Picture this: A vast sea parts before your eyes, walls of water suspended in mid-air, a path of dry land stretching toward freedom. Now imagine experiencing this scene not through computer-generated effects, but through the pure artistry of human creativity. That’s what I encountered when I finally watched Cecil B. DeMille’s classic “The Ten Commandments” a few years ago. I have a confession: Despite being a priest, I had never seen this 1956 masterpiece until a dear friend literally placed the DVD in my hands with loving instructions to block out four hours and immerse myself in the experience.  It’s not like I had been “anti-10 Commandments” (there’s a sentence I never imagined saying) It wasn’t like I was ever against watching the film.

Thanks so much for stopping by to read this homily for the SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT- December 8, 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 – 

QUICK COMMERCIAL – we are currently conducting out Annual Christmas Appeal where we hope to raise $35,000.  As of 12/7 we just crossed the $10,000 mark.  I’d appreciate you visitng our website and considering offering a gift here

The film was revelatory – not just for its groundbreaking cinematography or Charlton Heston’s commanding presence as Moses, but because it highlighted something profound about how we engage with sacred stories. Which was one reason I had never seen it even though I had numerous opportunities over the years. Especially since it airs on Holy Saturday every year, and I have friends who’ve made its viewing a cherished tradition, much like families who gather annually for “It’s a Wonderful Life” at Christmas. During the pandemic, they even organized virtual watch parties to maintain this ritual.

But here’s where things get interesting – and perhaps a bit uncomfortable. While these friends find beauty and meaning in the Exodus story, for many of them, it remains just that – a story. A powerful, inspiring narrative, yes, but one they’re not quite sure they believe actually happened. And therein lies a tension that speaks directly to our journey this Second Sunday of Advent.

When we hear the prophet Baruch’s voice echo across the centuries in our first reading, we’re encountering more than ancient literature. Baruch is often overlooked as he was a faithful scribe to the Major prophet Jeremiah, whom we hear from far more often, including last Sunday when we began this sacred season of Advent.  But Baruch is a prophet in his own right, and he speaks to a people in exile, a community that had witnessed God’s mighty deeds but had somehow lost their way. They were God’s chosen people – the very ones whose ancestors had walked through that parted sea, who had seen water flow from rock, who had received the law amid thunder and lightning on Mount Sinai. Yet here they were, their city destroyed, their temple in ruins, their future uncertain.

Why? Because somewhere along the way, they had started treating their sacred history as just stories. They had grown lukewarm in their fidelity, forgotten their true identity, and begun to mirror the cultures around them rather than reflecting the glory of their covenant with God. Does this sound familiar? In our own time, how often do we reduce our faith to comfortable traditions rather than living encounters with the Divine?

But Baruch’s message blazes with hope: “Take off your robe of mourning and misery; put on the splendor of glory from God forever.” This isn’t just poetic language – it’s a divine invitation to reclaim our identity as God’s beloved people. The God who moved mountains and parted seas is still at work, still faithful, still leading His people home.

This brings us to today’s Gospel, where Luke meticulously sets the stage with historical precision. “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius Caesar…” This isn’t the “once upon a time” of fairy tales. Luke anchors these events firmly in history, preventing them from being mythologized into mere cosmic drama. Into this concrete historical moment steps John the Baptist, whose voice thunders across the Judean wilderness: “Prepare the way of the Lord!”

Think about that command. John isn’t suggesting we prepare for a story, or a tradition, or even just a celebration. He’s calling us to prepare for an encounter with the living God. Every valley shall be filled, every mountain and hill made low. These aren’t just poetic metaphors. The valleys of our despair, our doubts, our spiritual emptiness – God promises to fill them. The mountains of our pride, our self-sufficiency, our resistance to grace – these must be brought low.

And here’s where St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians becomes our lifeline: “I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work in you will bring it to completion.” This is crucial: Our Advent preparation isn’t just about our own efforts. God is already at work within us, continuing the good work He began. Our task is to cooperate with that divine initiative, to allow His grace to transform us from the inside out.

This Advent, we’re being called to move beyond treating our faith as a collection of beautiful stories or comfortable traditions. The God who parted the Red Sea isn’t a character in an ancient epic – He’s the living God who continues to work wonders in our midst. The voice crying out in the wilderness isn’t a distant echo – it’s a present call to conversion and transformation.

So let me ask you: What are the seas that need parting in your life? What are the mountains that need lowering? What are the valleys that cry out to be filled? The same God who delivered Israel, who spoke through Baruch, who sent John the Baptist – this God is reaching out to you today, not through special effects or cinematic drama, but through the real, transformative power of His grace.

As we journey through this Second Sunday of Advent, let’s remember that we’re not just preparing to celebrate a past event or maintain a cherished tradition. We’re preparing for an encounter with the living God who still parts seas, still levels mountains, still fills valleys, and still transforms lives. Because this isn’t just their story, and it’s not just a story – it’s our story, it’s our reality, and it’s unfolding right here, right now, in our very midst.

QUICK REMINDER – we are currently conducting out Annual Christmas Appeal where we hope to raise $35,000.  As of 12/7 we just crossed the $10,000 mark.  I’d appreciate you visitng our website and considering offering a gift here