Make Straight the Path of the Lord

Introduction

The two parts of Advent

Since Vatican II, Advent is no longer a strictly penitential season but rather one of joyful expectation. What hasn’t changed is Advent’s traditional division into two parts. The first runs from the beginning of Advent to the 17^th of December, when the Novena of Christmas begins. The first part gazes into the future when Christ the Lord will come again in glory. The second part, the Novena of Christmas, runs from the 17^th to Christmas Eve. It gazes back into the past, to a moment of history, when Jesus was born of mother Mary in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the King.

The divine promises

In the first part all the first readings at Mass are from the prophet Isaiah. He comes with a whole string of promises that things will get much better. He promises that in those days,” The deaf shall hear the words of a book. And out of the gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see" (Is 29:18). “And a shoot shall spring up from the root of Jesse, and he will judge the poor fairly and defend the rights of the helpless. And justice shall be the band around his waist” (Is 11: 1, 4, 5).

Isaiah promises there won’t be anymore wars like the one that’s going on in Iraq as we speak. “In those days, they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. One nation shall not raise the sword against another nor shall they train for war again “(Is 2: 4-5). He promises there won’t be anymore ruthless Jihadists pointing their guns at the heads of terrified prisoners or anymore ruthless suicide bombers detonating themselves for a rich kill of men, women and children at some bus stop or market square. “In those days, the Lord God will strike the ruthless with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips he shall slay them” (Is 11: 4). He promises there won’t be anymore tit-for-tat revenges between Palestinians and Israelis and between Islamists and Western infidels. “In those days the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the goat; the calf and the young lion shall romp together“ (Is 11: 6-7).

Then there is that overwhelming promise from the Book of Revelation: “And in those days I saw a new heaven and a new earth and a New Jerusalem… And I heard a loud voice speaking from the throne, saying, `Now God shall dwell with them and they shall be his people. And he shall wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more crying and no more dying’” (Rev 21:3-4).

The reality on the ground

That long litany of divine promises that things will get better is generated out of the stark reality on the ground. For anyone who thinks and doesn’t believe that the second coming of Christ has finally arrived in the Xbox 360 retailing at $399, the reality on the ground always looks tragic. There are all those tragedies caused by the acts of man. We remember, because we may not forget, the Holocaust perpetrated by the Nazis in Germany. It consumed six million human beings in crematories of hate. And we remember, because we may not forget, the apocalyptic blow perpetrated by Usama bin Laden and his Islamists on 9 /11. It brought down two towers and 3000 thousand unsuspecting human beings.

Then there are all those tragedies caused by the acts of God. We recall the tsunami, the undersea earthquake, of Dec. 26^th 2004, which occurred in the Indian Ocean. It swallowed up more than 31,000 people and impacted the lives of one million others. Then there is the earthquake of 7.6 magnitude in Pakistan on October 8^th 2005. It crushed to death more than 73,000 people. And still fresh in our minds are the recent hurricanes of Katrina and Wilma. They swept away whole towns and cities, and they laid bare the injustices and corruption of the ruling status quo in New Orleans and the South. Call such a long recitation of woes pessimistic. It might be that, but it is also the stark reality on the ground.

The impatience of Advent’s 1^st part

The really profound impatience of Advent isn’t for the dawn of Christmas Day. That’s the delightful impatience of little children and also of the little children in all of us. (And that’s OK.) Its profound impatience is for the dawn of the Day of the Lord. That’s the day when he, who came a first time in Bethlehem, will come a second time in glory in order to make good all the divine promises that things will get much better. It’s an impatience for him to come again and fix, once and for all, our long list of woes which we, despite all our human progress, never seem able to really fix. Yes, Advent is impatience for the Messiah to come and even fix death itself-- the last and the chief of all our woes.

