“And the angel left her.” This is the final line from the story of the Annunciation of Jesus’ birth in the Gospel of Luke (Luke 1:26-38). The story of the Annunciation is the most frequent gospel reading during the month of Advent. A messenger from God somehow informs Mary that she will be the mother of the Son of God, whom she will name Jesus. Mary asks about how this could come about. She is engaged with all the rights of a married person, but she has yet had no “relations with a man.” The angel replies, “Leave that up to God, who alone can do impossible things” – at least impossible for our minds to comprehend. When Mary states, “Let it be as you have said, I am God’s willing servant,” the angel departs, without a further word, stage right. I find this exit very stark, even cold.

Think about it.You’ve had dreams and plans for how your life would play out. You are about to be married to a good man, a hard worker, honest and faithful. Suddenly all that seems to be turned upside down. And you’re not even able to get a hint on how this astonishing promise will unfold. You don’t question or doubt your, “Yes,” but now you are left alone to explain this potentially socially-awkward situation – unmarried and pregnant. Especially since “adultery,” when discovered, was subject to being stoned to death. The angel left.

Mary hurried out of town to visit her older, wise relative, Elizabeth, whom the angel informed Mary was miraculously six months pregnant with a son of her own (who would grow up to be John the Baptizer). Maybe Elizabeth had some counsel for her. At least the long journey and time away would give Mary a chance to reflect on how to proceed, before the pregnancy began to “show.”

Of course, everything turns out incredibly well. As happens when we give God enough room to do grace-full work. But often, it seems, after we commit ourselves to a difficult path because we understand that this is what God desires of and for us, the initial comfort and consolation disappears and we are left (so it feels) alone to work things out. This is not easy. Social pressure, short cuts, compromises emerge and offer their  wonderful solutions to “take care of our problem.” 

At this point we need to check deep inside and rediscover, or remember, those moments when we had the felt-sense of God’s powerful and caring presence, when we knew, without a doubt, that God was totally faithful, no matter what. Sometimes we need the angel to leave us to grow up in our believing, beyond anything we thought possible.

When we last left the people of Judah they were feeling pretty righteous and comfortable about themselves and their God. But the First Reading for the Second Sunday of Advent starts with a cry from the prophet Isaiah, “Comfort, give comfort to my people!” What’s going on? This reading is from Chapter 40 of the Book of Isaiah. This chapter begins the second major part of the prophecy. Most likely it was written many years later than the first part, and possibly by a disciple of the first Isaiah. The people of Judah suffered the same fate as their Northern relatives. They were conquered and carried away into exile; this time by the Babylonians, who had taken over power and dominance from the Assyrians.

Now the Judeans need this comforting vision: This exile won’t last forever. There will come a restoration by God, and things will be better than ever for Jerusalem and its people. They have paid fully for their sins of infidelity and disobedience to God. Just hang in there, and prepare a way for God to work in you and in the world. Yes, you will need to pass through a wilderness time, but God rules, and will be like a gentle shepherd guiding and caring for you – not a tyrant who demands that you continue to grovel and suffer – like your captors.

Still no hint of Christmas. We are given the opportunity to maintain our quiet reflection on our lives and on who God is for us. But in the Gospel, the beginning of the Gospel of Mark, John the Baptizer appears out of the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance. “Consider the ways you have been unfaithful and care-less to and about God and God’s ways for you. Turn your head around straight and do what you know to be right and good.” The message parallels that of Isaiah. “Get your act together, because God is about to do something amazing and new – better than ever before. Everything’s about to change, big time!”

When have we been in exile? Feeling lost and distant from even our truest selves? Not sure of how to find our way back to where we belong? When have we needed to review our life and reset our course? Isaiah, and John the Baptizer, are inviting us to not get ahead of ourselves – to take care of business now, so that we can be ready for something better, soon.

This year, approaching the season of Advent, I had this strange thought: Advent is not about Christmas! Advent is about Advent. Yes, it’s placed liturgically around four weeks before Christmas, but Advent is its own spiritual opportunity. If we live Advent well, there’s a good chance we’ll be ready to celebrate Christmas with all the depth it deserves, when that amazing feast arrives.

The readings of the First Sunday of Advent don’t give any hint about Jesus’ birth. They’re all about being ready for the End Times. Then during  the First Week of Advent, we have a series of readings from the prophet Isaiah. The first part of the Book of Isaiah, chapters 1-39, was written when everything was fine and dandy in the Southern Kingdom of Judah. The people were prospering and patting themselves on the back for their staunch fidelity (as they understood it) to God. And they were comparing themselves to their kin of the Northern Kingdom who had been dragged off to Assyria after they had been defeated and their main city, Samaria, had been overrun and destroyed. Those idiots in the North (obviously) hadn’t been faithful to God (like us).  And the vibe at the time was that their grand, high, and fortified city, Jerusalem (God’s preferred spot in the whole world), would serve as center of welcome when God decided those Northerners had suffered enough in exile. Then they would be one, great people again. Optimism reigned – for a time. 

On Monday of Week One, Isaiah (Isaiah 2:1-5) rolls out a vision of the whole world streaming to Jerusalem, from which God’s Law would come forth. God will judge all peoples there, and settle any disputes between nations. (There’s a terrible, painful irony in this.) They will melt down and forge their swords into plows, and they will rework their spears into instruments to prune branches of fruit. This will mark the end of the ongoing bitter conflicts among peoples. Weapons will no longer have any use. And in an astonishing claim, nations will no longer learn how to make war.  Nations will forget how to fight one another in mortal combat. At the end (verse 5), the prophet stuck this caveat: Israel come, let’s walk in the light that God gives! 

Yes, that’s the missing piece/peace in our world of divisiveness and constant warring. We refuse to walk in the Light of the World, Jesus, sent by God. Millions of people continue to suffer and die because we will not choose or act as God desires. Where is the Ho, Ho, Ho, in that? We have much work to do before Christmas.