“What things soever were written, were written for our learning; that, through patience and the comfort of the scriptures, we might have hope.” – Romans 15:4
“Art thou he that art to come, or look we for another?” – Matthew 11:3
As Holy Church moves us ever closer to the glorious mystery of the Incarnation, today’s liturgical texts shine with the virtue of hope—a hope forged in patience, confirmed by Scripture, and fulfilled in Christ.
The Patience of the Prophets and the Consolation of the Scriptures
In Romans 15, St. Paul anchors our Advent meditation in the continuity of God’s plan across the ages. “Whatever things were written aforetime,” he says, “were written for our learning.” The Apostle sees in the Old Testament not simply past history, but the divine pedagogy of hope: the Law and the Prophets are not obsolete but pregnant with Christ, waiting to give birth to the fullness of truth.
St. John Chrysostom comments on this passage, noting that “the apostle honors the Old Testament as being from God… and shows its usefulness, not only to the Jews but also to the Gentiles.”¹ The Scriptures teach us patience, for the promises are not always fulfilled immediately. They unfold in the slow rhythm of God’s providence. This is the very heart of Advent: patient watching, waiting, hoping—not with despair, but with certainty rooted in what God has already done.
St. Paul goes on to show that the Messiah’s mission encompasses the Gentiles as well as the Jews, quoting from the Psalms, Deuteronomy, Isaiah—Scriptures that reveal a salvation destined for all peoples. Advent, then, is not only Israel’s vigil but ours, the vigil of the Gentiles. We, too, await the full manifestation of Him who has already come.
The Coming One: Certainty in the Midst of Doubt
The Gospel from St. Matthew presents a dramatic moment: St. John the Baptist, imprisoned, sends his disciples to ask Jesus, “Art Thou He that art to come, or look we for another?” This question, often misunderstood, does not reveal doubt in John’s heart, but rather his desire to lead his disciples to Christ.
St. Ambrose teaches that John, “like a good master, does not suffer his disciples to be always learning, but sends them to Christ, that they may learn from the very fountain.”² He is decreasing, that Christ may increase (cf. John 3:30). Even in prison, John remains the Forerunner.
The Lord’s response is not a simple “yes”—instead, He refers to the works foretold by Isaiah: the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead rise, and the poor have the gospel preached to them. In these signs, He manifests that He is indeed the fulfillment of the prophecies.
St. Gregory the Great observes: “He said not, ‘I am He,’ but, ‘Go and show John again those things which ye do hear and see,’ because God is to be known by His works.”³ Christ does not ask for blind faith but invites belief through divine action and fulfillment of the Scriptures.
The Voice Crying in the Wilderness
Our Lord goes on to affirm the greatness of John: not a reed shaken by the wind, not a man in soft clothing, but a prophet—and more than a prophet. John is the very messenger spoken of in Malachi: “Behold, I send My angel before Thy face.”
St. Jerome says of this verse: “John is the boundary between the Old and New Testaments; he represents the Old, and points to the New.”⁴ Thus, he is the perfect Advent figure: standing between shadow and light, between promise and fulfillment. In his austere person, the call to penance resounds—a call needed in every generation, but especially in this time of preparation.
The Fruit of Advent Hope: Unity and Joy
Returning to St. Paul’s exhortation, we see that the fruit of hope is not only personal consolation but ecclesial unity. “Be of one mind one towards another,” he urges, that we may glorify God “with one mouth.” Unity is the hallmark of those who truly hope in Christ. The Church Fathers often associate division with despair and pride; unity, with charity and hope.
This unity is not based on mere human agreement but on the “Root of Jesse,” the one who “shall rise to rule the Gentiles; in Him shall the Gentiles hope.” (cf. Is. 11:10). Advent culminates not only in the nativity of Christ in the flesh, but in the gathering of all nations to worship Him. This is the joy for which we wait.
Conclusion: Living Advent in the Spirit of the Forerunner
On this Tuesday of the Second Week of Advent, the liturgy invites us to imitate the patience of the prophets, the steadfastness of John the Baptist, and the hope of the nations. Let us, like John, decrease that Christ may increase in us. Let us, like the Gentiles, receive the Scriptures not with foreign ears, but as those adopted into the household of God.
In the silence of Advent, the Church waits with longing—singing the ancient prophecies, lighting candles in the dark, and repeating the cry of Israel: Veni, Domine, et noli tardare!