Reflection for November 30, 2025

First Sunday of Advent (A)

​Isaiah 2:1-5 | Psalm 122: 1-2, 3-4, 4-5, 6-7, 8-9 | Romans 13:11-14 | Matthew 24:37-44

​This Sunday isn’t just the start of Advent—it also kicks off the new liturgical year. As we begin this season of waiting and hoping, we’re invited to reflect on three beautiful themes: making peace in our hearts, in our homes, and in our communities; learning to lead ourselves by managing our own desires and emotions; and staying awake and ready for the coming of Christ.

One Sunday morning, Fr. Regis kicked off his homily with a question: “Raise your hand if you’ve already forgiven your enemies.” About half the church raised their hands—mostly the holy ones, or at least those sitting near the front. Father grins, and says, “You know, many of us think God is the only one who forgives. But actually, you and I have that power too. So, let me ask again—who here has forgiven the people who hurt you?” This time, almost everyone raised their hands… Except for one sweet-looking elderly lady in the back—Mrs. Ramirez. “Mrs. Ramirez,” the priest asked, “are you not willing to forgive your enemies?” She smiled like an angel and said, “I don’t have any.” The priest’s jaw dropped a little. “That is very rare. Ma’am, may I ask… how old are you?” “Ninety-five,” she replied proudly. The priest was amazed. “Ninety-five and no enemies? That’s incredible. Would you mind coming up here and sharing with everyone how a person can live ninety-five years… without making a single enemy?” With her little cane, Mrs. Ramirez slowly walked to the front, turned to the congregation, smiled sweetly, and said: “It’s easy… I outlived those old grumpy witches!”

One of the most powerful and well-loved passages from the Book of Isaiah is found in chapter 2. It paints a majestic picture of God as the ultimate judge, ruling from Mount Zion and guiding all the nations of the world. In this vision, people from every nation come together—not for battle—but for peace. Isaiah imagines a new world, transformed when the Lord comes. A world where God invites us not just to talk about peace, but to live it. He tells us to turn “swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks,” meaning we should transform instruments of conflict into tools that build, heal, and nourish. God’s dream is clear: no more violence, no more war, no more learning how to hurt one another. But this kind of peace starts somewhere. First, it begins by “climbing the Lord’s mountain”—seeking Him, being at peace with Him, and allowing Him to guide our hearts. Then, it flows outward—into our families, our friendships, our workplaces, and our communities. So the real question for us today is: How can we share peace with the people around us? Maybe it’s choosing kindness over sarcasm, listening instead of arguing, forgiving instead of staying angry—making space for harmony in our everyday lives.

A group of clergy went away for a quiet retreat in a cabin—just prayer, nature, and supposedly… holiness. On the first night, after evening prayer and snacks, they decided to get “real” with one another. They agreed to share their biggest temptation. Msgr. Marcos, the most senior, cleared his throat and said, “This is embarrassing… but I struggle with bad pictures. I even bought a copy of FHM Magazine once.” The group nodded sympathetically. Then Fr. Marlowe spoke up, “Mine is worse. I’m hooked on gambling. One Saturday, instead of writing my homily, I sneaked off to Resorts World and played the slot machines.” Gasps. A few nervous laughs. Fr. Ernesto jumped in, looking guilty. “Mine is even worse. Sometimes I can’t resist drinking… and yes—one time, I broke into the sacramental wine.” All eyes slowly turned to Rev. Harvey, who was about six months away from ordination. He sat there silently. Finally, he sighed and said, “Fathers, I hate to admit this… but my temptation is the worst.” They leaned in.
“I just love to gossip. And if you’ll excuse me…” He stood up, pulled out his phone and said—“I have some very important calls to make.”

In his letter to the Romans, Paul reminds us that Christ’s second coming could happen at any moment—and that makes it urgent for us to live with integrity and honor. He knows that none of us are completely free from temptation, but he urges us to cast off the darkness in our lives and “put on the armor of light.” As Christians waiting for the Lord, we shouldn’t waste time chasing after selfish desires—whether that’s overindulging in food or drink, giving in to lust, or living without boundaries. Instead, we’re called to focus on what is good, loving, and life-giving. This Advent, the question is simple: Do you have more of Jesus in your life… and less of yourself? Fr. Romerico and Pastor Joselito were standing by the side of the road, holding up a big, bold sign that read: “The End is Near! Turn Around Now Before It’s Too Late!” Their plan? Warn every passing car. The first driver zoomed by and yelled, “Leave us alone, you Jesus freaks. The two clergy just shrugged. Then, around the next curve, they heard tires screeching… followed by a massive splash. Fr. Romerico looked at Pastor Joselito and said, deadpan, “Maybe next time we just put up a sign that says… ‘Bridge Out.’”

In today’s Gospel, Jesus reminds us that his followers need to be ready and stay alert for his coming—whenever that might happen. He warns us about the danger of being unprepared. Think of those caught off guard by the flood, or the master of the house who slept through the sudden arrival of a thief. Disaster struck them because they weren’t ready. Those who are prepared for Christ’s coming will enter God’s kingdom. Those who aren’t? They risk being left behind, stuck in their own sin and separation from God. Our task, then, is simple but challenging: recognize Christ’s presence in our lives right now, in our homes, our communities, and in the people around us. That’s what it means to be vigilant as a Catholic. So stay awake. Stay aware. Stay ready.

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