Dec 9 – Memorial for St. Juan Diego, hermit, layman
John (1474-1548) was born an impoverished free man in a strongly class-conscious society. He was a farm worker, a field labourer, and a mat maker. He became a married layman with no children. Even as a pagan, he was a mystical and religious man, and became an adult convert to Christianity at around age 50, taking the name Juan Diego. He was widowed in 1529.
He was a visionary to whom the Virgin Mary appeared at Guadalupe on 9 December 1531, leaving him the image known as Our Lady of Guadalupe. On 20 December 2001, a second miracle attributed to Juan Diego’s intervention was decreed by the Congregation for the Causes of Saints and was approved by Pope John Paul II. He was canonized on 31 July 2002.
- Patron Saint Index
Isa 55:10-11
Mt 6:7-15
The word of our God remains forever.
I have always loved this passage from Prophet Isaiah, whose name itself means ‘salvation of the Lord’ — a theme that our first reading today points to. In fact, beyond the idea of the Israelites being liberated from exile (which had long been foretold), they were also promised their redemption from sin. God had covenanted this salvation with his people, and they had waited for generations for the coming of the Messiah. This was now imminent, to be fulfilled by God himself, coming incarnate as baby Jesus.
The book of Isaiah can be roughly divided into two halves (some scholars will say three) but what’s notable for today’s reflection is where the first reading sits, at chapter 40. It is from this point actually, that the tone changes quite markedly, from one of judgment of Israel to hopeful offerings of the fulfilment in God’s promise of salvation. Chapter 40 opens with God exhorting ‘Console my people, console them’. After many years (chapters) of judgment and exile, his voice calls out to the Israelites, whom he claims to still be ‘his people’, as he refers to himself also as ‘your (their) God’. There is a sense of possessiveness that is tender and intimate at the same time. Despite the years of seeming silence, God had never forgotten his people nor his promise. This sense of hope and salvation offered by a personal and faithful God to the Israelites in exile must have both been comforting, and uplifting. It is not surprising why second Isaiah (chapters 40-55) is often referred to as the Book of Consolation. There is an eager anticipation on the part of the Israelites for imminent deliverance from exile to embark on a ‘new Exodus’ back to Jerusalem.
I was at two wakes and a funeral most recently, and also accompanied my father through five weeks of hospitalisation. Reflecting on the Isaiah text brings home the sobering truth that our time here on earth is temporary. “All flesh is grass.” Our beauty, our empires, our achievements – they are ephemeral. We are like grass and wildflowers — we bloom for only a while and then wither away (Isa 40:6-7). Our achievements, our identities, our very bodies — they are all fleeting in nature. They fade with time, and no matter how illustrious a life one leads, we will each be history one day, and even those who love us the most will forget us too, with time.
Death is ultimately the great leveller and will come for all, albeit in different ways. Yet, the reading also offers a clear message of hope for us as Christians, because ‘the word of our God will stand forever’. The ‘word’ is God’s promise, his creative and saving purpose. It is reliable, eternal, and trustworthy. Death does not have the last word because we have a God who is mighty enough to overcome even death, and who is powerful enough to overcome this leveller and tender enough to comfort and assure us of our deliverance from the finality of mortality. Regardless of our personal histories, each of our lives has a value beyond our physical existence – we have always been taught that we each have a soul that lives on beyond bodily decay, and that truth offers so much hope and deep assurance as we are individually woven into God’s eternal love story with us. He is personally invested in our small and seemingly insignificant lives – the one who will go after the one lost sheep who has strayed, just to bring us home. This God who comes with total power, ‘his arm subduing all things’, is the same ‘shepherd feeding his flock, gathering lambs in his arms, holding them against his breast and leading to their rest the mother ewes.’ (Isa 40:11)
I was struck by how hopeful a picture this gave, and how it is a great reminder that who we are or strive to become is, ultimately, not as important as whose we are. When this reality of our identity sinks in, one cannot help but want to follow him even more closely. “Prepare in the wilderness a way for the Lord” (Isa 40:3), Isaiah exhorts. Advent, coinciding also with the end of the calendar year, is a great time to declutter our hearts of any inner debris — resentments, lies, sinful habits that have become part of us, and to ‘make a straight highway for our God across the desert, so we can draw nearer to him.
Christmas is indeed the season inviting us to join the Lord in heralding the good news of his salvation. When we have carried the infant king and made room for him in our heart of hearts, we will be emboldened to ‘shout without fear, (to) say to the towns of Judah (and the world), ‘Here is your God.’ The one who came to rule the earth is also the same who seeks you out to bring you home.
The call is to continue to be a people of active hope as we draw closer to the end of this Jubilee Year. May we prepare our hearts well to meet God in this season, and to reflect him to all we meet. That shall surely be the best of gifts to one another for Christmas.
(Today’s OXYGEN by Corinne Cheok)
Prayer: Dear Lord, we ask for the grace to keep our focus on you during this season of Advent; help us prepare our hearts for your coming and bear witness to your presence among us.
Thanksgiving: Thank you, dear Lord, for never abandoning us, for always breaking into our weariness and sorrow, for tirelessly seeking us out when we are lost to bring us home.
OXYGEN 
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