Second Sunday of Advent, Year A
Readings: Isaiah 11:1–10; Psalm 71(72):1–2, 7–8, 12–13, 17; Romans 15:4–9; Matthew 3:1–12
7 December 2025
“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is close at hand.” – Matthew 3:2
Today’s readings remind us that Advent is about preparing for Christ’s coming both at Christmas and when he calls us home to himself for eternity. We do this by cooperating with God’s grace through repentance and turning to God. This has been the call of the Gospel that the Church has, and always will, proclaim until Christ comes again. But because we hear the call to repent so often, we can let Advent pass by without giving it the serious attention we should.
In his apostolic exhortation, Reconciliation and Penance, St John Paul II said, “People cannot come to true and genuine repentance until they realise that sin is contrary to the ethical norm written in their inmost being.” In other words, until we acknowledge that sin is real and that I personally sin, we cannot truly repent or turn to God. This is at the heart of John’s call to “prepare a way for the Lord”, and our Advent preparation. The paradox is that in confessing our sinfulness, we come to know not only the love, mercy and forgiveness of God, but the profound peace our Lord offers us. As our life unfolds through the passing years, we come to understand and appreciate this more and more. May we each come to know God’s promise of love and mercy, and experience his forgiveness in our lives this Advent.
O Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us. St Joseph, guide and protect us. Amen.
Fr Christopher G. Sarkis
Artwork Spotlight
St John the Baptist (Playing with a Lamb) by Michelangelo Merisi Da Caravaggio (1571–1610).
St John the Baptist (Playing with a Lamb) (c. 1602–1603). Oil on canvas, 102.5cm x 83cm Kunstmuseum, Basel, Switzerland. Public Domain.
Today, John the Baptist enters the Advent liturgy. He is considered the last of the Old Testament prophets, and the bridge between the Old and the New. We may consider prophets to be shadowy figures, often frightening figures who belong to a past world. And yet, we know from our Catechism that at our Baptism and Confirmation, in imitation of Christ, we were appointed as priests, prophets, and kings. Perhaps we have never properly understood these roles—especially that of prophet.
It is often easier to grasp our priestly role in the world: we sanctify it and give praise to God through our prayer life and our works of love. Our kingly role is also real, though often misunderstood: by faith and hope, we share in Christ’s victory over sin and death.
But most visibly, we are prophets. We announce by our very way of life the existence of another kingdom to which our earthly one must give way. This is why when St Luke introduces John in the third chapter of his Gospel, he situates his ministry historically: “In the fifteenth year of Tiberius Caesar’s reign, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, Herod tetrarch of Galilee, his brother Philip tetrarch of the territories of Iturea and Trachonitis, Lysanias tetrarch of Abilene, and while the high priesthood was held by Annas and Caiaphas” (Lk 3:1–2). Like John, we exist in a definite moment of history, and like him, in a fractured society. We live in the midst of two worlds—two different orders of reality: that of Caesar and that of God.
They are not mutually exclusive, of course. Jesus would later say, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Mk 12:17). But when the two kingdoms collide, as when Caesar Augustus declares himself divine, then Christ’s followers must take a stand: “Obedience to God comes before obedience to men” (Acts 5:29).
And Luke is highlighting the religious situation in Israel: David’s kingdom lay broken and the Holy Land was living once more in the seeming darkness of the divine absence. God had been silent. Had he forgotten his promises? God seemed to have abandoned his people. There were no longer any prophets.
But God had not forgotten. It was Israel that had forgotten. “Can a woman forget the baby at her breast, feel no pity for the child she has borne? Even if these were to forget, I shall not forget you” (Is 49:15). God’s time is not always our time. And so, John’s message, which is also for us: “The kingdom of heaven is close at hand” (Mt 3:1). As God chose John for his time, so he has chosen you and me for our own time.
Prophecy means bringing the word of God into the daily affairs of our world. It is an affirmation of divine values in secular affairs. It speaks and acts for justice, truth, freedom, and love in temporal matters. The result is peace—the divine promise. St Peter reminds us, “[To] always have your answer ready for people who ask you the reason for the hope that you have. But give it with courtesy and respect” (1 Pet 3:15).
To be a prophet in the modern world does not necessarily mean standing on a soapbox. For some, it will mean that. We need public figures to inspire us and to call out injustice. For most, it will involve just the daily grind—parents bringing up their children in the love and knowledge of God; care workers and those in essential services upholding the dignity of those they serve.
I am reminded of the words of Pope St John Paul II: “The eyes of faith behold a wonderful scene: that of a countless number of lay people, both women and men, busy at work in their daily life and activity, oftentimes far from view and quite unacclaimed by the world, unknown to the world’s great personages but nonetheless looked upon in love by the Father, untiring labourers who work in the Lord’s vineyard. Confident and steadfast through the power of God’s grace, these are the humble yet great builders of the Kingdom of God in history” (Christifideles Laici, 17).
Born Michelangelo Merisi in 1571, Caravaggio revolutionised Western art with his realism and his dramatic use of light and shadow.
Painted around 1602–1603, St John the Baptist Playing with a Lamb was created during a turbulent period of the artist’s life. His depictions of the Baptist form a distinctive group of his work. He painted at least seven versions, each exploring different aspects of John’s personality.
Here, Caravaggio does not show John as the fiery prophet, but rather in his formative years, not yet proclaiming, but preparing. “Meanwhile the child grew up and his spirit grew strong. And he lived in the desert until the day he appeared openly to Israel” (Lk 1:80).
John is presented as a youth, seated on the ground, bare-chested and wrapped loosely in a camel-hair cloak. His gaze is cast downwards, absorbed in a quiet moment with a lamb which reciprocates his gentle touch. The lamb, of course, represents Christ whom John will identify as the Lamb of God. Here, John’s proclamation is made not with words, but with a quiet gesture of affection. In his right hand, he holds a small bouquet of white and red flowers—white for purity, and red for martyrdom. Together, they prefigure Christ’s sacrifice and John’s own death.
The painting illustrates the idea that God calls us in silence and simplicity, not just in dramatic ways. John’s youth and closeness to the lamb invites young people to consider their own closeness to Christ. And the Lamb of God in John’s lap alludes to our meeting him in the Eucharist: “Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the supper of the Lamb.”
Mons Graham Schmitzer
Fr Christopher G Sarkis
Fr Christopher G Sarkis is the parish priest of Our Lady Help of Christians Parish in Rosemeadow, NSW. Ordained in 1985, he has served in various parishes in the Diocese of Wollongong. His current diocesan roles include the College of Consultors, Council of Priests, and Clergy Remuneration Fund.
Monsignor Graham Schmitzer
Monsignor Graham Schmitzer is a retired parish priest. He was ordained in 1969 and served in many parishes in the Diocese of Wollongong. He was chancellor and secretary to Bishop William Murray for 13 years. Prior to ordination, he worked for the Department of Attorney General and Justice before entering St Columba’s College in 1962. He enjoys travelling and visiting major European art galleries.
With thanks to the Diocese of Wollongong, who have supplied this reflection from their publication, The Promise: Advent and Christmas Daily Reflections 2025. Reproduced with permission.
