Bishop Ricard’s Christmas Message 2005
My dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
Over the years, I have heard many people say that the holy season of Advent is their favorite time of year. I believe this to be true for a number of reasons. We know from our liturgy that Advent is a time of preparation, of getting ready and of watching and waiting. It is a symbolic four week re-enactment of the careful, deliberate and patient watchfulness of ancient Israel for news of deliverance and liberation. Israel waited attentively for that sound or voice, however distant or remote, which would herald good news to their ears which were so used to bad news.
It is in this setting that Isaiah — the prophet most closely identified with Advent — suddenly emerges with a rich and compelling vocabulary filled with hope and expectations. He presents images of valleys and pastures, mountains and hills, roads and paths. In Isaiah’s vision, valleys and pastures are to be exalted, mountains and hills are made level; rough roads become smooth, and crooked paths become straight. These hope-filled words predict that, in the days to come, we who have been humbled by the struggles of this present life will be exalted and raised up like those valleys. Those stony, rough roads which cause us to stumble, fall and hurt ourselves will be made smooth. Those crooked paths which force us to detour from our dreams will be straightened out.
His prophetic musing does not stop there. He continues with images of wolves lying with lambs, children playing in a cobra’s den; and warriors beating battle spears into pruning hooks. Is there a human heart that is so hardened and closed that it cannot be moved by such powerful images of reconciliation and tranquility, peace and harmony?
To answer this question, perhaps we will find that a hardened heart is not as far away as we might think. We have to admit that considering the events of the past twelve months, we should not be surprised to find hearts doubting if God really cares about the world. Last December we became aware of the incalculable loss of life caused by the tsunami in Southeast Asia. On an almost daily basis we witnessed the continuing rise in the senseless violence of terrorists around the world. Here in our own back yard on the Gulf Coast, we understood the pain of the untold loss and destruction of life and property caused by hurricanes Dennis, Katrina and Rita. In such circumstances, it becomes hard to continue in hope to entrust our lives and futures to a God who allows such things to happen.
Yet at the deepest level of our being, God has planted something which enables us to go on. In a mysterious way, we somehow know, like the faithful Israelites in Isaiah’s day, that there is nothing that we endure in this imperfect world out of which God cannot bring eternal good and happiness. It is this belief which enables us to pick ourselves up every time we stumble, to listen with courage to that prophetic voice in the wilderness drawing us ever closer to union with God, who alone can calm our restlessness and wanderings.
Advent finds its meaning only in that it leads us to the feast of Christmas and to Christ himself. If the Advent prophets spoke words of comfort and joy, we can now experience Christ, the Eternal Word, as our comfort and joy. If the prophets promised a brighter sun and a brand-new day, Christ is now the Sun that never sets, and the great Day of rejoicing. Christ came into our world as the Redeemer who alone can raise us up from the dark valleys to himself and to the brightness of the Father’s glory.
Finally, even as we experience joy and peace at Christmas, our hearts and our prayers go out to all those who will not be home for Christmas because they no longer have a home. We express our solidarity with them by our charity and compassion. Christ came to do that for us. Can he expect anything less of us in return?
May you and all your loved ones be blessed with a Christmas filled with joy.
Sincerely yours in the Lord,
Most Rev. John H. Ricard, SSJ
Bishop of Pensacola-Tallahassee