On this Second Sunday of Advent, we meet a man who never lets us get comfortable: John the Baptist.
If last week Jesus told us to wake up,
this week John tells us to clean up.
He stands in the wilderness shouting:
“Prepare the way of the Lord! Make His paths straight!”

And he says it not as a suggestion,
but as God’s call to every heart —
including ours today here at St Edward’s.

Advent is a beautiful season,
but it is not soft.
It is not simply four candles on a wreath
or gentle carols drifting in the background.

Advent is a spiritual construction site.
Isaiah describes God building a new world —
a world where justice and peace actually flourish,
where the wolf lies down with the lamb,
where children are safe,
where truth guides everything.

And John the Baptist says to us:
“Don’t just admire the picture.
Start preparing the ground for it.”

Advent isn’t passive waiting.
It’s active preparing.

John appears in the wilderness —
a place without comfort, distractions, or noise.
The wilderness is where God does His clearest work
because there is nothing else competing for our attention.

Every one of us knows what a wilderness feels like —
moments of tiredness, uncertainty, pressure, loneliness,
or simply the sense that life is cluttered and noisy.

But in Scripture, the wilderness is never punishment.
It is God’s workshop.
It’s the place He clears a space
so He can speak to us again.

If you feel stretched, tired, unsettled,
you are not far from God —
you are closer to the place where He does His best work.

John comes into that place and says:
“Good. Now, prepare a way for the Lord.”

John’s words are simple but sharp:

“Make straight the paths.”

He is speaking about the interior roads of the heart —
the places where sin bends us,
where habits trap us,
where resentment stiffens us,
where prayer has slipped away,
where our best intentions have become twisted.

Advent is the time to straighten what has grown crooked.

Not by willpower alone,
but by grace.

Ask yourself quietly:
Where is one crooked thing in my life
that needs straightening before Christmas?
Where is one blocked path
that makes it harder for Jesus to reach me?

It might be a temper.
It might be rushing through life without prayer.
It might be someone you avoid.
It might be something you know you need to confess.
It might be a habit that is slowly draining your joy.

John the Baptist doesn’t say:
“Fix everything.”
He says:
“Prepare the way.”
Start somewhere.
Clear one section.
Make one straight road.

One act of forgiveness.
One honest prayer.
One new decision.
One return to Mass.
One moment of silence in the day.

Straighten one path,
and the King will walk it.

Here in St Edward’s, Advent is a gift.
It interrupts the rush of December
with God’s quiet but insistent voice:

“Come back to Me.
Let Me prepare your heart.
Let Me come close.”

We don’t need to perform, impress, or pretend.
We only need to make space.

St Edward’s has always been a place
where people come seeking calm,
seeking clarity,
seeking the presence of God.

Advent invites us to renew that.
Not just as individuals,
but as a parish family.

Imagine what our parish could look like
if each of us cleared one path for Christ:
a little more patience,
a little less gossip,
a little more prayer,
a little more courage to love,
a little more attention for people who feel unseen.

That is how the Kingdom begins —
one straightened path at a time.

Isaiah gives us the vision:
the Spirit of the Lord resting on the Messiah,
justice rolling down like water,
peace no longer a dream but a reality.

John gives us the work:
repent, prepare, begin again.

But Christ gives us the reason:
He is coming.
Not as a distant judge,
but as a Saviour who wants to enter
the real landscape of your life —
the messy, hopeful, ordinary landscape
of your heart.

If we prepare the way,
He will come.
If we open the door,
He will enter.
If we straighten even one road,
He will walk it.

So today, at St Edward’s,
let us renew our Advent intention.

Let this week be a week of preparation —
quiet, honest, practical, grace-filled.

Clear one path.
Straighten one road.
Make one space for Christ to enter.

And He will come —
for that is His promise.