They may well be the loveliest words in Scripture, redolent with care and concern. We hear them in the first Sundays of Advent, many centuries after the Prophet Isaiah received them from the Lord.

Comfort, give comfort to my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her
that her service is at an end,
her guilt is expiated;
indeed, she has received from the hand of the Lord
double for all her sins (40:1-2).

Notice that these words do not come as a promise. They are delivered as a command, something that Isaiah is to do, and, as these words were destined in God’s providence to become God’s word to us, something that we must do as well.

Comfort, give comfort to my people,
says your God.

The Incarnation, calls us to encounter the God, whom we cannot see, in the humans, whom we can.

Today the words “spiritual” and “religious” are often juxtaposed, even pitted against one another. Religion is, of course, a way of being spiritual. An essential way, really, when you consider that the Latin word religio means to bind together or to bind up. If being spiritual were nothing more than a manifestation of our own longings and preferences, it need not be bound up with anything or anyone beyond ourselves. But then it would be nothing more than an expression of self, like hobbies and hairstyles.

When spirituality truly encounters another, it calls us to come out of ourselves toward the other, to make ourselves receptive to the other. The core of the Christian faith, the Incarnation, calls us to encounter the God, whom we cannot see, in the humans, whom we can. That being the case, the role of the parish in the life of a Christian is much more than a dispensing station of sacraments, the local branch of a worldwide corporation.

To be parish is not simply to encounter others who happen to be there at the same time as we are, like the neighbors whom we see in the supermarket or the local library. To be parish is to be a place, to be a people, where God’s command to comfort the other is fulfilled. Parishes are not distribution centers, which we choose on the basis of our preferences in schedules, music and preaching. They are living circles of comfort, communities with faces that hold real meaning for each other.

To be parish is to be a place, to be a people, where God’s command to comfort the other is fulfilled.

Allow me to describe the cares and concerns of those sitting near you. Do not waste time much time in trying to tie a name to each description. What is true for us this Second Sunday of Advent in 2017 is true every Sunday, in every parish around the world. So reflect for a moment, and in no particular order, upon 12 types of people. Call it an Advent 12-step examen in preparation for the 12 Days of Christmas. Consider:

  • Those who are approaching their first Christmas after the death of someone, whom they have dearly loved.
  • Those who come to Christmas to celebrate the Word made flesh, knowing that cancer or some other disease has invaded their own flesh.
  • Those who are, late in life, once again raising children in their home because unless they do their grandchildren will have no nurturing home.
  • Those who, advanced in age, live in fear that this will be their last Christmas in their own home, still able to live life in their own way.
  • Those who struggle to make Christmas something their children will always remember but only add to the mounting worry about bills that cannot be paid.
  • Those who came to this country, desperate to find a new life, and who now live in fear that everything might be lost.
  • Those who want to live in the freedom of Christ but are still held captive by addiction.
  • Those who try to spread holiday cheer and comfort, all the while returning to homes where discord and distrust hold reign.
  • Those who are growing up different than others, in communities where young people are expected to mature in well-worn ways.
  • Those who are alienated from their family and friends, cut off from the faces meant to give them life.
  • Those, who think that they are alone in struggling with unbelief and with questions about their faith.
  • Those who are not here in the parish most Sundays because it has never been a place of comfort for them.

If a face or two has come before your mind, realize that God has given you a gift. You have seen the suffering of God’s cherished ones. Now it is up to you to decide how to make this command of God into the promise of your parish.

Comfort, give comfort to my people,
says your God.
Here is your God!
Here comes with power
the Lord God,
who rules by his strong arm;
here is his reward with him,
his recompense before him.
Like a shepherd he feeds his flock;
in his arms he gathers the lambs,
carrying them in his bosom,
and leading the ewes with care (Is 40:1, 10-11).

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11 2 Peter 3:8-14 Mark 1:1-8

The Rev. Terrance W. Klein is a priest of the Diocese of Dodge City and author of Vanity Faith.