Home Alone is a perennial Christmas film with, incidentally, a cracking soundtrack by John Williams. If you’ve never seen it, (spoiler alert!) the McAllister family is embarking on a Christmas holiday to France. There are rather a lot of them and somehow, 8-year-old Kevin gets left behind. It takes some time for the family to realise this and when they do, mum makes a frantic dash back home to get him. Meanwhile, Kevin is at home, having a whale of a time and thwarting a couple of would be burglars. Then, when mum gets home, it is quite a heart warming reunion.Today’s gospel is a story slightly similar to Kevin’s story in that a young son, in this case 12 year old Jesus, is inadvertently left behind when His family embark, en masse, on a long journey. Jesus clearly lives in a very devout family which obeyed the law of God, making the annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem for Passover. At this particular time, Jesus at the age of 12 was just about to transition from childhood to adulthood, 13 being the customary age at which Jewish boys became young men. The traveling party on the way home from Jerusalem would have been a large caravan of people, relatives, extended families. The women and children would travel at the front of the caravan with the men and young men bringing up the rear, at the back. We can only speculate that Mary, at the front, was expecting that Jesus, on the cusp of adulthood, was at the back with Joseph and the other men. Equally, Joseph was probably expecting that Jesus, still legally a child, was at the front with Mary and the other children. An understandable assumption by both parents. Until that heart stopping moment of realisation. Where is Jesus? At the back with His dad? No. At the front with His mum? Again, no. I have fortunately never been in a situation like that. My son, James, never went missing when he was a child and so I can barely imagine the panic that must have gone through the minds of Mary and Joseph, and their travelling companions, upon the realisation that Jesus was not with them.I have to confess, each time I have heard this story that I have been somewhat shocked that the caravan would have set off from Jerusalem without first checking that everyone was there. Just as I am shocked that the McAllisters set off for their French Christmas without checking that everyone was present and properly accounted for. But what we need to remember is the kind of world Mary and Joseph lived in at that time. Extended families of kinsfolk and friends would have lived together in an environment of close knit mutual trust and His parents clearly thought that Jesus was there, either at the front or the back of the caravan and safely ensconced with cousins or other family members.So, a very panic stricken Mary and Joseph hurry back to Jerusalem to look for Jesus, this time just the two of them. This in itself would have been a dangerous trip. They did not have the safety of the caravan around them, but they had to go back. They had to find Jesus. And they got back to Jerusalem, possibly expecting to find Jesus waiting for them at the gates of the city, emotional and upset at having been left behind. But He was not there. He was nowhere to be found in the streets of the city or anywhere else Mary and Joseph tried looking. Until, after three days of frantic, fruitless search, in a last desperate thought, they entered the Temple. And there He was. In deep discussion with the Rabbis and scholars. Astounding all who heard Him with His understanding of theology and His questions and answers. It was likely the custom at that time that after the celebration of the Passover, the visiting rabbis and scholars, the theologians of the day—the PhDs of Israel—stayed around the city. This was one of the few times during the year that they had the opportunity to sit down together and discuss matters of theology. And here was this 12 year old boy, not yet a man, engaged in deep conversation with them all.It is at this point that we begin to reach, I think, the very crux of the story. That Jesus was interacting with such knowledge is, in itself, a major part of the story. He has been described in some quarters as being theanthropic. A sort of portmanteau word combining Theos (God) with Anthropos (man) indicating His nature as being divinely human, or is it humanly divine? So one could say that Jesus was engaged in conversations actually about Himself and this is why He was so knowledgeable. I did also come across an article, a couple of years ago now, that speculated that Jesus was in discussion and asking questions of those He had created, as God. The creator in discussion with the created. So if we accept that theory, every time Jesus was in discussion with a person, He was in discussion with someone He Himself had created. That is a rather profound thought, I think. Mind blowing…But, back to the real heart of the story. Mary and Joseph finally finding Jesus in the Temple. Cleary there would have been relief in their hearts that they had at last found Him and He was safe. Mary, however, seems to scold Jesus ‘Son, why have you treated us so? Behold, your father and I have been searching for you in great distress.’ This may very well have been the first time that Mary had had to scold Jesus, but we can only speculate this fact. And now we would perhaps expect Jesus to apologise for giving such worry to His earthly parents, but instead He counters with a question of His own (something He does a lot in the gospels – answers a question with another question) ‘Why were you looking for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?’ Effectively saying ‘Didn’t you understand it, mother, that I wasn’t here trying to be defiant to your authority? I was here because I’m compelled to be in my Father’s house. I’m not talking about Joseph’s house; I’m talking about God’s house. I had to be here because this is where my Heavenly Father wanted me to be’ Woah! I wonder how this made Joseph feel? He would have known that he wasn’t Jesus’ biological father but all the same. The Bible is resoundingly silent on this.Jesus is clearly beginning to make the distinction between balancing love and commitment to His earthly family with His primary obligation to His heavenly Father. His response that the Temple is His Father’s house is intended to remind His parents, and us, the readers of the gospels, that although He is born of a woman He is ultimately of divine origin. And this sets the stage for the miracles and teaching which would occur in the future. About 18 years into the future to be precise. This is something we need also to be mindful of. As Christians, a commitment to Jesus may have serious implications for our relationships with our own families. God’s plan to redeem the world is one that involves us all, and it should come first, even if it raises conflict with our family’s wishes. We still love our families, of course we do, but above all, we love and honour our true heavenly Father, and that can be a tough issue for us to face. One which our Lord Jesus also faced.One small nugget which may sometimes be overlooked is that Mary and Joseph very probably thought they had lost Jesus for good when they realised that He wasn’t with the travelling caravan. They had travelled a day before they realised He was missing. Then they travelled back, probably another day, to Jerusalem. And then they spent three days searching for Him before they found Him. So that’s almost a week before they found Him. But it’s the three days in the city, three days – they thought He was lost and then after three days of search they found Him. When Jesus was crucified, His friends, disciples, His mum, thought He was gone, lost, but on the third day following the crucifixion, He was restored to them. Quite some parallel. And once Mary and Joseph had found Him, we are told that Jesus travels back to Nazareth with His parents and is submissive to them, and He grew in wisdom, and stature and grew in favour with both God and man. Seemingly no more going missing and no more angst for His parents. On this, again, the canonical Bible is silent. And although we hear nothing about the next 18 years of His life,He is clearly continuing that transition towards His divinity ready for His three years of ministry. Luke is the only one of the four writers of the gospels in the canonical Bible to recount this story. And the next time we hear about Jesus in the Bible is His baptism by John the Baptist and that is when the story really gets started.Let us pray.Lord, you chose to shed light on the humble childhood of your Son by the manifestation of his wisdom. May we be filled by the spirit of prudence and be pleasing in your sight by our sincere humility. We ask this in Jesus’ name. Amen
There are so many announcements and proclamations made that sometimes you could be forgiven for being a little underwhelmed by their content. Having a national alert scheme on mobile phones that is used when it’s a bit windy is maybe one example, or yet another announcement from the House of Sussex in Exile that they are both very happy and enjoying life in Lala Land maybe another. We are relentlessly spammed by interesting sounding headlines online which, on being clicked on, tell us something very mundane and open a cesspit of adverts and links that need surgical extraction, whereas items of real news, like the war we have been trying to ignore these past thirty years, are barely alluded to. There is nothing new, just the same old stuff, chewed over in different ways by perversely similar teeth.The lectionary readings today are full of greetings, announcements, introductions and declarations. New things are beginning and they, I hope, bear more need of our attention than what Keir Starmer cannot quite manage to accomplish today. We are offered new ministers when previous ones get found out for the same old stuff, and we seem incapable of escaping the gavage machine of celebrity and failure that we gorge on.But here, New characters are presented. A great drama – the divine-human drama of salvation – is to come to its fullness. The stage is set, and we ourselves are not the audience but co-characters to be caught up in the scope and sweep of the majestic creativity of the Father, Spirit and the crucified Christ. We do not vote for them, but we live with them.There is a quickening within divine providence. A new light is dawning on the landscapes of grace.From one hill-top village to another a young woman moves ‘with great haste’. How beautiful on the mountain are the feet of her who bears Good News!For he himself will be Peace. Shepherds and sheep await angelic visitations. In the East, camels and kings set out on a star-lit trek. The ox and the ass know their manger; they will soon know their master. Two pregnant women meet.Two pregnant women meet. It is a scene that could be seen any day in any Tesco’s supermarket or any school playground. Here is the goodness of the ordinary and the mundane and the marvels of life and life-bearing. Here the hinge of salvation begins to open, the Old and New Testament meet in this mundane setting, the Journey of Abraham and Sarah finally comes to an end, and our begins. Here, today, the world begins again and only these two women notice, as only one woman saw the resurrection.In this ‘mystery’ of our Lady’s visitation of Elizabeth, the ordinary and the extraordinary are caught up in each other. Not just in the transfiguration of the ordinary into the extraordinary. But in the transfiguration of the extraordinary into the ordinary. The divine Word is abbreviated into the wonder of maternity. And Elijah is dancing in the chariot of his mother’s womb. Grace is abounding upon grace, and the angels gaze on in wonder.Here blessings are not just descending from on high, but they are magnified in sharing and they are glorified in praise and thanksgiving ascending. That God can bless us is one thing: that he can empower us to bless one another is the same thing, the same gift. Elizabeth and Mary sing their duet of blessings shared and blessings abounding, calling to each other as only the gatekeepers of eternity may do, knowing that when Nature takes Her course, she will fulfil the word of God, and the salvation we long for will be ours. It’s a hard road they tread, and one full of judgement, but with each other, they may be free for a moment to be in rapture. Two women, dancing on the edge of time.Elizabeth adds her line of prayer to the Ave Maria begun by the angel Gabriel in wonder at ‘the most blessed among all women’. And Mary in her Magnificat sings the praises of her Spirit-conceived Son in his obedient mission from the Father – ‘from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace’.There is nothing outwardly remarkable to be seen by a passer-by or a curious neighbour. In Jerusalem what is to be rendered to Caesar is rendered to Caesar, the builders are laying stone upon stone in the renovated Temple: the priests are daily offering sacrifices at the altar; and Herod’s soldiers are sharpening their swords. The ordinary carries on in the usual routine of daily life.But grace abounds. And the world is changing, in the wombs of the women. Salvation is about to take its first breath.
