Alleluia: Prepare God’s Way

Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist
June 23, 2022 ( usually 6/24)

Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we celebrate the feast of John the Baptist! What a life! What a man!

Alleluia, alleluia.
You, child, will be called prophet of the Most High,
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way.


From a little baby leaping in his mother’s womb to the grown man ferociously in love with God, John the Baptist is holy fire in the flesh.

I’ve had a real love for him since my early religious life. Mother Mary Bernard, Mother General in the early 60s, had great devotion to John. She chose June 24th both to receive me and my companions into the community, and to celebrate our First Profession.

I remember Mother talking to us during a retreat leading up to one of these events. She spoke at length about John, emphasizing one particular verse he uttered:

Mother said that coming to understand this verse was what a holy, joyful, and complete life was all about.


Here is a reflection I wrote about John a few years ago.

The Sharp Edge

John the Baptist by Caravaggio

In John the Baptist, we celebrate the greatest of the prophets, a man whom history has now sanctified in Scripture, statue, painting, and song.

But what might it have been like to know him in time?

Prophets generally make us uncomfortable. Like John, they shake up their family’s routine, sometimes rendering their parents speechless and their neighbors astounded. They might dress oddly, rant a bit, and follow a strange diet. They hang out in inhospitable places. Prophets are the oddities on the edge of our striving for comfort. Someone like John the Baptist would not be the most popular member of your country club.

And yet John the Baptist’s call is one given, in its own particular measure, to every disciple of Christ: 

  • Go to the sharp edge of your existence. That is where you will find the Divine Presence. 
  • Go by way of the inner desert, continually learning the aridity of all that is not God. 
  • Shed the trappings that separate you from the Holy – be they the adoration of wealth, power, or vanity. 
  • Then speak the Truth you have become.

The poet Mary Oliver put it simply this way:

Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.

Where will we find the prophets today? At the borders of everything. But they will be building bridges, not walls. They will be inviting the rest of us out of the quagmire of our comfort zones to come see Christ rising on the bright distance of our courage. Today’s prophets, like John, will be pointing away from themselves to the place where Christ waits with His counter-cultural Gospel – among those who are poor, weakened by the world, among the marginalized who live at life’s sharp edge where Grace is most accessible because it is all there is.

The wonderful Baptist, robed in his camel hair, eating locusts, shouting and throwing people into the Jordan! The greatest of the prophets calls down the hills of time to us today: “Behold One is coming after me. Prepare your hearts! Do not miss Him!”

Poetry: John the Baptist –  Kelly Chripczuk

He didn’t see it, but felt it
through the darkness
of his mother’s womb,
the flame that baptized
drawn close enough
to singe his foot,
which caused him to leap.
The wild fire caught
and grew, ruining him
for a life of conformity.
So he moved to the wilderness
somewhere near the river’s edge
where others were drawn
by the smoldering flame.
He doused them each with water,
warning them one-by-one
of the fire to come.
Later, when he leapt
from this world to the next,
leaving his head behind,
he was greeted by the fellowship
of the flame – Isaiah
with his charred black lips,
Miriam who danced
like a flickering wick,
and the others, too many now to name
together they glowed like
so many embers,
lighting the long, dark night.

Visit Kelly’s wonderful website ” The Contemplative Life” at:

https://thiscontemplativelife.org


Music: BWV30 Cantata for Nativity of St John the Baptist – Karl Richter conducting

First Part

  1. Aria (S, A, T, B)

Joyful be, O ransomed throng,
Joyful be in Zion’s dwellings.
Thy well-being hath henceforth
Found a sure and solid means
Thee with bliss and health to shower.

  1. Recit. (B)

We have our rest,
The burden of the law
Has been removed.
Nought shall from this repose distract us,
Which our belovéd fathers oft
Had sought with yearning and with hope.
Come forth,
Be joyful all, whoever can,
And raise to pay their God due honor
A song of praise,
And all the heav’nly choir,
Yea, sing in glad accord!

  1. Aria (B)

All praise be to God, all praise for his name’s sake,
Who faithfully keepeth his promise and vow!
His faithful servant hath been born now,
Who long had for this been elected,
That he the Lord his way prepare.

  1. Recit. (A)

The herald comes and sounds the king’s approach,
He calls; so tarry not
And get ye up,
And with a lively pace
Rush to this voice’s call!
It shows the way, it shows the light
By which we on those blessed pastures
At last may surely gaze with wonder.

  1. Aria (A)

Come, ye sorely tempted sinners,
Haste and run, O Adam’s children,
This your Savior calls and cries!
Come forth, ye like sheep that wander,
Rise ye up from sin-filled slumber,
For now is the hour of grace!

