The Second Sunday of Advent, Year C
December 8, 2024
Malachi 3:1-4, Canticle 16, Philippians 1:3-11, Luke 3:1-6
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“Preparing the Way: The Refining Work of Advent”
The Very Rev. Kathleen Murray, Rector
Historic Beckford Parish, Mt. Jackson & Woodstock
Advent is a season of waiting, but not the kind of waiting we often think about. It’s not
about sitting back, checking our watches, and idly biding time until Christmas. Advent is active.
It’s a season of preparation, a season of holy anticipation. Both Malachi and John the Baptist
give us a sense of urgency. They remind us that something is coming—someone is coming—and
that this arrival will change everything. Advent preparation is about transformation, repentance,
and opening our lives to the work of God.
In Malachi, we hear the prophet describe the coming of a messenger, one who will
prepare the way. This messenger is like a refiner’s fire and a fuller’s soap—images that evoke
cleansing, purifying, and renewal. Malachi’s words are striking and even a little intimidating.
Fire and soap are not gentle tools. They clean, yes, but they also remove impurities. They
transform.
And in the Gospel, John the Baptist takes up this same theme, quoting Isaiah: "Prepare
the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and
hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made
smooth." The message is clear: God is on the move. The world is being upended, transformed,
made ready for the arrival of Jesus. But here’s the thing: we are invited to take part in this
preparation. The work of Advent is ours to do.
The image of a refining fire from Malachi can feel unsettling. Fire is transformative, but
it’s also consuming. What does it mean for God to act as a refiner in our lives? What does it
mean to allow God’s love to cleanse and purify us?
Rachel Held Evans, a writer who deeply understood the tension between grace and
transformation, often spoke about the refining work of God in terms of love. She reminded us
that God’s refining fire isn’t about punishment; it’s about liberation. God’s love burns away the
things that keep us from being fully ourselves, from being fully aligned with God’s vision for us.
That might mean letting go of pride, fear, resentment, or apathy. It might mean releasing the tight
grip we have on our schedules, our status, or our sense of control. The fire of God’s love doesn’t
consume us; it consumes the things that weigh us down, freeing us to live more abundantly.
So, during this Advent season, we might ask ourselves: What in my life needs refining?
What in my heart needs cleansing? These are not easy questions. They require honesty and
courage. But they are essential if we are to prepare the way for Christ.
Luke gives us John the Baptist’s vision of preparation: a highway for God in the
wilderness, where every valley is lifted, every hill made low, every crooked path straightened.
This image is grand, sweeping, and inclusive. It’s not a narrow, exclusive road; it’s a highway, a
way made wide and open for all people. And this, I think, is one of the most challenging aspects
of Advent preparation.
This vision is one we’re exploring in our study of Handel’s Messiah, where scripture
illuminates how God’s promises have unfolded and continue to shape our hope today. As we
engage with these texts, we are reminded that the work of preparing the way is deeply rooted in
the story of God’s people and God’s promises.
This vision reminds us of the expansiveness of God’s love—a love that defies our
boundaries and challenges our assumptions. It shows us a God whose table is big enough for
everyone—a table where no one is excluded, no one is left behind. We are called to make the
way clear for others—removing barriers, lifting up the lowly, and opening pathways for all to
encounter God’s kingdom.
And let’s be honest: this kind of preparation can be uncomfortable. It challenges our
preferences, our assumptions, even our prejudices. It asks us to let go of the idea that we get to
decide who is "in" and who is "out." It calls us to build a road that is wide enough for everyone,
even people who look, think, or act differently than we do.
So, as we reflect on John the Baptist’s call to prepare the way, we might ask ourselves:
Who have I excluded? Whose voices have I ignored? What barriers need to come down in my
life, in my community, so that others can encounter God’s love?
This vision of preparation is not abstract—it is communal and lived. Our local tradition
of Advent and Lent services, sponsored by the Woodstock Ministerial Alliance, is one way we
embody this calling. In those services, we come together as a community of believers to lift one
another up, recognizing that preparation for God’s coming is most powerful when it is shared.
What is the church, really? If we’re truly honest, it’s probably most like a community of
broken people holding one another up. A place where grace abounds, where people are invited to
come as they are, but are also encouraged to grow, to be transformed by God’s love. Advent
preparation happens in this kind of community—in a church where people support one another in
the hard, holy work of repentance, reconciliation, and renewal.
For our congregation, this means looking not just at our individual lives but at our shared
life together. What does it mean for us, as a church, to prepare the way of the Lord? Are there
rough places in our communal life that need to be smoothed out? Are there valleys in our
ministries that need to be filled? Are there barriers—physical, cultural, or spiritual—that need to
come down so that others can experience God’s love? In this season, what might it look like to
invite someone to share in the hope of Advent? Perhaps it’s extending an invitation to worship,
volunteering for outreach, or simply offering a listening ear to someone in need.
Advent is a season of hope, but it’s not a naive, feel-good kind of hope. It’s hope in the
wilderness, hope in the midst of refining fire. The work of Advent—repentance, reconciliation,
preparation—is not easy. It asks much of us. But it is work grounded in the deep, abiding hope
that God is with us and for us.
I believe in a God who meets us where we are and walks with us. Jesus shows up in the
wilderness, in the mess, in the struggle. This is the hope of Advent: that the God who comes to
us in Jesus is not distant or indifferent. God is present. God is with us. And God’s presence
transforms everything.
This hope is not about ignoring the pain or brokenness in our lives or in the world. It’s
about trusting that God is at work, even in the midst of it. It’s about believing that the refining
fire of God’s love will lead not to destruction but to renewal.
So, as we journey through this season of Advent, let’s embrace the call to prepare. Let’s
invite God to refine us, to cleanse and purify our hearts. Let’s commit to building a highway for
God, a road wide enough for everyone. Let’s lean into the hard, holy work of Advent, trusting
that God’s refining fire is at work in us and among us.
And let’s do it together, as a community shaped by grace and grounded in hope. This is
the good news of Advent: that God is coming, that God is with us, and that God’s love is making
all things new.
Amen.