautiful ‘rose’ color, rather than the violet or purple of Advent and Lent. The message of Gaudete and Laetare Sundays is that we are called to be a people who are always in preparation, penance, and celebration, which are also three character marks of the liturgy of the Mass.
For the Third Sunday of Advent – Year B, the theme of rejoicing is very evident in our hearing, with the First Reading from Isaiah 61:1-2A, 10-11, proclaiming, “I rejoice heartily in the LORD, in my God is the joy of my soul,” the Canticle of Mary from the first chapter of Luke being offered as the Responsorial Psalm, beginning with “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,” and with the Second Reading from 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24, beginning with “Rejoice always.” However, this theme of rejoicing is not so explicit in today’s Gospel Reading from John 1:6-8, 19-28, where we witness John the Waymaker in a conflict with some Pharisees, priests, and Levites from Jerusalem who were interrogating him about his mission and ministry. For John, living in his calling, preparing the way for the one whose “sandal strap” he believed he was unworthy to untie, and pointing to the coming presence of Christ Jesus was the true meaning of joy.
To walk in a liturgy life where the liturgy of the Mass lives in us is joy. To be in the world who the liturgy has been forming us to be is to live a life that is always in preparation, penance, and celebration for the coming of Christ Jesus is joy. Suppose we were to look, for example, in the sacred Scriptures for a person who was born into sin like us, yet lived a liturgical life. In that case, John the Waymaker is the best model we could find because his life most closely resembles the Mass. For example, the first thing we hear about John is where he appeared; he appeared in the desert, which intends to signify that John was off the beaten path and away from the hustle and bustle. To get to where he was, you had to go to where you had never been before, but most important is the fact that John had been called to a set apart space, and that is precisely where we are at during the Mass; in a space set apart for a particular purpose to receive particular graces from God. For John, that particular offering has the quality of a sacrament. At the same time, his baptism is not the instrument of some regenerative grace or sacramental absolution; it does not cleanse us of humanity’s original sin. However, it does communicate God’s visible work and love on earth, which it has in common with every Sacrament. There is also a universal, that is, a Catholic quality to the liturgy of John’s ministry. It was not just some from the Judean countryside coming out to John’s sacred space. Rather, it was the whole Judean country, and it was not just some of the inhabitants of Jerusalem. However, it was all of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and although the text uses the phrase, “were going out to him,” hearing this verse in the liturgical sense, the image of a procession should come to mind: the people of Judea and Jerusalem were processing out to be Baptized by John in the Jordan River. The Greek word being transliterated for the phrase ‘going out to’ is ekporeuomai (ek paw rum ai), typically transliterated in the New Testament as ‘proceed’; that is, procession. As we see in chapter seven of Mark, it states, “There is nothing outside the man which can defile him if it goes into him; but the things which proceed [that is, ekporeuomai] out of the man are what defile him.”
Returning to John’s liturgy, what we have so far is a sacred space, a procession, a sacrament they are processing to receive, and water as the visible instrument of grace. Indeed, the liturgical sense of John the Waymaker’s mission and ministry is screaming for attention, and we have not even considered the person of John yet. To be sure, the visual of John the Waymaker still presents an aesthetic problem for many of us because he does not dress according to what we consider celebratory or joyful. Instead, he looks exactly like what everyone would expect a humble and straightforward prophet to look like. Moreover, he has the identical fashion sense as the prophet Elijah (Cf. 2 Kings 1:8). Matthew and Mark go out of their way to play up John’s harsh diet and retro liturgical vestments in writing, “John was clothed in camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist. He fed on locust and wild honey.” Because he appeared to be simple and unpretentious, the person of John the Waymaker is easy for us to fall in love with for the same reasons we still love to see Nuns in their black and white habits and eating thin slices of old crusty bread. If you are In Christ, you cannot but love these humble people. However, even if you are not In Christ, you still find yourself liking some things about them for the very same reasons that the text from Mark 6:20 informs us that King Herod liked John, writing, “When he (Herod) heard him speak he was very much perplexed, yet, he liked to listen to him.” Saint Mother Teresa of Calcutta, also had just that type of effect on people. God could draw people to Himself without Mother saying much at all . In the instant case, the desert is a place many people do not inhabit. However, the holiness and humility of John attracted all of Judea to process out to his sacred space, liturgy, and penitential rite. In light of our current circumstances, this should remind us that if the liturgy is unlike what people can find in the world, people will find its unworldliness attractive and seek it out. The opposite is also true; if liturgy is just a reflection of the world, then the world will not be interested in seeing a reflection of itself in the Mass.
The liturgy of John at the Jordan River was beautiful. It is obvious why people who were created to search for God, their true source of joy, found joy in going out to John’s desert liturgy. However, during this Advent Season, there is an even greater liturgy to which we are called to process, and it is the same liturgy to which the wise men of the East processed. Although they arrived late, they arrived on time for the offering rite to joyfully offer gold, frankincense, and myrrh to Christ the Newborn King. The similarity between the people of Judea, Jerusalem, the Wise Men, and us is our neediness. We need to search for what we know will satisfy our hopes and give us joy, and this is why we need the liturgy of the Mass because it is our most certain path to living a joyful life.
This is just one way the readings at Mass this Sunday connect to the liturgy and how the liturgy is forming us in how to live our lives in the world. Be in the world what you have received through the liturgy.