  1. Chorale (S, A, T, B)

There a voice of one is crying
In the desert far and wide,
Leading mankind to conversion:
For the Lord the way prepare,
Make for God a level path,
All the world should henceforth rise,
Every valley shall be lifted,
That the mountains may be humbled.

Second Part

  1. Recit. (B)

If thou dost then, my hope, intend
That law which thou didst make
With our forefathers to maintain
And in thy gracious might o’er us to reign,
Then will I set with utmost care
On this my purpose:
Thee, faithful God, at thy command
In holiness and godly fear to live.

  1. Aria (B)

I will detest now
And all avoid
Which thee, my God, doth cause offense.

I will thee not cause sadness,
Instead sincerely love thee,
For thou to me so gracious art.

  1. Recit. (S)

And even though the fickle heart
In human weakness is innate,
Yet here and now let this be said:
So oft the rosy morning dawns,
So long one day the next one lets ensue,
So long will I both strong and firm
Through thine own Spirit live,
My God, entirely for thine honor.
And now shall both my heart and voice
According to thy covenant
With well deservéd praise extol thee.

  1. Aria (S)

Haste, ye hours, come to me,
Bring me soon into those pastures!

I would with the holy throng
To my God an altar raise,
In the tents of Kedar offered,(1)
Where I’ll give eternal thanks.

  1. Recit. (T)

Forbear, the loveliest of days
Can no more far and distant be,
When thou from every toil
Of imperfection’s earthly burdens,
Which thee, my heart, doth now enthrall,
Wilt come to have thy perfect freedom.
Thy hope will come at last,
When thou with all the ransomed spirits,
In that perfected state,
From death here of the body wilt be freed,
And there thee no more woe will torment.

  1. Aria (S, A, T, B)

Joyful be, O hallowed throng,
Joyful be in Zion’s pastures!

Of thy joyful majesty,
Of thy full contentment’s bliss
Shall all time no end e’er witness.

Every Broken Branch

( I wrote this reflection for the Sisters of Mercy. It will be available on that blog as well. You may be interested in some of the other excellent articles to be found there.
Click here for Sisters of Mercy blog.)

Today, in Mercy, we enter the sacred embrace of Holy Week.

Palm Sunday is a feast with two faces.

Jesus rides in triumph into Jerusalem, but his deep heart realizes that the road ultimately leads to his death. Jesus, who once called himself the Vine, knows that the bright green branches waved in adulation will soon be trampled to the ground.

Phil2_palm sunday

In these final days of Lent, we are faced with the question, “What turns green hope to crumbled brown in us – and how can it be green again?”

Many years ago, I sat in a marbled, flowered funeral home with a bereaved father.

“There are things worse than death,” he said.  After several absent years, his drug-addicted son had been found dead in an alley, under the cardboard box where he lived.  “At least I know where he is now.  Finally, we can all be at peace.”

Jack’s son had been lost to him.  In the stranglehold of heroin, the great hope of his young life had degenerated into profound suffering.  The vigor of his early dreams had withered, like broken tendrils on the once hopeful vine. It was, in every sense, a human tragedy.

Jesus understood such withering.  He prayed for his disciples that they would not suffer it.  He knew what would face him and them in the week following the lifted palms. He knows what will face us as we try to discern the honest path to joy, peace and fulfillment.

The enticements of evil are deceptive.  Greed comes clothed as entitlement. Lust masquerades as passion, addiction as pleasure. They entwine and choke us in a false embrace that whispers, “This is for you.”  Fed by the fear of never having or being enough, we resort to these very catalysts that will destroy us.  Even the voice of love struggles to reach someone locked in this cycle of self-absorption.  Like every barren branch, they wilt and sever themselves from all that could enliven them.

Jesus acknowledges that the choice for life is not always easy.  He tells the disciples that, indeed, they will be pruned.  No life escapes the incisions of hard experience. Like his followers, we too will face loss, pain, frustration and diminishment.  But if our hearts have been fed by his word, we will hold to grace and we will thrive.

Much of the Palm Sunday crowd shifted gears by Friday, becoming a rabble of accusers.  They could not follow Jesus through Calvary to his Resurrection.

But there is no true life apart from God.  There is no path to perfection and joy but through God’s Will.  The Passion and Death of Jesus have already set our roots in this blessed soil.  May we cling by grace to that treasured Vine.

Music: J.S. Bach – Cantata; Himmelskönig, sei willkommen / King of Heaven, be Thou welcome – BWV 182