First for Advent

Here is the text of the homily I shared with the gathered community, a meditation on the scriptures proper for the first Sunday of Advent, especially in light of my recent pilgrimage to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadaloupe in Mexico City.

The hour to wake from your sleep

On Thursday morning of last week, a group of forty people set out on an adventure that took us to the mid-point of the continent which some refer to as the Americas.  Once we had cleared customs in Mexico City, the first stop was the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadaloupe.  Having safely arrived, this was our first occasion to visit with the patroness of the Americas, and to thank our Mother for safe passage.  Before we began the adventure, I already knew that Mexico is one of the most densely populated countries in the Americas, and I also knew that most of the population in that country are practicing Catholics, but knowing these things and experiencing them first hand are two different things.

Mexico City is home to 21 million people, so from the moment we stepped foot outside of the airport, I knew that we were in a vast crowd of people. When we arrived at the Shrine of Our Lady, the throng of people who were gathered in the church participating at Mass made me think of the vision of Isaiah that is described in today’s first reading: It seemed as though we were indeed seeing nations streaming toward the mountain of the Lord.  Every Mexican knows the story of Our Lady of Guadaloupe: that she appeared on the hilltop of Tepyac to a young Indian boy named Juan Diego, that she proved her existence through a miracle of roses which bloomed in mid-December – in the coldest month of the year, and that when the Bishop of Mexico City asked for proof of who she was, she provided an image of herself imprinted upon the tilma, the mantle that covered Juan Diego’s upper body.  Today, people stream to the Shrine in Mexico City from all the nations of the earth in order to pray for the Virgin’s intercession, for they trust in her maternal protection and the words she spoke to Juan Diego when he himself was in distress: No estoy yo aqui que soy tu madre?  (Am I not here, I who am your mother?)

During the week we spent in Mexico City and its surroundings, we did not meet anyone of great political importance or influence.  We did however see thousands of simple folk, people just like you and me, who gathered in churches to pray.  When I invited the people on our bus to pray at the beginning of the day, I also witnessed the bus driver and the guide who would make the sign of the cross, even though I wasn’t sure they understood any English.  The staff of the hotels we stayed in, and even other guests who were there all recognized the collar I wore, and joyfully greeted me: Buenos dias padre!  I couldn’t help thinking that Mexico is a very different place from Canada, in terms of the weather yes, but also in terms of a different kind of climate made evident by religious fervor.  Many times when priests wear Roman collars in Canada, it seems as though the society in which we live either turns a blind eye to anything which speaks of religion or perhaps tolerates it with lukewarm interest at best.  Rare are the instances when joyful greetings are exchanged in public places in the same way as I witnessed them this week.  Instead of being a place where faith is recognized and celebrated, it seems that ours is a country much more like today’s gospel account of the days of Noah: a time when people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, living life with little or no heed being paid to the signs of salvation and hope that are in our midst.

As we begin the Season of Advent today, the scripture passages we have heard proclaimed for us challenge us to wake from our sleep, to dare to live our faith joyfully, even though others in our midst would rather ignore any sign of faith.  It takes great courage to dare to be different, to throw off the works of darkness which society might tempt us to accept and to put on the armour of light.  As we begin this new liturgical year, and as we prepare in the coming weeks for the celebration of Christmas, let’s do something more than worrying about whether the presents all get wrapped.  Take a moment right now to consider one way in which we can put on the Lord Jesus Christ.  The Virgin of Tepyac calls also to us: Am I not here, I who am your mother?  Invite our Blessed Mother to help you find at least one way in which you can live your faith joyfully this Advent.  She who once prepared her own self to welcome her son knows how to help us to prepare for the celebration of his birthday, so ask her to help you to wake from your sleep and be a person of faith, a person of hope, a person of love and a person of joy.