– Isaiah 11:1–10 • Romans 15:4–9 • Matthew 3:1–12 – 

Advent has always surprised me. Has it ever surprised you? I observe that when everyone is rushing into Christmas with carols, sales, deals and enough lights to be seen from outer space, the Scriptures take us somewhere very different… from the shopping mall to the wilderness. And standing there in the sand is John the Baptist, looking like he has not seen a mirror, a barber, or a comfortable chair in quite some time.

But John’s message is crystal clear: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” And Advent insists that this preparation is not about tidying up the house, though that does not hurt, but it is about opening the heart. This is because the One who is coming only wants our willingness.

Isaiah gives us a breathtaking vision to stir that willingness: a tiny shoot growing from the stump of Jesse. God’s promise emerges not in splendor, but in surprising smallness. This is a reminder that hope often begins as a whisper. From this fragile shoot comes a Messiah who will judge with justice, defend the poor, and heal creation itself. Wolves and lambs, cows and bears, children and serpents, creatures that don’t normally get along, will stand together in peace. Isaiah is saying: Where the Messiah rules, fear loses its power.

St. Paul picks up that same melody of hope and harmony. He urges us to live in such unity that together we may “glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” In other words, Christians should be God’s preview clip, showing the world what His kingdom looks like.

But the gospel of John reminds us that this is not automatic. Fruit must follow faith. The valleys in our hearts, old resentments, tired grudges, selfish habits, need filling. The mountains, our pride, our stubbornness, need leveling. Conversion is not a spiritual crash diet; it is a slow, steady, joyful work with the Holy Spirit as our coach.

So, this week, let us dare to make room: maybe a small act of forgiveness, a word of encouragement, a moment of prayer that breaks through the noise. Advent teaches us that Christ’s coming always begins with a small opening.

And if we make that opening, even in the wilderness of our busy lives, the Messiah will grow in us like that shoot of Jesse, quietly, steadily, and beautifully, until hope becomes real and peace becomes possible.

Your Priest,

Father Charles Enyinnia