Digging for treasure.

"In deep nights I dig for you like treasure. For all I have seen that clutters the surface of my world is poor and paltry substitute for the beauty of you that has not happened yet." Poet Rainer Maria Rilke describes the work of Advent, in which we try to clear our lives of this clutter in anticipation of the Holy One, who has come to meet us.

We will behold our treasure as cleansing fire, heralded by the "voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight'" (Matthew 3:3). We will behold it in the wilderness, where John the Baptist invites us to know God in the untamable space where, deprived of what is familiar, comfortable, and easy, we will know God anew, and the wilderness itself will sing praises: "The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom" (Isaiah 35:1).

And finally, we will behold this indescribable beauty in an infant, Emmanuel, who, in becoming human, makes each of us partners in holiness. Through God incarnate, we are all "God's beloved ... who are called to be saints" (Romans 1:7). God's choice to be one of us makes all of humanity a chosen people. After spending Advent removing the clutter, we will discover on Christmas day that the treasure we have been digging for, the beauty whom we have awaited, was with us all along and calling to us through the life of each person, God's beloved.

Michaela Bruzzese is a freelance writer living in Chile.

DECEMBER 5

God of Fire

Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

Even if we managed to sleep through the first week of Advent, surely John the Baptist will startle us awake on the second. Though Isaiah assures us that the Savior's arrival will bring peace and harmony--"The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox" (Isaiah 11:7)--John promises that such peace will come at a price. He insists that the Messiah's arrival warrants purification, "for the kingdom of heaven has come near" (Matthew 3:2). Taking special notice of religious leaders seeking baptism, John calls them a "brood of vipers," warning them of "the wrath to come" (Matthew 3:7). Their crime, according to John, is arrogance and complacency; they assume that their social privilege and religious pedigree guarantee them salvation. Mocking their presumption, he advises them instead to "bear fruit worthy of repentance" (Matthew 3:8).

We must all bear fruit worthy of repentance for, as John testifies, God's interruption into human history is not without its consequences. As true peace, God's peace is forged with justice. According to the psalmist, the Messiah will "defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the needy, and crush the oppressor" (Psalm 72:4). In assuming human form, God teaches us a new way to be human and to relate to one another: with justice, righteousness, and a special love for the poor and the needy. John reminds us that God does not request that we love justice, God insists upon it. Therefore, we too must take stock of our actions and beliefs, separating the wheat from the chaff and cutting down "every tree ... that does not bear good fruit" (Matthew 3:10). The justice and compassion that serves to nourish the world, like wheat, will be retained, but the chaff of judgment, exclusion, and hatred "he will burn with unquenchable fire" (Matthew 3:12). Newly prepared to meet God-With-Us this season, we can pray with Paul that "the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit" (Romans 15:13).

Michaela Bruzzese is a freelance writer living in Chile.

DECEMBER 12

God of the Wilderness

Isaiah 35:1-10; Psalm 146:5-10; James 5:7-10; Matthew 11:2-11

Many of us have entered this Advent as we have entered others: Unintentionally. Like any other yearly celebration, it risks becoming tame, predictable, or mindless. Today, in this third week of Advent, John and Jesus ask more of us. They ask us to come to the wilderness not to enjoy the scenery or to look at "a reed shaken by the wind" (Matthew 11:7), but to prepare to meet our Creator and Redeemer.

When asked ff he is the Messiah, Jesus allows his actions to speak louder than words; he is indeed the one fulfilling prophecies. To Isaiah's promises that the blind, deaf, and lame will be healed, Jesus adds even more: Not only are those suffering from physical (and therefore religious and social) ailments healed, but "the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them" (Matthew 11:5)! The "ransomed of the Lord" (Isaiah 35:10) are the first to experience the new reign of God: "Everlasting joy shall be upon their heads ... and sorrow and sighing shall flee away" (Isaiah 35:10).

