Second Sunday of Advent 2025

You know this time of year in the North Country, you never quite know what you’re going to wake up to. Some mornings you open the door and it’s peaceful… other mornings it looks like Canada has blown its entire winter inventory onto Route 22.

But thank God for snowplows. Long before most of us even pour a cup of coffee, they’re out on the roads—clearing, scraping, pushing aside everything that keeps us from getting where we need to go. They make a safe path. They make it possible to move forward.

Today’s readings give us the spiritual version of that. “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight His paths.” John the Baptist is basically the original spiritual snowplow. He clears the way for Jesus. And he invites us to do the same.

A snowplow can only do its job if it pushes something out of the way—ice, snow, slush, whatever winter throws at us. In the same way, John the Baptist calls us to repentance. Repentance isn’t about guilt trips; it’s about clearing away the things that block God’s grace from moving freely in our lives: old grudges, habits that wear us down, voices that tell us we’re too busy, too tired, too far gone, attitudes that freeze our hearts, or sin we’ve grown used to. Advent isn’t passive waiting. It’s active clearing. What needs to be plowed in your heart so Christ has a path to come close?

Isaiah gives us that beautiful image: “A shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse.” A stump looks like the end of the story—cut down, finished, lifeless. But God sees something else. God sees the possibility of new life growing from what looks dead. Maybe you have stumps in your life—places you feel stuck, discouraged, or worn down. Advent says, don’t give up. God has a way of making shoots grow in places we never expected. This season isn’t about perfection. It’s about opening space for God to do something new.

Isaiah also gives us that dreamlike vision of wolves and lambs side by side, children playing where danger used to be, lions eating hay like oxen, and no harm or ruin anywhere. It sounds impossible… but that’s the world Jesus comes to build: a world where justice isn’t optional, a world where peace isn’t naive, a world where God’s people don’t just say prayers—they bear fruit.

John the Baptist puts it bluntly: “Produce good fruit as evidence of your repentance.” In other words: if God is moving in your life, someone else should be blessed by it.

So what does spiritual snowplowing look like today? Maybe it’s time to push aside some spiritual snow: a few minutes of prayer each morning, finally forgiving that person you keep avoiding, slowing down—just for five minutes—to let God catch up to you, coming to confession during Advent, choosing kindness when you’d rather react sharply, or welcoming someone new, as Christ welcomed us, like St. Paul urges today. Small acts. But each one clears a path.

And here’s the good news: Jesus isn’t waiting on the other end of that road. He’s already walking toward you. He just wants to meet you without anything blocking the way.

So tomorrow morning—or maybe even this afternoon—when you hear a plow scraping down the street, think of John the Baptist’s voice: “Prepare the way of the Lord!” Think of the Lord coming toward you this Advent—wanting to enter your life more deeply, wanting to bring hope to your stumps, wanting to create peace where there’s been strain. Let Him in. Clear a little space. Make a straight path. And the One who comes—the One Isaiah promised, the One John prepared for—will bring justice, mercy, and peace far greater than anything we could ever build on our own.