When the second part (the novena of Christmas) begins on the 17^th of December, the church starts singing the ancient Latin O Antiphons at vespers. They’re so called because they all begin with O—with sighs and exclamations of wonderment and joy. The antiphons are a litany of Old Testament titles addressed to the son of Mary. All of them are impacted with impatience. On the 17^th the antiphon is “O Sapientia, veni!” (Eccl: 24:3,10). “Oh Wisdom, hurry up and come!” On the 18^th the antiphon is, “O Adonai, veni!” (Ex 3:3-15). “Oh Lord God of hosts, hurry up and come!” The antiphon for the 19^th is particularly impatient. “O radix Jesse, veni, et noli tardare!” (Is 11:1). “Oh Sprout from the stump of Jesse, come, and stop your delaying” ([For God’s sake, what in the world is keeping you!).”

The potholes in his path

There is something in the world that’s keeping him. The Messiah is already en route but the going is rough. He has no hefty Hummer to drive in or super-highway to ride upon. The roads dwindle down at times to mere trails cluttered by fallen trees and rolling stones. His coming needs our help. So John the Baptist stands before us today as a voice crying in the desert, beseeching us to enable the coming of the Messiah and to hasten his day. “Prepare ye the way of the Lord,” he cries out. “Pave for him an expressway upon which to travel. Level off the mountains and hills for him. Fill in the valleys and the potholes. Straighten out the winding roads before him and make smooth his paths. Then, at long last, he will arrive, and all mankind shall see the salvation of the Lord” (Lk 3: 1-6).

“Oh Sprout from the stump of Jesse, come, and stop your delaying” [For God’s sake, what in the world is keeping you!]. Rabbi Tsvi Schur thinks there is, indeed, something in the world that’s keeping him. Some years ago he wrote me these words: “If people in this world were filled with more compassion and tolerance, we would enable the Messiah to come so much sooner. I often kid my synagogue saying that I visualize the Messiah about to be sent down to the world by God, but looking at all the hatred and cruelty perpetrated especially in the name of religion, the poor Messiah beseeches God not to subject him to this cruel world. No doubt the rabbi was writing out of stories and images and even personal experiences of the Holocaust burnt into his memory.

The Good Samaritan—an enabler of the Messiah

Once upon a time a man was going from Jerusalem to Jericho and was waylaid by robbers and left half dead. Along came a Jewish priest. Lacking the compassion of which Rabbi Shur speaks, he passed him by. Along came a Levite. Also lacking compassion he passed him by. Then along a Samaritan who stopped and poured the oil of compassion upon the poor man’s wounds, then hoisted his dead weight upon his beast of burden and hurried him off to the nearest inn where he provided for his care and cure (Lk 10: 25-37).

“If people in this world were filled with more compassion,” says Rabbi Shur, “we would enable the Messiah to come so much sooner.” The Good Samaritan enabled the Messiah. On the rough road of life running between Jerusalem and Jericho, he leveled off the mountains, filled in the valleys and potholes and prepared a straight path for the Lord and hastened his coming. By the time the sun set on that disastrous day, the poor man waylaid by robbers had seen the salvation of the Lord. And the Messiah up in heaven, looking down and seeing the Good Samaritan, was delighted, and he beseeched the Lord God to quickly send him down to earth. All three (the man waylaid, the Good Samaritan and the Messiah) were filled with joy.

Jerry Quinn—an enabler of the Messiah

The story of Jerry Quinn broke into the news sometime ago. He’s 52 years young, owns a bar and restaurant in Boston. Reading the newspaper one morning he comes upon an article about Franklin Piedra, an Ecuadorian, 33 years old, suffering from chronic kidney failure. His mother wants to give him one of her kidneys. The transplants would cost at least 100,000 dollars, and she has no health insurance. The Ecuadorian Consulate suggests that he go home and die.

Quinn has a better idea. He’s been saving his money for a major down-payment on a two-bedroom apartment in a suburban part of Boston with a river view and all. But now another thought keeps popping up, and he can’t get rid of it. He calls the reporter at the New York Post who wrote the story. Quinn says he wants to help. She asks, “How much do you want to donate?” He replies, “I’d like to do the whole thing.” “What,” she exclaims, “the whole 100,000 dollars!”

