The Lord will not delay: meditation on the second Sunday of Advent

By Fr Gabriel of St Mary Magdalene OCD   |   4 December 2024

From Divine Intimacy

Prelude

I place myself in the presence of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, to receive His twofold invitation to confidence and repentance, contained in this Sunday’s liturgy.

1

After we have considered the sublime programme of sanctification which we should follow, it is very consoling to consider the magnificent texts of this Sunday’s liturgy. They invite us to have complete trust in God’s help. “Thy salvation cometh quickly: why art thou wasted with sorrow? … I will save thee and deliver thee, fear not. … As a mother comforteth her sons, so will I comfort thee, saith the Lord.” (Roman Breviary). God does not want anxiety or discouragement. If He proposes to us an exalted way of sanctity, He does not leave us alone, but comes to help and sustain us.

This Sunday’s Mass shows clearly how Jesus comes not only for the people of Israel, for a small number of the elect, but also for the Gentiles, for all men. “Behold the Lord shall come to save the nations” (introit), Therefore, let us have confidence and rejoice, as St Paul exhorts us, “Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing that you may abound in hope.” (Rom 15: 4–13). And in order to stimulate our hope in Christ, the Gospel (Mt 11:2–10) presents His wonderful works: “The blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cured, the deaf hear, the dead rise again, the poor have the gospel preached to them.”

There is no physical or moral misery which Jesus cannot cure. He asks only that we go to Him with a heart dilated by faith, and with complete trust in His all-powerful, merciful love.

2

In this Sunday’s Gospel Jesus directs our attention to the strong, austere figure of John the Baptist. “What went you out to see? A reed shaken by the wind? … A man clothed in soft garments?”

If we want to prepare our hearts for Jesus’ coming, we, like St John the Baptist, must detach ourselves from all the goods of earth. John had left everything and gone into the desert to lead a life of penance. 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. We must persevere in this waiting, in spite of aridity and discouragement. “The Lord shall appear and shall not deceive us: if He make any delay, wait for Him, for He will come and will not tarry.” (Roman Breviary).

To our interior recollection, let us add a greater spirit of penance and mortification. Let us examine our generosity in practicing the penances and mortifications prescribed by our Rule, and those which we have imposed upon ourselves with the approval of our confessor or superior. If we discover that we are lax in this regard, it would be well to resolve to do something more: some mortification at meals, in our rest, or in our clothing, some work that is hard or painful to nature.

If we wish to taste the sweet joys of Christmas, we should know how to prepare ourselves with these dispositions which the Church invites us to pray for today: “We beseech You, O Lord, to teach us … to despise the things of earth and to love those of heaven.” (Roman Missal).

Colloquy

O my Saviour, Word of God, how can I doubt that You are coming upon earth to save and sanctify me? Why do I not go to You with complete, loving confidence, when You have spared nothing to show me Your infinitely merciful love? Your Incarnation, Your infant tears, Your humble, hidden life, Your apostolate, Your miracles, Your sorrowful Passion and death, all Your precious Blood poured out, shall they not be enough to make me believe in Your love, to open my heart in the most complete confidence?

“I repeat with all confidence the humble prayer of the publican. Most of all do I imitate the behaviour of Magdalen, for her amazing — rather I should say her loving — audacity, which delighted Your heart. … I am certain that even if I had on my conscience every imaginable crime, I should lose nothing of my confidence, but would throw myself, my heart broken with sorrow, into Your arms, for I remember Your love for the prodigal son who returns to You.” (St Therese of the Child Jesus, Story of a Soul, 12)

With this confidence, O my Jesus, I will resume my way and begin again my poor efforts.

During this Advent, You invite me to greater recollection, to greater interior and exterior silence, so that I may be able to hear Your voice and prepare for Your coming. Help me, then, to quiet my continual chatter about useless things, the discordant voices of nature, self-love, sensitiveness, the distracting prattle of my fantasies, imaginations, thoughts and useless preoccupations.

I acknowledge that often my mind and heart are like a raging sea in which the waves thunder continually; and yet, if You wish, a sign from You will be enough to make calm return and all be silent.

Yes, You teach me that interior silence exacts detachment from self and from creatures, exacts interior and exterior mortification. For love of You I will mortify my curiosity, curiosity of my eyes, ears, thoughts, and imagination. I also want to silence my passions and, therefore, I resolve to be more generous in the practice of corporal mortification.

O eternal Word, my Saviour, draw all my powers to Yourself; fasten my interior gaze upon Yourself, so that I shall no longer seek or hear anything or anyone but You alone, eternal Word of my eternal God!