Comfort Food

You know, whenever I’ve had a bad day or a bad week or I’ve screwed something up big time, I like to sit down to some comfort food. Do you have comfort food? For most of us, I think, it is something that we really love to eat. Maybe it’s a meal from your childhood that makes you think of simpler times. Maybe it’s curling up on the sofa in your pajamas with a half-gallon of Hagen Daz, watching the Hallmark Channel. For me, it’s comfort chicken. Chicken breasts cooked in gravy with mashed potatoes and corn. Anything with gravy can be considered comfort food. There’s something about our favorite foods that brings us comfort when we feel down or depressed. It’s like wrapping yourself up in a warm, cozy blanket.

This time of year can require a lot of comfort food. The days are getting shorter, it’s getting dark earlier and earlier, and that can be depressing. For some, the stress of the shopping and planning and entertaining can bring sadness, not joy.  For others, the loss of someone close to them can make this season dark, not bright. Even the weather, the cold and snow, can drive us into the comforting arms of someone we love.

The prophet Isaiah is told in our first reading to bring comfort to the people. But he does not tell them to eat something yummy. Instead, he tells them that God is aware of their plight and will deliver them from captivity. You see, the Hebrews had been conquered by the Babylonians in 588 BC. Those who were not murdered were exiled to Babylon. 

They were literally marched over the desert bound together, some even with hooks through them to keep them from running away. In Babylon they had no army, no power, no ability to revolt, no hope for escape, at least no hope of their own. Their only hope was that God would see their plight and deliver them from their slavery just as he had delivered their ancestors from slavery in Egypt during the time of Moses. So, the people became far more fervent, far more committed to their faith. They took comfort in the stories of their past and heritage. They took comfort by keeping alive the traditions of their ancestors.

And God heard them and he promised them a Savior, a deliverer. They had to prepare for His coming, for He would come in a power and might the world had never experienced. Then Jerusalem, the city that had been destroyed, would not only be rebuilt but would be restored as the center of God's people.

"See, He comes,” the prophet says, "And like a shepherd he will feed his flock, gather his lambs in his arms, and lead the ewe lambs home with great care.” The Hebrews took comfort in that promise. Five to six hundred years after this prophecy, John the Baptist appeared with a mandate to give comfort to the people. As in the time of Babylon, a savior, a deliverer would come; only this deliverer would save the people from the power of sin. As in the time of Isaiah, the people had to prepare for the Savior. John the Baptist would preach a message of repentance. Sin had to be defeated within each person for evil to be defeated in the world. The people who heard John saw a man dressed like a prophet clothed in camel hair, eating insects and honey. They listened to his call for them to join him in preparing for the Kingdom of God. 

They listened to his telling them that the Savior was at hand. And so we return to those days before the public manifestation of Jesus, when the world was sitting on the edge of its chair, ready to leap with joy at the coming of the Lord. Comfort was coming then. Comfort is coming now. It is not found in ordinary food. Comfort is found in union with the Lord through the food of the Eucharist. The Eucharist is the ultimate comfort food, isn’t it? Thirteen years ago on September 11^th and 12^th, people weren’t flocking to the malls or the car dealerships or restaurants for comfort. They weren’t looking for comfort in material things. They were flocking to the churches. They were hugging and consoling one another and gathering to eat the Bread of Life together.

People always seem to gather together at Mass whenever something bad happens in their lives. Illness or death or great loss requires comfort, and they find it here, in unity with us. It is the same hope and promise of Advent that draws us here together throughout the year. And it’s good that it does. This weekend we see an important aspect of turning to God, that is, recognizing not only that we need God, but that we need other people - and they need us. 

And as we prepare for Christmas, we do so not just to celebrate the birth of the Lord 2014 years ago but to celebrate his coming into each of our lives every day. And like the prophet Isaiah predicted, like the prophet John the Baptist demanded, we must fill in the valleys of our hearts, the gaps where we exclude the Lord, and level the mountains, the barriers of resistance we construct that block His Way. 

We must build a highway for Christ into our hearts. Jesus Christ is a reality, not an ideal. He is coming into our lives, if we let Him. We have to prepare for Him. Christmas is the celebration of love. It is a celebration of the Love that God the Father has for us to send us His Son. It is the celebration of the love we have for each other, manifested externally in gifts, but only as reflections of the love within each of us. For a gift given out of necessity is not a gift of love, it is just an obligation of a season. God the Father gave us a gift of love. We need to return this gift to Him by giving our deep love to each other. 

That means we need to fill in those holes where we allow ourselves to be empty, where we refuse love. For some of us, those holes are canyons. Our refusal to forgive those who have hurt us has created a hole in our hearts that has hampered the coming of the Lord into our lives. We have to level the mountains and hills we have constructed as barriers to love. Our selfishness, our using other people for our own happiness, our dependency on externals for happiness, our seeking happiness in hedonism and in materialism have all become mountains and hills, barriers to love. We cannot and must not allow this to continue. We can fill in the canyons. We can forgive. We can level the mountains. We can remove the barriers to the spiritual. We can be people ready to receive our King, our Savior, our Deliverer. 

C.S. Lewis observed, "every time you make a choice you are turning the central part of you, the part of you that chooses, into something a little different from what it was before." It is up to us to decide whether that change is positive or negative. Lewis also said, “Though God made us without our consent, He will not save us without our permission.” It is us up to us individually and collectively to turn towards the light or stay in the darkness. Darkness brings fear and anxiety. Light brings us comfort.

The spiritual impact of this drama of light is brought into the Church during Advent. Our hymns turn to images of light. The darker it gets, the more candles we light on the Advent wreath. In the darkest days of December, our Advent wreath is at its brightest. As Scripture says, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it … The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world” An old prayer says, Within our darkest night you kindle a fire that never dies away.

And then, on December 24th, in the middle of one of the longest nights of the year, the liturgy of Christmas begins: Christ is born and on December 25th a new light shines. From then on, the days get longer. It is good and natural that we gather together with family and friends, and our faith community, during Advent and Christmastime to offer and receive comfort and joy. Life can seem overwhelmingly negative sometimes. Life can drain the hope from our hearts. But the message of Jesus has always been one of hope. Hope for me, hope for you, hope for all of humanity. And I find that comforting beyond measure.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go watch the Hallmark Channel.