You may notice in our pew missals that on every Sunday and feast day, in addition to the Responsorial Psalm, there are three antiphons–Entrance, Offertory, and Communion–listed. Eventually we will move toward using these antiphons more frequently in our Masses. They are almost always passages from Scripture and they help us to enter into the Liturgy in a deeper way. The antiphons help us to think and to pray with the Church. They are not randomly chosen, but rather give a profound cohesiveness to our prayer and meditation. The antiphons are a marvelous treasury of spiritual nourishment and I encourage you each week to look them over as a way of entering into the Sacred Mysteries. A good example of this would be today’s Entrance Antiphon. The Third Sunday of Advent, which we celebrate today, is often referred to as, “Gaudete Sunday.” It is called that because the first word of today’s Entrance Antiphon is “Rejoice” (in Latin, “Gaudete”). It is taken from St. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians, is, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I say rejoice. Indeed, the Lord is near.” This antiphon is a key for unlocking the mysteries of today’s Liturgy. It also binds us all together. It binds us not only to one another here at St. Patrick Parish, but it binds us together with the whole Church throughout the ages. It binds us to all of salvation history, to the patriarchs, prophets, to all who longed for Christ, to the apostles, the saints, and to Christians in every time and place. One of the things that draws me to these antiphons is that they are for everyone. The antiphons are not chosen based upon how we feel or what we want to hear. They are given. Sometimes in life, we read things or listen to things depending upon our mood, right? In the Liturgy, it works the other way. The Liturgy indicates to us what our disposition should be. So, whether we arrived at Mass today in the mood for rejoicing or whether we arrived here feeling far from rejoicing, it does not matter. The antiphon is the same for all of us. It instructs us that all of us should rejoice. Does that mean that the Liturgy is telling us that by our sheer force of will we should rejoice despite how we might feel? No. The antiphon tells us precisely why we should rejoice. We should rejoice because the Lord is near. We should always rejoice. We should rejoice when things are all going well and we should rejoice when things are falling apart. Why? Because the Lord is near. We rejoice not because of our circumstances, but because the Lord is near to us. True rejoicing is always because of the nearness of the Lord. Does that mean that the Church’s liturgy is insensitive to people’s circumstances, sufferings, and pain? No! It’s the exact opposite. The Liturgy is saying, “You who are weighed down by many burdens, you can still rejoice because the Lord is near to you. He loves you. He is close to you. Circumstances and situations might be awful right now, but there is good news for you. The Lord is near to you.” This antiphon comes to us, in fact, during the darkest days of the year. It’s as though the Liturgy is reminding us that whatever darkness is present in our life, we can still rejoice because the Lord is close at hand. I want to say to anyone who reads these words today, but especially to those who are heavily burdened; to those who are suffering from illness, those weighed down by grief, depression, addiction, anxiety, marital problems, family problems; to those weighed down by the memory of past sins or the struggle with present sins; to those who feel alone; to those who feel as though they are a burden to others; to those who feel as though they are a disappointment or that their life has not turned out how they thought; to those who feel weak in faith and who are on the brink of despair; and especially to those who feel unloved: To all of you: Today is for you. Today you are free to rejoice because the Lord is near to you. He is always near to you. Are you still thinking that your situation precludes you from rejoicing? The Liturgy today is prepared for such a reaction. The Communion Antiphon is taken from the Lord’s words to the Prophet Isaiah: “Say to the faint of heart: Be strong and do not fear. Behold, our God will come, and he will save us.” God is speaking to you. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes

A central, albeit mysterious, figure who appears especially during Advent is St. John the Baptist. He is the one who prepares the way for the Messiah. If John’s message were to be distilled into a single word, it would likely be, “Repent!” There is something in us that recoils from this call to “repent.” Perhaps our reluctance to respond positively to this term arises from the experience of seeing some angry person on a street corner shouting, “Repent!” Often enough, people who call us to repentance seem less interested in our well-being than they do in promoting their own sense of self-righteousness. While telling us to repent, they seem to separate themselves from the rest of us. It can feel as though they are suggesting that they themselves have no need of repentance. They convey a sense that they are fully prepared already and they are warning the rest of us. (But, even though they are warning us, you get the sense that they would much rather leave us in our unprepared state. They like giving warnings more than they actually want to help us.) John the Baptist appears as a sign. I think it is interesting that he appears in the desert. He is not on a street corner or in the main square. He is in the desert. He is where there is emptiness, dryness, and silence. He practices an ascetic life, wearing camel hair clothing and eating locusts. Unusual? Yes, but his witness attracts people. They come to see him. The people go out to the desert to see John and to hear him. Seeing his witness and hearing his message, what do they do? They acknowledge their sins and are baptized. They repent. John’s figure is so interesting to me. Clearly, his appearance must have been somewhat startling. Startling too was his message. Yet, people were drawn to him. They came to him and were moved to do something that is so difficult for us human beings. They admitted their faults. They admitted that they needed to change. They admitted they were wrong. They acknowledged their sins. This humble acknowledgement of sins and the desire to turn away from them is what prepares us to welcome the Lord. One of the greatest privileges of being a priest is to witness people repent of their sins. It is such an extraordinary thing to hear someone acknowledge that they, in fact, have sinned. I cannot tell you how moving it is to sit on the other side of the screen and listen to a person say things like, “I have been so arrogant. I have been so selfish. I have had such a hardened heart. I have been filled with hatred. I have committed lustful acts, been deceptive, or spiritually lazy.” When I hear those (and many other things), all I can think is, “Blessed Be God!” What an amazing work of grace must be happening in this person’s heart to make them able to do this courageous thing! Similarly, it is absolutely extraordinary to hear someone come to confess something that they have been carrying around for years, maybe even decades. As time goes on, they feel paralyzed from ever bringing this matter to confession. They think too much time has passed. Somehow, however, by God’s grace, they bring this matter to the confessional, and what happens? Does the roof of the church collapse? Does the priest die of shock? No, the Church rejoices and provides this brave and repentant soul with the medicine of mercy. John the Baptist is indeed a central figure of Advent. His appearance and his message are a bit startling. His appearance and his message are different. They do not seek center stage. He is not a social media influencer, a wielder of political power, or a TV personality. He appears outside the limelight, in the quiet of the desert. Somehow, people recognized that there was something true about his message. He was saying something that–even though difficult to hear–was necessary for their life. His call to repentance was authentic. The people went to him and acknowledged their sins. They prepared the way of the Lord. Dear Friends, this Advent, John the Baptist is once again appearing and calling to us from the solitude of the desert. His message is as true today as it was two thousand years ago. He does not only call us to repent, but he wants us to know that repentance is indeed possible. He is calling us to risk leaving the busy cities of our lives; the places that seem to offer us flashy solutions to our weary hearts. He is calling us to the place of repentance, to the quiet of the confessional where we can humbly acknowledge our sins, receive mercy, and to prepare a place for the Lord. In the next few weeks, there are innumerable opportunities to go to confession–here and elsewhere–and to experience that incredible joy that comes from repentance. Be courageous! And remember what the Gospel says today. All the people were going out to John and acknowledging their sins. You might think you’re the biggest and worst sinner in the whole world. If you do think that, “Blessed Be God!” That’s a sign of true sorrow and repentance. The rest of us who are standing in line with you, we are thinking the same thing about ourselves. And when we leave the confessional, we are no longer thinking of ourselves. We are thinking about the Lord and how kind and merciful He is. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes