Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Matthew 3:1–12
When life held little responsibility, and my most significant decision was whether to spend my entire paycheck at The Gap or Banana Republic, a Biblical figure like John the Baptist was of no use to me. He was an odd man in a camel hair shirt who chose to live in the wilderness, embracing a life of simplicity and poverty. As an Upper East Side material girl, working in the entertainment industry, his life was my worst nightmare. Give me all the pleasure, applause, and convenience, and hand me a margarita on the rocks while you’re at it.
Fast forward thirty-five years, and this former city girl turned backyard chicken keeper will happily trade the hustle and bustle of this world for the quiet of the desert—especially this time of year.
On the second Sunday of Advent, as the world spins into a secular Christmas hysteria, our liturgy gently guides us to a better, calmer, and holier way of journeying. How? With an invitation into the wilderness of Judea, where we encounter John the Baptist, preaching a message of repentance as he urges each of us: "Prepare the way of the Lord" (Matthew 3:3).
Have you prepared His way?
I’m not asking if you are finished with your shopping, wrapping, or baking.
I’m asking about your interior readiness, the preparedness of your heart.
You see, the call to repentance goes beyond a feeling. It implies a new direction, an internal change. It demands taking action. “We have all fallen short of the glory of God; we have all fallen into patterns of self-absorption and addiction.”[1] These are Bishop Barron’s words, not my own, and if his words are true—and I believe that they are—then the secular hoopla the world calls “preparation” is not preparation at all. It is distraction. And it will not suffice. As believers, our preparation must go deeper than a batch of sugar cookies and a strategically placed Elf on the Shelf; it must get to the heart.
Is your heart prepared?
Because mine is not. Truth be told, I am a bit of a mess. I am too caught up in the worry and what-ifs; you know, the anxiety that comes with complicated family dynamics and stretched-thin finances. The fact that I am a professional co-dependent, with zero boundaries, doesn’t help. I feel everyone else's feelings as if it were my job. I do not recommend this, but if you can relate, you understand the appeal of escaping the world's chaos for a life of solitude in the desert.
It is the devil's scheme, you know, that gets us doing more, that has fooled us into thinking that production equals preparation, when in reality, we should be pruning. Advent is not the time to add more to our plates. It is a cry to scrape off the excess. Remember, Our Lady wasn’t asked to be the Mother of God because she was the most productive; she was asked because her heart had room.
We must make room. But how?
What helps me is to remember that Advent is not only a time to prepare for Christ’s birth, but also His return. Did you know that, traditionally, Advent was referred to as a “little Lent” because of its penitential nature? It was not a Christmas countdown, but a time for spiritual inventory, to practice self-denial, to get quiet and reflect. “John had left everything and gone into the desert to lead a life of penance,” writes Father Gabriel. “His example invites us to retire into the interior desert of our heart, far from creatures, to await the coming of Jesus in deep recollection, silence, and solitude, insofar as the duties of our state in life permit.”[2]
If this sounds like one big rainstorm on your Christmas parade, understand that this doesn’t mean we are not joyous. Unlike Lent, Advent has no Passion; we await the birth of a baby, which is always cause for celebration! True, Lent and Advent share the call to prepare, but “Advent’s focus is uniquely twofold: looking back on Christ’s first coming in the manger and forward to His return in glory. This dual focus gives Advent a tension that is both joyful and sobering.”[3]
Practically speaking, how do we live this?
According to John the Baptist, the way to live in this tension is through preparation, specifically, by making His paths straight—the paths of our hearts. Psalm 84:5 comes to mind: “Blessed are the men whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.” It is the heart that draws us nearer to God. It is by way of the heart that we welcome Jesus. And so we must be vigilant about removing any obstacles that keep us from Him. And the good news is that we already have everything we need to straighten the paths and prepare the way.
Here are three ways to prepare your heart this Advent.
Daily Scripture reading.
Frequent confession.
Frequent reception of the Eucharist.
With just over two weeks to go, a few minutes each day dedicated to reading Scripture will help you understand God’s will for your life. This will make clear what you can take off your Christmas plate, and what is good to leave on. A good confession will remove any roadblocks to God’s grace, while the Eucharist will fill any potholes as it strengthens your relationship with the Lord.
As the frenzy of the world increases, and make no mistake, it will increase, the temptation to run away and hide from it all runs deep for me. Praise be to God that I do not have to disappear from my family and loved ones to reclaim my sanity: I can retire to the interior wilderness; I can make straight the paths in the desert of my heart.
And so can you.
Food for thought or journaling …
What “excess” do you need to scrape off your Advent plate?
How can you make Advent look less like a material bonanza and more like a “little Lent?”
Heavenly Father, thank You for the example of John the Baptist, our fearless model of how to prepare the way for Your Son. Help us to trade the secular production for the quiet desert of our hearts, removing all obstacles, clearing the way, and making every path straight that leads to You. Amen.
P.S. One last thing, friends! If the quiet has been hard to find, join me on the podcast this Advent. You’ll get your daily Scripture in as well as a shot of encouragement, helping you to resist the noise of the world and choose the quiet of the desert!
[1] Bishop Robert Barron, The Word on Fire Bible (Volume 1): The Gospels, (Park Ridge, IL, Word on Fire Catholic Ministries), 40.
[2] Father Gabriel of Saint Mary Magdalene, Divine Intimacy, (Baronius Press, MMXXII), 25.
[3] Ryan Bilodeau, “The Forgotten Penitential Roots of Advent: 3 Ways to Live This Season as a ‘Little Lent,'” ChurchPop.com, November 26, 2024, https://www.churchpop.com/the-forgotten-penitential-roots-of-advent-3-ways-to-live-this-season-as-a-little-lent/.
