This past October, as my family and I gathered to mark the tenth anniversary of my Father’s death, I was struck by the unpredictable nature of grief. Those who have experienced loss can relate to the way time seems to warp after such an event, with life split into a ‘before’ and ‘after.’ The passing years can feel both distant and immediate, as if the loss happened only yesterday. Despite the significance of the anniversary in my mind, I was surprised to find that I wasn’t overwhelmed with emotions on October 6th.  Instead, it was a seemingly trivial item –a pair of white socks– that unexpectedly triggered a much stronger emotional response just a few weeks later.

Thanks so much for stopping by to read this homily for the FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT- December 1, 2024.  I appreciate your sharing this on your social media posts and your feedback and comments…  I’m also grateful for all those who’ve asked for the audio version and share them as well at SOUNDCLOUD click HERE or from ITUNES as a podcast HERE.  May the Lord be glorified in your reading and sharing- Father Jim

I was attending an important event at the university, where alumni, students, and university officials had gathered.   Not to get into a fashion debate or discussion about protocols and expectations, but suffice it to say, it’s rare these days for me to see not just students but anyone “dressing up,” meaning suits, dresses – business or formal attire.  So I was pleasantly surprised to see the young women in dresses and young men in suits and ties and joked with a couple of them how they “cleaned up nicely.”

That’s when I noticed this guy, and it was like, “Which of these things doesn’t belong.” The pants were too short, the jacket was too big, and he wore white socks.  I didn’t have my glasses on initially (geez, I’m really sounding old now… anyway) and must admit I was thinking, “oh man, this kid…buddy, this is all wrong – I mean, maybe you didn’t have a suit and had to piece all this together but white socks with black pants and shoes?  Come on, man.” 

But when I put on my glasses and recognized who it was, it hit me: this young man didn’t have a father.  He had never known the guidance of a dad, especially not in moments like this when he would have been taught those little lessons of life — like how to dress for a formal occasion.  At that moment, I remembered my Father, Pa Chern, in his unique, colorful way, teaching my brothers and me about the importance of looking professional.  All of a sudden, I was instantly on an emotional roller coaster I never imagined.  I felt instant remorse for any sense of being judgmental of this poor kid; I laughed thinking about my Father imparting these lessons to the Chern boys (coincidentally, it was moments like these where we also learned a lot of Italian-Sicilian expressions from my Father), I instantly felt the pain of grief which had unexpectedly emerged with this memory.  But even stronger was a sense of joy that was equally unexpected.   Where I was moved in thanksgiving to God for the gift of my Dad.

Joy, in the Christian sense, is not just a fleeting feeling of happiness or pleasure.  It is something deeper and more enduring.  Joy is the awareness of God’s presence — even in our suffering, in our confusion, in our loss.  It is the ability to see God’s action in the world, even when things seem bleak.  It’s why every Catholic Church prominently displays a crucifix.  We are meant to always keep before us the moment where hopes seemed forever lost;  that moment where everything looked dire; the day of seemingly the greatest defeat imaginable we call ‘Good’ (as in ‘Good Friday’) because God was still there.  He had not abandoned His son or His people who had allowed, conspired, and cooperated to make that happen.

It’s this deeper, enduring Joy that we’re invited to embrace as we enter into this New Church Year and begin the liturgical season of Advent.  In our chaotic world in which the secular and religious themes are sometimes mixed together where you have Santa and Rudolph next to a manger scene with the baby Jesus, the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph, it can be hard to recapture the “reason for the season” – even for those of us who should know better… (as I was in near melt-down status fighting with Christmas lights that burnt out on a pre-lit tree just a few days ago – triggering some other Pa Chern memories).

Advent reminds us to look beyond the superficial trappings of the season and recapture what is most essential.  At its heart, Advent is about longing and anticipation – a longing for the One who was, who is, and who is to come: Jesus.   The season calls us to reflect on those three “comings” of Christ – the first coming of Jesus into History at Christmas when He was born in Bethlehem, His final coming at the end of time, and His ongoing coming into our hearts and lives right now.

As we reflect on the Scriptures today, we see how this longing connects us to both our past and our future.  We are torn between the “before” and the “after,” much like the experience of grief, where the present feels shaped by both what has been and what is yet to come.  Our world is broken; we are confronted by the darkness of sin.  But we remain joyful as we renew our hope in the promise that the Lord is coming to make all things new.  The Prophet Jeremiah is the first figure we encounter this Advent season who brings us this very message of hope.  Jeremiah is often referred to as the “weeping prophet” because, for most of the 52 chapters of this Old Testament book, written six centuries before Christ’s birth, he expresses a deep sense of gloom.  Jeremiah explains to his fellow Jews that the disaster they face—being exiled in Babylon—is a direct result of their turning away from God and embracing the worship of false pagan idols.  Amid all the devastation depicted in these 52 chapters, there are three chapters known as the “Book of Comfort,” from which today’s first reading is drawn.

Jeremiah prophesies that God will raise up a ‘righteous branch,’ a new king who will bring justice and peace.  This prophecy is significant in the context of the Advent season as it foretells the coming of Jesus, the Messiah, who fulfills this role of the ‘righteous branch’ by bringing redemption and restoration to the world.

Jeremiah’s prophecy reminds us that even in our darkest moments, God’s presence is always at work, even if it seems small — like a shoot from a tree, something that appears insignificant but will grow and flourish into something beautiful and life-giving.  This is the hope we carry into Advent: that God is still at work, even amid our suffering, and that He is coming to make all things new.

In the Gospel, Jesus speaks of signs in the heavens, turmoil in the world, and hearts weighed down with anxiety.  But He also gives us a message of hope: “When these things begin to happen, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” This is a call to look beyond the immediate struggles and recognize that God is always moving toward us—even when the world seems darkest.

As we begin this Advent season, let us be receptive to those unexpected moments that catch us off guard—like a pair of white socks. These seemingly simple instances can hold profound meaning, reminding us of God’s presence and action in our lives. This presence and action are ultimately connected to the three comings of Christ: His first coming in Bethlehem, His second coming at the end of time, and His ongoing presence in our hearts today.

Advent allows us to embrace all our emotions—our grief, our longing, and our joy. It invites us to live in the hope that God is with us and that He is coming to make all things new.

As we journey through Advent, let us prepare our hearts not only for the celebration of Christ’s birth but also for His ongoing presence in our lives. Perhaps, like me, you will find that God can surprise you with a deeper joy and a renewed sense of hope in the most unexpected places, even in something as simple as white socks.