Today we celebrate Gaudete Sunday, a moment in Advent where the mood shifts, where the purple of penitence softens into rose, and the pink candle flickers with the light of joy.The word Gaudete comes from St. Paul’s words: “Rejoice in the Lord always.” It’s a moment of joy breaking through the sombreness of the season, a reminder that Christ is near and that God’s promise is unfolding right before us. And yet, it might not always feel that way. Joy, after all, can seem elusive, particularly in times of challenge or uncertainty.The other day, I received a text that presented something of a dilemma. I’d been in touch with a customer services helpline to sort out a bill, and after the call, they sent me one of those feedback texts: “Based on your experience today, how much would you score the person who assisted you?” Many of us have been there, haven’t we? The person had been polite and efficient enough, but it all felt very scripted, even a bit frustrating at times. I started wondering how they might feel if they received my feedback of a “just OK” response. And then the thought struck me: What if someone gave me similar feedback on how I’d done in church on Sunday?This small, everyday moment reveals something much bigger. It’s not just about doing a job well or poorly. It’s about the heart behind what we do. Sometimes, we go through the motions in life, whether it’s in work, our roles or relationships. We tick the boxes, but our hearts aren’t fully engaged. The difference between a merely “sufficient” response and one that’s truly heartfelt is connection, and authenticity.Warmth and genuine care shine through. In the way people engage with us, we feel seen, valued, and appreciated. It’s not about doing the bare minimum; it’s about doing something with love and attention.In today’s Gospel, John the Baptist invites the people to a kind of engagement that goes beyond the surface. The crowds, sensing something important, come to him asking, “What then shall we do?” And John’s response isn’t abstract; it’s deeply practical. He tells them to share what they have, to act with justice, to avoid exploiting others. He calls them to a heartfelt way of living, where their inner transformation shapes their outward actions. It’s not enough to simply go through the motions. John’s message is clear: real repentance touches the heart and flows into how we treat one another.This kind of transformation is what Advent is all about. It’s not just about waiting; it’s about preparing, really preparing our hearts. Ancient Advent traditions, such as the O Antiphons, sung in the final days before Christmas, echo this call to preparation. These prayers, rich with titles for Christ like Wisdom, Emmanuel, and Key of David, give voice to the deep longings of God’s people. Each antiphon invites Christ to come into our lives, unlocking doors of justice and peace, bringing light to darkness, and drawing us into the fullness of His love.John’s call to repentance is not a harsh reprimand but a hopeful invitation. He’s not saying, “You’re not good enough.” He’s saying, “There’s more for you, a deeper joy, a fuller life, a truer way of being.” This is the joy of Gaudete Sunday. It’s the joy of knowing that Christ is coming and, with Him, the possibility of a new kind of life.For the early Christian communities, particularly those hearing Luke’s Gospel, this message would have resonated powerfully. They lived in anticipation, under the weight of persecution and hardship, yet clung to the promise that Christ’s return was near. The joy they felt wasn’t tied to the ease of their circumstances; it came from a deep sense that God’s Kingdom was breaking into the world, even in the midst of their struggles. They understood what John meant: joy isn’t something we wait passively for. It’s something we participate in, something we prepare for by opening our hearts and living with justice, kindness, and integrity.When the people came to John and asked, “What then shall we do?” they weren’t just looking for tasks to complete. They were searching for a way to prepare their hearts. And John gave them answers rooted in daily life. “Share with those who have none,” he said. “Don’t take advantage of others. Be content with what you have.” These are simple instructions, but they are profound. They remind us that our faith is not just about lofty ideals or abstract principles; it’s about how we live every day. The poetic cries of the O Antiphons, “O Wisdom,” “O Root of Jesse,” “O Emmanuel,” are active calls for God’s saving presence to break into our world. They remind us that joy isn’t abstract; it’s rooted in the nearness of Christ and the transformation He brings.For us, too, the call is the same. Advent isn’t just a time to prepare for the secular festivities of Christmas; it’s a time to prepare for Christ. And that preparation isn’t just about what we do externally, but about how we open our hearts to God’s presence. Like the difference between a perfunctory act of customer service and one filled with genuine care, our spiritual lives, too, can be transformed when we engage fully, when we live with an openness to God’s grace.Joy comes when we are united with God, when we live in harmony with His will. In our modern world, where so much of life can feel rushed and surface-level, John’s message speaks to us still. It invites us to slow down, to reflect, to ask ourselves, “What then shall we do?” And the answer, as it was for those who heard John’s voice in the wilderness, is found in the way we live: by caring for others, by acting justly, by opening our hearts to God’s transformative presence.Gaudete PrayerLord Jesus, source of our joy,draw near to our hearts this Advent.Turn our repentance into renewal,our waiting into wonder, and our lives into a reflection of Your love. Amen.
