Isaiah 2: 1-5; Romans 13: 11-14; Matthew 24: 37-44
Isaiah’s prophecy today opens with a magnificent vision: “In days to come, the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest of the mountains…
all nations shall stream to it.” Isaiah sees a world longing for God’s presence, yearning for peace, laying down instruments of violence and taking up instruments of righteousness. But this promise is not automatic. It requires preparation. Isaiah adds, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.” This call implies that the people were not yet walking in that light. Their hearts, darkened by sin and idolatry, could not fully recognize the beauty of God’s promise. Advent, then, becomes a return—a decision to walk toward God, to ascend the Lord’s mountain by living lives of justice, purity, and peace.The Scriptures repeatedly show that holiness cannot dwell in a heart that clings to sin. In Exodus 19, before God descended upon Mount Sinai, Moses told the people, “Sanctify yourselves,” and they washed their garments and purified their lives. When Isaiah himself encountered the presence of God in the temple in Isaiah 6, he cried, “Woe is me! I am a man of unclean lips!” Only after the seraph touched his lips with burning coal—symbolizing purification—could Isaiah stand in God’s presence and receive his prophetic mission. Holiness is not something merely received; it is something prepared for through repentance, desire, and humility. As the ancient Jewish sages taught, “The Holy One dwells only with the pure of heart,” a reminder that God’s presence is perceptible only to those whose inner life has been cleansed of malice, deceit, and arrogance.
Saint Paul echoes this same urgency in today’s reading from Romans: “You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep.” Advent is not a passive season; it is a spiritual alarm clock. Paul urges believers to “lay aside the works of darkness” and “put on the armor of light.” Like soldiers who must be awake and armed before dawn, Christians must be spiritually awake, morally awake, and emotionally awake to the coming of Christ. Paul’s call reminds us of the story of Saint Francis of Assisi. Even before his conversion was complete, he began preparing his soul for holiness by giving away his possessions, seeking solitude in prayer, and caring for lepers. His heart was being purified long before he fully recognized Christ’s call. And when the moment of grace finally came—as he embraced the leper and felt his heart changed—he recognized Christ precisely because he had already begun walking in the light.
In the Gospel Jesus gives us a sober warning by recalling the days of Noah. People were so consumed with worldly concerns—eating, drinking, marrying, working—that they failed to recognize the signs of God’s presence. They were not doing evil necessarily, but they were spiritually asleep. Their preoccupation with daily life had dulled their ability to perceive the divine. Jesus says His coming will be like that—sudden, unexpected—and only those prepared, only those awake, will see Him. The unprepared will miss the moment. This pattern repeats throughout Scripture. When Jesus was born, the shepherds recognized Him, the Magi recognized Him, Simeon and Anna recognized Him—but Herod did not, the innkeepers did not, and many in Jerusalem were oblivious. Why? Because holiness recognizes holiness. The pure in heart, Jesus says, “shall see God.” Those whose hearts were open, humble, and prepared sensed God’s presence even in a fragile child. Those filled with fear, pride, and worldly distractions could not.
This spiritual blindness is illustrated in the story of King Saul. When David stood before him—a young shepherd filled with God’s Spirit—Saul could not see the Lord’s anointing in him. His jealousy and insecurity darkened his heart. He saw only a threat. But Jonathan, whose heart was pure and loyal, recognized David immediately as chosen by God. In the same way, during Jesus’ ministry, many ordinary people—tax collectors, sinners, the blind, the poor—recognized His holiness. Meanwhile, many of the religious leaders, who were outwardly pious but inwardly corrupt, could not see Him for who He was. Holiness recognizes holiness; sin blinds the eyes of the soul.
This truth is echoed across the wisdom traditions of the world. The Buddhist sage Thich Nhat Hanh taught, “Peace is present in every step, but only the mindful can see it.” The Hindu Upanishads say that the Divine Self is visible only to “the pure in understanding.” The Qur’an teaches, “God guides only the pure-hearted.” These teachings echo the Beatitude: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” Advent therefore calls us to inner purification so that we may recognize the divine presence, not only in the coming Christmas celebration, but in the daily moments where God visits us—in people, in creation, in opportunities for compassion.
In history, we see similar lessons. When Mahatma Gandhi visited the villages of India, many simple, poor people recognized something extraordinary in him, while the politically powerful did not. Why? Because purity of heart reveals truth more easily than a mind clouded by pride. Likewise, Saint Teresa of Calcutta often said that only those who purify their hearts through prayer can recognize Jesus in the poor. Many walked past the dying on the streets of Calcutta without seeing anything sacred, but she saw Christ in every suffering person because her heart had been formed by holiness. Advent invites us into that same vision: to see God where others see nothing special, to perceive grace where others perceive inconvenience, to recognize Christ where others recognize only humanity.
In the Gospel, Jesus tells us to “stay awake.” Staying awake means living with moral clarity, spiritual alertness, and readiness for God’s call. A story from the Desert Fathers illustrates this. Abba Joseph once told a young monk, “If you will, you can become all flame.” The monk wondered how such transformation was possible, and the elder pointed to the daily disciplines of prayer, repentance, silence, fasting, and charity. These were the practices that kept the soul awake and prepared for God. Advent invites us to these same disciplines—not as burdens, but as pathways to clarity and joy.
