In today’s Gospel, we hear John the Baptist saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” The Baptist’s voice cries out in the desert, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.” John’s mission was to prepare the hearts of the Jews during his time to welcome the Messiah, our Lord Jesus Christ. The Baptist calls for a change of heart and conduct, a turning of one’s life from rebellion to obedience towards God. The clothing of John recalls the austere dress of the prophet Elijah (2 Kgs 1:8). The expectation of the return of Elijah from heaven to prepare Israel for the final manifestation of God’s kingdom was widespread, and according to Matthew this expectation was fulfilled in the Baptist’s ministry.

In this season of Advent we are preparing for the coming of the Lord Jesus. We are to celebrate Christmas, his first coming, and we are awaiting for his second coming as Judge of the living and the dead as what we profess in our Creed. We need to listen to John’s call to repent. As we change our hearts toward loving and serving the Lord, we are encouraged to be sincere in being sorry for our sins, go to the Sacrament of Confession with a contrite heart and change our sinful ways following the Lord’s commandments to love Him above all things and to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. We are also responsible to make our hearts pure so that we may see God in all His glory.

May John the Baptist intercede for us as we come closer to the love of our Lord Jesus Christ.

~ Fra. Ronel

WHAT I LEARNED IN THE DESERT

I find myself imagining walking through the desert of Judea, dust and dry grass crunching beneath my feet. I see a figure standing tall, rough and unpolished, yet his presence commands attention. It’s John the Baptist, and his voice cuts through the stillness like fire. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near!” he calls, and somehow I feel those words landing directly in my chest. I look around, there are others too, some worn down, some hungry for hope, others simply curious—and I realize that this isn’t just about them. It’s about me too. I notice the clutter I’ve been quietly carrying: all the distractions, fears, my selfish desires, the things that I’ve pushed aside thinking they’re not that important. For the first time in a while, I wonder if I’ve really made space for God in my life, or if I’ve been too wrapped up in my own noise to notice Him calling.

As the crowd grows, John doesn’t hold back. He points to the Pharisees and Sadducees, calling them a “brood of vipers,” and the crowd falls into a heavy silence. His words hurt, not because they’re for someone else, but because I can see a little bit of myself in them. I recognize the moments in my own life when I’ve gone through the motions—presenting what looks like faith on the outside while my heart remains unchanged. John talks about bearing fruit worthy of repentance, and suddenly the question feels personal. Am I showing love when it’s easier to complain? Am I
patient when I want instant results? Am I living in a way that reflects the faith I claim to have or am I hiding behind routine and surface-level appearances? His challenge unsettles me not because it shames me, but because it reveals how much deeper my faith could go if I stopped pretending and started allowing real change.

Then John the Baptist steps aside and speaks of someone greater, someone mightier than he is, who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire. And that word, “fire,” burns in me, both frightening and hopeful. It shifts everything, because I realize this isn’t ultimately about my own strength or effort—it’s about letting God do the work only He can do. I imagine that fire reaching into the corners of my heart, not to destroy me, but to refine me, to burn away what keeps me stuck and breathe life into what’s meant to grow. As I eventually turn away from the desert and walk back toward the ordinary rhythm of my days, I can feel that something inside me has shifted. Repentance no longer feels like a distant religious word—it feels like an invitation, a choice to live honestly, more openly to the love that’s been chasing me all along, and fully awake to what God wants to do in me. It feels like the beginning of bearing fruit that actually matters.

~ Linn

PRAYER TO START THE WEEK

Lord Jesus, help me clean out the things in my heart that keep me away from You. Give me the strength to change in real ways, not just on the outside. Teach me to live a life that points others to
You. Amen.