Isn’t it funny that John the Baptist doesn’t have his own book in the Bible? He is, after all, the final prophet.
Turns out, much of Luke’s research involved a lost book of sayings from John. This is a normal thing for ancient writings—we know some texts exist because they’re referenced in other books, even though we no longer have a copy the original. Which can be seen as implicit evidence of the historicity of much of the New Testament.
How likely is it that we’d have all the texts from early Christianity? Especially from a time when Christians had to hide their beliefs due persecution? Not very. References to outside texts that have been lost to time is a sign of authenticity.
Reading I
Bar 5:1-9
Jerusalem, take off your robe of mourning and misery; put on the splendor of glory from God forever: wrapped in the cloak of justice from God, bear on your head the mitre that displays the glory of the eternal name. For God will show all the earth your splendor: you will be named by God forever the peace of justice, the glory of God’s worship.
Up, Jerusalem! stand upon the heights; look to the east and see your children gathered from the east and the west at the word of the Holy One, rejoicing that they are remembered by God. Led away on foot by their enemies they left you: but God will bring them back to you borne aloft in glory as on royal thrones. For God has commanded that every lofty mountain be made low, and that the age-old depths and gorges be filled to level ground, that Israel may advance secure in the glory of God. The forests and every fragrant kind of tree have overshadowed Israel at God’s command; for God is leading Israel in joy by the light of his glory, with his mercy and justice for company.
Baruch was Jeremiah’s assistant and scribe. He was taken into captivity in Babylonia, along with a huge portion of the Jewish population. He wrote this book in exile, but then was sent back to Jerusalem as an ambassador. There, Baruch was supposed to read these prophesies aloud, in front of the Temple and everyone. Obviously, this didn’t make the Babylonian soldiers, who were holding the city, very happy.
But he did it anyway, because that’s what God commanded him to do—bring good news to a world that desperately needs it.
Responsorial Psalm
Ps 126:1-2, 2-3, 4-5, 6.
R. The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.
When the LORD brought back the captives of Zion,
we were like men dreaming.
Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
and our tongue with rejoicing.
R. The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.
Then they said among the nations,
“The LORD has done great things for them.”
The LORD has done great things for us;
we are glad indeed.
R. The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.
Restore our fortunes, O LORD,
like the torrents in the southern desert.
Those who sow in tears
shall reap rejoicing.
R. The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.
Although they go forth weeping,
carrying the seed to be sown,
They shall come back rejoicing,
carrying their sheaves.
R. The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.
This Psalm was sung after the exiles returned. Naturally, it’s a song of thanksgiving. But the second half shifts gears, asking God for more help. Because returning home wasn’t sufficient. They had to settle in, and grow—not just the crops, but the people. Rescue from exile wouldn’t mean much if they all starved in Israel.
The Israelites had work to do, but they were willing to do it, with God’s help and blessing. That’s why the shall come back rejoicing, carrying sheaves.
Reading II
Phil 1:4-6, 8-11
Brothers and sisters: I pray always with joy in my every prayer for all of you, because of your partnership for the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus.
God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus. And this is my prayer: that your love may increase ever more and more in knowledge and every kind of perception, to discern what is of value, so that you may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.
As is common during Advent, the second reading is more related to the Second Coming than the initial incarnation on Christmas. Just as the ancient Israelites looked forward to the Messiah, so did the first Christians, and so do we.
Alleluia
Lk 3:4, 6
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths:
all flesh shall see the salvation of God.
R. Alleluia, alleluia.
Matthew, Mark, and Luke all refer to the 40th chapter of Isaiah.1 It’s not a small thing to tie Jesus in to the prophesies of the Old Testament. They all want you to know he’s the Messiah that was promised, although in an unexpected way.
Gospel
Lk 3:1-6
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the desert.
John went throughout the whole region of the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah: A voice of one crying out in the desert: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
Luke sets the events of Jesus’ life in a historical context—talking about emperors, governors, and tetrarchs. But when those people ascend to their seats of power, it’s announced by heralds and celebrated by courtiers across the kingdom.
Jesus, the king of kings, was announced by a crazy zealot shouting in the desert, and nobody really liked him much.2
God didn’t come into the world the way either the faithful Jews or the worldly Pagans expected. He was humble, and kept company with the meek and sinful.
As St. Paul’s reading reminds us, Jesus didn’t come into the world just once. He will come again. It’s likely to be in as unexpected a way as the first time.
That doesn’t mean we can prepare ourselves, and the world. We can still make straight the roads to our hearts, and smooth out the relationships in our community. Everyone will see God, either at the end of our time or the end of all time. Loving God and each other means we don’t have to be afraid of that.
In the next verse, people come to get baptized, and John calls them “a nest of vipers!”