Comfort, But Not Control: The Wisdom of Advent
by Fr. Rich Andre, C.S.P.
December 11, 2023

Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for the Second Sunday of Advent (Year B) on December 10, 2023 at The Paulist Center in Boston, MA. The homily is based on the day’s readings: Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11; Psalm 85; 2 Peter 3:8-14; and Mark 1:1-8.

Our first reading today is perhaps the most hopeful passage in the entire Old Testament. In Babylon, at the lowest point in Israel’s history, God proclaims through Isaiah: “Comfort, give comfort to my people…. Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill shall be made low… The glory of the Lord shall be revealed… Cry out at the top of your voice… Like a shepherd he feeds his flock. ” George Frederic Handel crafted 5 movements and 19 minutes of his oratorio, The Messiah, from this passage alone!

December 10 is the latest that the Second Sunday of Advent can fall. This far into the secular Christmas shopping season, it’s hard for many of us to stay tuned to this beautiful promise of trust and hope. But let us try, for today, or for at least this hour, to enjoy the quiet stillness, the hopeful anticipation of the Advent of the God of Mercy. 


Every year on this Second Sunday of Advent, we trot out our brother John the Baptist, who calls us to repentance. All of our gospels agree that John is the voice in the desert crying out, “Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God!” In fact, our first reading today is the very passage that our gospel writers quote. Here in Mark’s account, it sounds possible that John the Baptist is also conveying God’s promise of comfort and hope. 

Advent is the time of awaiting God’s promises, but how can we feel comfortable or hopeful in a time when our divisions seem to keep getting deeper? The 2024 election is still 11 months off, but the fighting is already ugly. Political parties and media companies, among others, have a vested interest in making the valleys lower and the mountains higher. That, in turn, drives many of us to surround ourselves with people who agree with us, comforting ourselves into believing that our shared narrative is pragmatic, logical, and sanctioned by God. We stand upon our mountain, waiting for those standing on the other peak to see the error of their ways, cross the deepening valley, and come join us in the light of truth on our elevated home turf.

But that’s not what John the Baptist did. He went to the Jordan River, which sits at the lowest point on the earth. He did not cry out to the Pharisees and Sadducees alone. He invited everyone to acknowledge their sins, to repent, and to be baptized. 

The Second Sunday of Advent is an ideal weekend of the year to talk about the phenomenon known as social sin. We can all see things that are terribly wrong in our society, but millions of us don’t acknowledge how we ourselves participate in the systems that perpetuate poverty, racism, environmental catastrophe, toxic polarization, and injustice… because what’s easiest to see are the short-term benefits for ourselves. Our attitudes and actions contribute to the rifts that separate us from our fellow human beings. Like in the time of John the Baptist, we are all called to repent. 

Isaiah says that “the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together.” I can’t help but wonder: if I continue to separate myself from people who are different from me, how will any of us be able to see the glory of the LORD… together?

One experience that brought me into relationship with people very different from myself was preaching and presiding at the monthly Masses inside the Knox County Detention Facility in Knoxville, TN. The most spiritually moving Masses of the year were the ones during Advent. Think about it: these prisoners were literally in captivity. They were constantly subjected to personal indignities. (Imagine receiving communion while wearing handcuffs!) They were isolated from their loved ones, waiting for a hearing, an appeal, a grant of parole, or at least a visit from a loved one. They depended completely on their court-appointed lawyers and God’s mercy. Most of them had repented of their sins. 

At one Advent Mass in the jail, I asked the guys: what do you want me to preach to other people, to help build bridges? They pointed out that God often calls people that we would prefer to condemn. Moses was an escapee wanted for murder. St. Paul persecuted Christians. The prisoners issued a challenge to all of us on the outside: we need to get outside of our comfort zones and know our brothers and sisters who are different from us!

We are the ones who must go down into the valley and meet people on their own mountains. Or to put it another way: We can’t possibly live out God’s promise of comfort, unless we first step outside of our comfort zones! 

The key to finding spiritual comfort… is in giving up control of the details. We need to take the risks of putting ourselves in dialogue with those who think differently than us. We have to trust in God’s plan. Then, as our second reading said, we can be confident that God will not delay God’s promise. And then, the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together.