It may be the question of our time: Now what?
Not long ago, a college student came to me, looking for a bit of advice. She was academically successful, popular, and quickly approaching graduation. Her internship was leading her directly into the field she had planned to work in for the rest of her life.
Just one problem: she hated it. Hated with a capital H.
“Now what do I do?” she asked, wiping away tears.
At some point, we have all been there. Standing on the precipice of change and not knowing whether we are courageous enough to take the next step. What if I fail? What if this is the wrong direction? Where do I turn if this doesn’t work out?
The same question is being asked of John the Baptist by the crowds after he came from the desert crying out: Prepare the way … make ready your hearts for God (the focus of last week’s Gospel). They are asking the question: how? You’ve “baptized” us in the waters of repentance; we’ve asked for the mercy from the Father … so now what?
John’s response is so powerful and beautiful, and yet so easy to miss if we hear it at surface level and absorb it in a shallow way. I dare say, it is the way forward in every situation where fear wants to keep us locked within the safety of our own cocoon-like world.
When the crowd asks: what should we do now that we’ve repented and asked for mercy, John tells them the next best step: Give yourself away.
It’s so easy these days to be so self-consumed and protective of our own little worlds; in some ways, it’s understandable. But the revolution that Jesus Christ came to start – a revolution of selfless love offered to all – challenges us not to play it safe and stay in the boat, so to speak.
John, the forerunner of the revolution, reminds the crowd: Share a cloak when you have two. Give away some of your food. In other words, see the people who need to be seen and loved. Offer some of your time, your talent, your treasure. Live to give. For when you do, you take a step out of the boat and beyond your own protected world.
Giving yourself away is the next best step.
Please don’t mishear that call. It is not one asking you to become a doormat, it’s not Christ’s command to let people use and abuse you for their own self-centered needs. That’s not the love God asks of us. Yet, when we freely give of ourselves to others in prayerful and genuine ways, the repentance and mercy we’ve asked for from the Lord is then offered and shared with those who need it most.
Like tax collectors and soldiers.
Remember, these two classes of persons were Galilee’s most-hated at the time of Jesus’ ministry. The moneychangers were vilified for a variety of reasons: they both worked for the oppressive-government and they frequently extorted money from their fellow Jews in order to make a living. The soldiers, meanwhile, were Gentiles who often forced their Jewish underlings to carry their packs and walk the extra mile. Many of them treated Jews as slaves; saw them as non-persons.
And yet – even they, the least-deserving in the eyes of others, came seeking repentance and mercy. Even they wanted to see the Messiah.
And Jesus, through the voice of John, said: Come to me.
This, too, is revolutionary – another step in giving oneself away. John didn’t tell the collectors to stop taxing nor did he tell the military to stop patrolling. He simply reminded them of the duty and responsibility of their call: to respect others; to live with integrity; to give of themselves in selfless ways, too.
God’s mercy doesn’t exclude anyone, but everyone is challenged to accept and be transformed by the mercy being offered.
This should give us pause, especially during this Advent season. Who are the tax collectors and soldiers in our lives right now? Who is the one we believe doesn’t deserve our forgiveness or God’s mercy? Might our ex-spouse or former friend fit that category? Could it be the political candidate and party we can’t stomach? Who do we believe doesn’t deserve to be converted and changed by the love of God?
It’s a tough question to wrestle with, but it is equally humbling for this very reason: for someone else, we have been a tax collector and a soldier. There have been, are, or one day will be persons who believe us to be in the grouping of those who don’t deserve mercy and forgiveness.
We are, in the end, all members of the searching crowd – tax agents and soldiers, each of us.
And that thought should lead to this final act of knowing how Christ – through the Baptizer – is calling us to live our lives: live completely in the will of God. Be absorbed and transformed by it. Let His Will be ours, in all things.
When John tells the crowd (and us): “The One coming will baptize you with the Spirit and fire,” it is clear that we are expected to be transformed radically by the Merciful Love that is poured forth from the Cross. What Christ did on Calvary must continue to steer our lives, informing every prayer, decision, and act we make. It should make us both transformed soldiers and tax collectors who are willing to walk with others whom the world rejects and fails to extend the gift of love.
God’s Spirit and the fire of repentance should burn so powerfully that Christ is revealed in our very lives. That’s the joy – the Good News -- of this Third Week of Advent. That’s the dawn breaking through the darkness …
Like the college student who approached me with the “now what” question of her heart – the deepest longing of her spirit – we all live in that space of challenging discernment. But we need not stay permanently mired in sin and chained to fear.
Rather, here’s the roadmap: accept the mercy from Christ. Give yourself away. Offer the grace of mercy to others. Be absorbed into the will of God, and let that will keep you always humble and Christ-like in your love.
Then, simply take the next best step forward. He won’t lead you astray when you follow this path. It is, after all, the way of the Cross leading to Resurrection – it is the way to living joy.