December 4, 2022 (2nd Sunday of Advent)
/“Give ’Em the Axe”
by Fr. Dominic DeLay, O.P.
[This is the text composed by the homilist prior to delivering the homily.]
John the Baptist is a little angry:
Even now the ax lies at the root of the trees.
Therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit
will be cut down and thrown into the fire.
He sounds like Stanford students of old who used to chant at the Big Game:
Give ’em the axe the axe the axe.
Give ’em the axe the axe.
I’m surprised that I haven’t found a current student who knows that traditional Big Game chant that inspired the idea of having an actual axe. What are they teaching you here? One student said to me, “Why would you want to give them the axe? The idea is to get it.” I explained with professorial authority that we want to “give ’em the axe.” Kind of like the unrepentant Stanford Tree recently got the axe. But that’s another story.
At any rate, John the Baptist is angry. He not only wants Stanford students to repent of their ignorance of one of their greatest traditions, but also wants us all to repent from anything getting in the way of the coming Christ. And he’s not talking about a cute baby. Last week you might have re-experienced your annual surprise that we begin Advent each year, not with anticipation of the Christmas baby but anticipation of Christ’s coming again. Given that we’re celebrating our annual “Early Holiday Liturgy” tonight, and given these very early Christmas decorations, it might be understandable if you also forgot that the 2nd and 3rd Sundays of Advent always present us with John the Baptist’s cry. Still no cry or even a peep from or about the baby. Where’s the early holiday?
John the Baptist calls us to prepare, not for the birth of a baby or to give the axe to a Christmas tree, but for the coming of the adult Jesus’ hopeful yet challenging kingdom. He warns that the axe lights at the root of the trees that don’t bear good fruit. Is that us?
How do we prepare for the kingdom so we don’t get axed? “Repent!” he shouts at us. What do you hear when you hear repent? Another list of things to do and not do? But we’re all so busy. Students have a million things to do during the first three weeks of Advent. How to make time for repentance when you’ve got finals to worry about? Repent comes from the Latin word for pain. Do we really have the energy and will right now to take up a painful regimen of discipline and contrition in order to curry God’s favor? Besides, we’ve been trying and trying to axe our persistent bad habits out of our lives.
But that’s not what we really mean by repentance. The original Greek is metanoia, a change of mind. That may not sound that attractive either, let alone possible. It’s one thing to change our behavior, but who here wants to change their mind about anything? And we’re talking about a change of mind that leads to transformation. It’s a coming to our senses in such a profound way that we can’t help but transform or lives.
And it isn’t inspired by fear, even if John the Baptist seems to want to strike some fear in our hearts. Metanoia, true repentance, is inspired by God’s Spirit flowing through our lives. After all, we know we can’t change our way of living, and certainly not our mind, without God’s help. Metanoia isn’t changing our minds about how to act. It’s changing our mind about who Jesus really is in our lives. Is he the one we completely rely on? As the old song says, “Free your mind, and the rest will follow.”
John describes the Holy Spirit as a kind of fire. True, fire can be painful, but it is also purifying, warming, and ultimately life-giving. With God’s help, we can and will be trees that bear the good fruit of the kingdom. Or, rather, with God’s help and each other’s help, we will become a communal tree that bears good fruit. More accurately still, through the power of the Holy Spirit, we will become a healthy branch on the tree that is Christ. In today’s prophecy, Isaiah describes the flourishing of this tree from a stump that has received the axe:
On that day, a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom.
Jesus isn’t the fighting Messiah that Isaiah envisioned, but to our ears Isaiah had an inkling of what the peace the Messiah would bring:
Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.
Almost sounds like Christmas, doesn’t it? Forgive me if I anticipate the nativity scene, with its peaceful animals. I’m picturing a place where the bear lies peacefully in its cardinal red Christmas sweater, under the protection of a certain mischievous tree, the axe resting in its place on the wall, never to be used – or stolen – again. I’m imagining a scene where Democrat donkeys and Republican elephants play well together. Isaiah continues painting the picture, which extends well beyond a nativity scene:
There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD, as water covers the sea.
When I used to travel with my non-Pac 12 college glee club way back when, the give ’em the axe chant was kept alive by us Gentiles with a mischievous twist. We would thank those who hosted our concerts and fed us with a wordless, clapped version of the chant. Our hosts thought we were thanking them, and we were, but as we were applauding we were also laughing to ourselves at the unspoken words directed at our hosts: Give ’em the axe.
May all our singing and praying today/tonight, our early holiday clapping of hearts, applaud with gusto the coming Christ, who comes this very moment to free our minds, to bring us to our senses, so that, together, we can bear great fruit and welcome Christ’s kingdom of peace.