There is a time and a season to go back home – to return to some kind of beginning, whether this is to rediscover the reason we set out in the first place, or to scour the memory of the place we left from our minds, or to reevaluate where we have ended up. We do it all the time in our faith, we return to the source, and ask ‘how, now, are we doing?’ We don’t go back to find the past, because it is gone and we have, we would hope and expect, moved on as well and if we returned to find everything the same, we may well question those who maintained it thus. We move on, we grow and develop, thanks be to God. But now we find ourselves putting up trees, opening boxes of baubles and getting excited about a plastic baby and moving the statues of the wise men a little closer each week. It is, frankly, a little odd, and there is an unchanging familiarity about it which is both hypnotic and concerning at the same time. We don’t have to do any of it, but we do, and we enjoy it because it’s a little like going home to the place where our faith was born and finding that we have a home there as well. Advent is, among other things, about returning. In our first reading we witnessed the return of exiles to Jerusalem, to God’s city. From east and west, at God’s command, they return, carried back like royalty. God has removed every obstacle to their return, as though he had flattened mountains and hills and filled in the valleys, so Israel can return in safety, saved by the Lord. The endless wanderings of Israel this time bring them back to the place they loved, the place where God is with them.But more important is the fact that the people are accompanied by God in their return. He is present with them, escorting them, just as they had been escorted away into exile by their enemies. So when they return home, the Lord’s special presence among his people is also returning home. This is as much about the return of God as it is about the return of Israel, although like most apocryphal literature, there is a shady historical background to Baruch, but we will overlook it, because it’s Christmas, and we do not want to spoil it.In today’s Gospel, we see how these prophecies are more deeply fulfilled in the New Covenant. John the Baptist is that voice foretold by the prophets which calls for a straight road to be prepared for God, with valleys filled in and hills laid low. That return takes place definitively in Jesus, when he comes amongst us, and the salvation of God is made plain for all. He is God returning to be present in the most special way of all among his people, when God becomes human. And all this is done so that we too can return to him and be part of the city of God, the restless wanderings are about to end, and things will be ok again. It’s neat, and untrue, but we cannot possibly dwell on bad things when all our minds are focussed on a baby, can we.Scripture teaches us how we human beings turned away from God in our first ancestors, at the very beginning of human history. Now, as soon as we come into existence, each one of us, we share in that turning away from God. This is the mystery of original sin. But in baptism that sin is taken away: we are turned back to God by grace, and our return to him is underway, the arc of our salvation is about to find its home in the womb of the Virgin and the plan so long ago formed is to be made manifest. He is coming, he is coming back to us again.We read also in the prophets how the Lord declares, ‘Return to me, and I will return to you.’ But we can only return to God because he first returns in his grace to us. But when God returns to us, he enables us to return to him. This is as much about our returning to God as God’s returning to us.This good work has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Our returning to God has a beginning, a middle and an end. It is begun by the grace of God and becomes a stable reality in us through baptism. It is completed at Christ’s Second Coming when we are raised from the dead in glory. But in the meantime, that return is an ongoing journey of faith.Of course this is part of our Christian faith all year around. Perhaps in Lent we concentrate a great deal on our returning to God, on manifesting our repentance in prayer, fasting, almsgiving and other forms of penance. Perhaps in Advent we can turn our thoughts first to God’s return to us, that he has returned to us in Christ, that he has begun our return within us, and that we wait for the return of Christ at the end of time and in the celebration of Christmas. Last week we saw how our bodies have learned to stand erect, and to hold our heads high, and this week we see the immensity of the journey we must undertake to realise that redemption. But today, just for a little while, there is a return home, and the familiar things of Christmas. We don’t live there, but we can drop in to remind ourselves of where we are going and then get on with the journey, following quite quickly through Egypt into uncertainty and hope.
