Homily for the 1st Sunday of Advent: Journey or Destination?

1st Sunday of Advent, B                                                                                November 29, 2020
Fr. Albert                                                                                St. John the Evangelist, Jeanerette

“It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey.” You’ve probably heard that in conversation or on TV, or perhaps read it on cards and inspirational placards. As a reminder to take our time and enjoy things on our way through life, it speaks to an important truth. Yet, taken at face value, it is actually quite wrong and dangerously so. When you apply it to life as a whole, the saying can leave a person in existential dread, wondering what the point of living is, especially when a particular part of their journey is difficult or full of suffering. If you have no destination, then there is no journey – you’re left sitting still or wandering aimlessly.

No, the truth is that life is about the destination. Human beings need purpose and reason; Sometimes we want to find it so bad that we make it up or find reasons that aren’t real, but the basic instinct is right. There is a reason for this journey through life, there is a destination and that destination is the most important thing.

That is why we begin this new liturgical year by looking at the destination. While the world is busy shopping and celebrating, the heart of the Church fixates on something much less cheerful – the Apocalypse. Notice that our readings don’t even mention the baby Jesus, or Joseph and Mary, or the archangel Gabriel. Christmas is in many ways an important beginning of our journey, but we start with a look at the end of the world. Jesus’ parable is about being alert and ready for his second coming and St. Paul’s letter starts with a prayer of thanksgiving for the grace to be ready for the day of judgment.

Why? To remind us what this journey of life is for. Soon, we will follow the humble, yet ineffably glorious journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem. Like them, our journey through life has a definite goal, even if we don’t always understand what that is. Joseph was obeying a census, Mary was accompanying her husband and happened to be pregnant with the divine child. God, however, knew quite well that the real reason for their journey was to fulfill the prophecy of where the messiah was to be born, a small town named Bethlehem, which means “house of bread” in Hebrew.

So too we may well think we lead our journey through this life for a variety of reasons or none at all. The decisions we make, the way we interpret our experiences, our willingness to endure suffering or to change course will all depend on how we view the purpose. So, Jesus Christ and the Church often remind people that the goal is heaven – an eternal exchange of love, a place of perfect communion. They remind us that getting to this destination is not automatic or passive, but that each of us is like a servant in a household with responsibilities to keep until the master comes home. The journey is not a change of place, but a change of hearts from selfish consumption to self-sacrificial love.

But knowing that truth is not enough. How many well-educated Christians get caught in addiction? Fall for political manipulation? Hold on to grudges? Sink into despair? How many times have you and I shirked our responsibilities or given in to outright sin? Do we not know better? We do, yet we so often lack the resolve, the strength, the presence of mind to act like it. Isaiah expresses it well, “we are sinful; all of us have become like unclean people, all our good deeds are like polluted rags… our guilt carries us away like the wind.”

Even before that, he asks an insightful question “why do you let us wander, O Lord, from your ways, and harden our hearts so that we fear you not?” There’s a painful mystery here and it’s part of the reason Advent starts with the end. Without God’s grace, we are hopeless. Even when we know the truth, we cannot live it without supernatural help. It gets even worse. If we fail to live the truth, we lose the ability to recognize the truth. Our habits form and shape our minds and actually limit our mind’s ability to perceive the truth. This is what is meant when God “hardens our hearts” and when he “delivers us up to our guilt.”

This is why those who turn their backs on God make such absurd mistakes. It’s why some people ridicule religion as make-believe yet follow horoscopes and practice witchcraft. It’s why even brilliant doctors and scientists fail to see that an unborn child is a human being. It’s why men like ex-Cardinal McCarrick really don’t see the horror of their crimes and hold to the idea that they are simply misunderstood. Sin and faithlessness inevitably lead to foolishness, to an inability to see even natural truth much less supernatural truth.

So, humanity finds itself less on a journey and more trapped in a vicious cycle of weakness, sin, falsehood, and yet more sin. Rather fittingly, as the days grow shorter and colder, the Church calls to mind the darkness of this human condition.

But she never does this without hope. The point of looking at the end of the world and our own weakness is not to inspire despair, but to lay the foundation of humility. After his lament of weakness, Isaiah offers up this brief prayer “Yet, O Lord, you are our father; we are the clay and you the potter: we are all the work of your hands.” Our Psalm builds on this with the cry “make us turn to you.” St. Paul likewise emphasizes that “Jesus will keep you firm to the end.”

The exhortation of Jesus himself is telling. Even after noting the responsibilities of the servants, he simply tells us “watch!” Even as we Catholics emphasize good deeds, fasting, and giving alms, we must never forget the radical abandonment that is required by faith. Because, our hope is not in our own willpower to change our ways, but in the mysterious ways that God works from within us to do what it takes for us to both recognize the truth and live it. Even as we strive to do our best, we must humbly look to God and admit that we are powerless. To inspire humility, we remember that God will come in judgment. To inspire hope, we remember that Himself has already come to make us ready. The journey matters precisely because it is about the destination. That destination is not someplace, but someone. It is someone who loves us more than we can imagine. The question is, will we let Him love us? Will we love him back? Or will we get too caught up in the journey and forget why we’re taking one in the first place?