A Penitent Blogger

Mindful of my imperfections, seeking to know Truth more deeply and to live Love more fully.

Quid sum miser tunc dicturus? Quem patronum rogaturus? Cum vix iustus sit securus?
Recordare, Iesu pie, Quod sum causa tuae viae: Ne me perdas illa die...

Saturday, December 03, 2005

An Advent shower

Isaiah’s prophecy in today’s first reading (Isaiah 30:19-21,23-26) is like standing in a long, comfortable shower of grace.

In his own time and in his own way, he will end all our grief and pain.

O people of Zion, who dwell in Jerusalem,
no more will you weep

We will feel his loving response in all our prayers.

He will be gracious to you when you cry out,
as soon as he hears he will answer you.

He will give us everything we truly need.

The Lord will give you the bread you need
and the water for which you thirst.

We will no longer feel confused or unsure.

No longer will your Teacher hide himself,
but with your own eyes you shall see your Teacher,
While from behind, a voice shall sound in your ears:
"This is the way; walk in it,"
when you would turn to the right or to the left.

We will realize how our personal idols – money, pursuits of the flesh, trendy philosophies – have hurt us (verse omitted in Lectionary).

And you shall consider unclean
your silver-plated idols and your gold-covered images;
You shall throw them away
like filthy rags to which you say, "Begone!"

We will no longer feel frustrated or desperate in anything we do, in our personal lives or in our daily work.

He will give rain for the seed that you sow in the ground,
And the wheat that the soil produces
will be rich and abundant.
On that day your cattle will graze in spacious meadows;
The oxen and the asses that till the ground
will eat silage tossed to them with shovel and pitchfork.

We may have to endure many things – experiences of exaltation as well as times of hardship and loss – but the Holy Spirit of God will always be flowing through us and will bring us to healing and to peace.

Rorate caeli desuper,
et nubes pluant iustum.

Let the dew fall from above, O heavens,
And let the clouds rain down the Just One.