Preparation also means letting go of behaviors that pollute the soul. Paul lists the “works of darkness”—rivalry, jealousy, debauchery, drunkenness, immorality. But beyond these obvious sins, there are the quieter sins that erode holiness: resentment, gossip, bitterness, indifference, harshness, greed, and cruelty. A heart full of such darkness cannot perceive God’s presence. Consider the story of Saint Maria Goretti’s mother, Assunta. After her daughter’s murder, she refused to harbor hatred against Alessandro, the young man who killed her child. Her forgiveness purified her heart to the extent that, years later, when Alessandro repented and visited her, she welcomed him as a son. Her holiness allowed her to recognize the presence of God even in a repentant criminal. Without that purity, she might have missed this moment of grace.
Advent purification is not merely about private holiness but also about our relationships with the world, with one another, and with creation itself. Isaiah’s vision includes nations beating swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks—transforming instruments of harm into instruments of life. This transformation applies to our personal lives as well. Advent is the season to turn harsh words into words of encouragement, grudges into forgiveness, impatience into gentleness, selfishness into generosity, pollution into care for creation. To be holy is to reflect God’s goodness not only in prayer but in every relationship.
There is a story of an 18th-century Japanese Christian community in Nagasaki. Forbidden to practice their faith publicly, they spent generations maintaining purity of heart through small, hidden acts of faith: lighting candles in cellars, whispering prayers over cooking fires, teaching children hymns disguised as folk songs. Because of their disciplined preparation, when Christian missionaries finally returned centuries later, these hidden Christians recognized them instantly—not by appearance but by spirit. Centuries of spiritual wakefulness preserved their ability to recognize God’s presence in unexpected circumstances. Advent invites us to that same hidden preparation—small, faithful acts that keep our hearts attuned to Christ.
Jesus warns us that His coming will be like a thief in the night—not because He comes to steal, but because He comes at an hour we do not expect. A householder who knows the time of a thief prepares in advance, stays awake, and keeps the house secure. Similarly, a Christian who knows the Lord is near lives each day with honesty, humility, prayerfulness, and love. Waiting is not passive; it is active trust in God. In Jewish tradition, this waiting is called hachaká—not merely waiting, but waiting with desire, readiness, and longing. Advent embodies this holy longing.
Practical preparation for Advent involves the cultivation of virtues. The first is repentance, a sincere turning from attitudes that disfigure the soul. A simple man in a small Italian village once spent every Advent cleaning the local church—polishing wood, dusting candles, arranging flowers—saying, “I clean the church so God can clean my heart.” His life teaches that external acts of preparation reflect internal longing. We too must make space for Christ by clearing away the clutter of sin.
The second virtue is kindness, especially toward those who test us. Kindness purifies the heart like water cleanses stone. In the life of Saint Philip Neri, kindness was the instrument that transformed hardened hearts. He once welcomed a rude visitor with such warmth that the man broke down in tears and confessed he had not been treated kindly in years. Advent calls us to such kindness, for it softens our own hearts as much as it softens others’.
The third virtue is care for creation. The world itself is God’s gift, and being good to nature is part of preparing for Christ. Saint Kuriakose Chavara taught that “a person who destroys the beauty of creation cannot see the beauty of God.” Advent invites us to reverse harm—plant trees, save water, reduce waste, and treat creation with reverence.
The fourth virtue is charity, the love that goes beyond comfort. During the Irish Famine, a poor widow named Brigid shared her last loaf of bread with a stranger who knocked on her door. That stranger, history records, was a missionary who later told the Church that the widow’s act of charity was the most Christ-like thing he witnessed. Her holiness allowed her to recognize Christ in disguise. When we practice charity, we train our hearts to recognize God in the needy.
The fifth virtue is prayerful vigilance. Prayer keeps the soul awake. Even a few minutes of silent prayer each day opens the heart to God. Saint Charles de Foucauld spent years in desert silence, and he wrote that every quiet moment was like “a knock at the door of the heart from Christ.” Advent teaches us to listen for that knock.
In our daily life situations, this means being patient in traffic instead of angry, being gentle when provoked, resisting the temptation to spread rumors, choosing honesty in small matters, apologizing quickly when wrong, listening deeply to loved ones, visiting the sick and elderly, and forgiving those who have hurt us. These ordinary acts are extraordinary paths to holiness. They prepare our hearts for Christ just as surely as John the Baptist prepared the people for Jesus through repentance and humility.
Finally, Advent is a reminder that Christ comes to us not only at Christmas and not only at the end of time, but every day—in every person, every opportunity for love, every moment of grace. To recognize Him, we must live in the light. As Isaiah urges, “Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.” As Paul insists, “Put on the Lord Jesus Christ.” As Jesus commands, “Stay awake.”
Let us therefore enter this Advent season with awakened hearts, purified intentions, and renewed commitment to holiness. Let us renounce evil and embrace goodness. Let us be good to people, be good to creation, and be good to nature. Let us prepare our hearts so that when Christ comes—today, tomorrow, and at the end of time—we may recognize Him, welcome Him, and walk with Him in joy.
Satish