“I’m not a wealthy guy,” he says, “but I am comfortably well off. And I have this theory of life: you can use only one car, you can use only one kitchen, you can use only one bathroom, you can only eat so much. That’s my theory of life. So what more do we need?” Piedra and Quinn eventually met. Of that meeting Quinn reported, “He hugged me and kissed me and told me I was an angel. As I thanked him I could feel the shivers going up and down my back.”

Jerry Quinn enabled the Messiah. He leveled off the mountains and filled in the valleys and potholes and prepared a straight path for the coming of the Lord to a man waylaid by sickness on the rough road of life. Seeing the salvation of the Lord, Piedra hugged and kissed Quinn. And the Messiah up in heaven, looking down and seeing such a Good Samaritan as Jerry Quinn, was delighted, and he beseeched God to quickly send him down to earth. All three (Piedra, Quinn and the Messiah) were filled with joy.

Aaron Feuerstein—an enabler of the Messiah

Aaron Feuerstein is a CEO and owner of Malden Mills, a fabric factory in Methuen, Massachusetts. He is also a devout Jew who reads Shakespeare and the Talmud, a rich treasury of rabbinical tradition. On the night of December 11, 1995 (ten years ago this coming Sunday and six days before the beginning of Hanukkah on the 17^th that year), a surprise party was being celebrated for Aaron’s seventieth birthday. During the party a boiler exploded and a devastating fire broke out which demolished a good part of his factory.

The morning after the fire he assured all his 2400 employees that, with God's help, they would all get through that tragedy together. Then he gave them their pay checks plus a $275 Christmas bonus and a $20 food coupon. Three days later on the night of Dec 14^th in the gym of the Catholic High School where 1000 of his employees gathered to learn their fate, he made a startling announcement: "For the next 30 days, and it might be more, all our employees will be paid their full salaries. I think you already have been advised that your health insurance has been paid for the next 90 days. But over and above the money, the most important thing Malden Mills can do for our workers is to get you all back to work. By the 2^nd of January, 1996, we will restart operations, and within 90 days, God willing, we will be 100 percent operational.” There was a moment of stunned disbelief, and then the workers rose to their feet cheering and hugging each other and also weeping.

This CEO’s stunning unselfishness and compassion shone like a bright star in the dark night sky of corporate Enron greed. It leveled off the mountains and hills, it filled in the valleys and potholes for the Messiah. It prepared for him a straight and hasty path to 2400 employees waylaid by a devastating fire at Christmas time. All of them seeing the salvation of the Lord cheered and hugged each other and wept. And the Messiah up in heaven, looking down and seeing such a wonderful Good Samaritan as Aaron, was delighted, and he beseeched God to quickly send him down to earth. All three (the 2400 employees, CEO Aaron and the Messiah) were filled with Hanukkah and Christmas joy.

That’s the way it works. You straighten out the path of the Lord for me, and I straighten it out for you. You hasten his coming to me, and I hasten it to you. You make it easier for me to believe, and I make it easier for you. We’re all in this together.

Conclusion

The luminous glow of Aaron’s menorah

In Dickens’ Christmas Carol, the ghost of old Scrooge’s partner in business, Jacob Marley, appears to him on Christmas Eve. He is trembling in the chains of selfishness he forged for himself in life. Scrooge, trying to calm down the poor ghost, says, “Oh Jacob, you were always such a good man of business.” “Business!” the ghost cries out wringing his hands. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance and benevolence were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business.”

After his factory burned down on the night of December 11^th (six days before Hanukkah began that year), some of his confreres advised Aaron to take the insurance money and run, as a good man of business would do. In spirit, Aaron said to them what the ghost of Jacob Marley said to old Scrooge:

"Business! Human beings are my business.

Every 2400 of them are my business.

Compassion, unselfishness and generosity are my business.

The dealings of my trade are but a drop of water

in the wide ocean of what really is my business."

Six days later Aaron began lighting the eight candles of his Hanukkah menorah. When they were all lit, its luminous glow was but a reflection of the bright flame that burned in him who had leveled off the mountains and filled in the valleys and had made straight the path of the Lord to 2400 human beings.