Jesus also emphasizes that John the Baptist, as a true prophet, calls us to the wilderness--literally a wild, untamed place--so that we can meet God on God's terms. Unlike those from the centers of religious and social authority, "who wear soft robes" and "are in royal palaces" (Matthew 11:8), John summons us from the margins. He knows that to truly be prepared for Jesus, we must leave our comfort zones and meet God on God's territory. We must go beyond the easy answers and comfortable religion that neither influences nor interferes with the rest of our lives. It is no coincidence that God chose to be born as an infant for, like new parents, we must be willing to surrender all that is predictable and controllable in our lives to a love we can neither name nor comprehend before experiencing it firsthand. This Messiah is ready to teach us to see again, to rise from the dead, to preach the good news, if only we are willing to come to the wilderness and risk meeting God anew.

Michaela Bruzzese is a freelance writer living in Chile.

DECEMBER 19

God-With-Us

Isaiah 7:10-16; Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-25

On this fourth and final Sunday of waiting, Matthew is the only evangelist to tell Joseph's side of the story of Jesus' birth, emphasizing his role as devout Jew and adoptive father. He portrays Jesus" conception and birth as fulfilling the prophecy that "the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel," which means, "God is with us'" (Matthew 1-23). Clearly, God was already with Joseph, who was attentive both to the well-being of his young fiancee and to God's call. Though Mary's situation was technically grounds for rejection and even stoning, Joseph unquestioningly heeds the angel's words and takes her into his home, adopting Jesus as his own. In doing so, Jesus is adopted into the family of Joseph and therefore the royal Davidic line, as Matthew details in the beginning of his gospel So great is Joseph's faith that he is able to meet God on God's terms: in human form, as a helpless child for whom Joseph himself, with Mary, would be responsible.

Matthew's account highlights that Jesus, like us, is adopted royalty. As Paul reminds us in Romans 8:15, through Christ we are all the adopted sons and daughters of God; we have all received a spirit of adoption, through which we cry, "Abba, Father!" Regardless of the privilege or humility into which we're born, we are all royal sons and daughters of God, descended from greatness and destined for the same.

As we witness the birth of God as a child, born homeless to unimportant people, we are reminded that He kingdom we will inherit is the upside-down kingdom, where serving, not being served, is our birthright. Our inheritance is not gold or silver, but a treasury of holy men and women whose faith was expressed more in action than in words, Joseph's greatness did not consist of his royal ancestry but in his ability to hear add respond to the word of God. Like Joseph, we are called to partner with others, to care for the God who continually asks to be born in our lives and world.

Michaela Bruzzese is a freelance writer living in Chile.

DECEMBER 26

God's Chosen

Isaiah 63:7-9; Psalm 148; Hebrews 2:10-18; Matthew 2:13-23

Matthew's account of the family's flight to Egypt, the only one in the gospels, contains three fulfillments of prophecies and two references to seminal events in the history of the chosen people. As God called the Israelites, God calls Joseph, Mary, and Jesus to safety, but unlike the Israelites, the family is first called to Egypt in order to escape death. Once there, they are called out of Egypt, and as Matthew reminds us, "This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, 'Out of Egypt I have called my son'" (Matthew 2:15).

Matthew's preoccupation with aligning Jesus squarely in the history of the Israelites and their experience with God reflects the tensions present in the Christian community of his times. At first strongly Jewish-Christian, the church was growing rapidly among Gentiles. Thus the question of chosenness arose, and with it all the petty arguments about who's in and who's out, whether those with certain heritage had the advantage. Matthew attempts to balance the discussion by placing Jesus within the Jewish tradition, but also outside it, as Joseph's adopted son.

As usual, what is most important is not ethnicity, religion, language, or any other superficial trait, but our actions in response to God's invitation. It doesn't matter if Mary and Joseph were Jewish, if they were 16 or 61 years old, that they spoke Aramaic or Hebrew, or even that they were a man and a woman. What matters is their response to God's call, their ability to say yes and in so doing help incarnate God to the world. In "becoming human, God made all of humanity God's chosen people. As Paul reminds us, Jesus is the great equalizer and through him we are all God's chosen: "For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. For this reason Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters" (Hebrews 2:11). We are all equally invited to bear God to the world; in the end, by our response, we choose whether or not to be God's chosen.

Michaela Bruzzese is a freelance writer living in Chile.