about those sandals (reflections Second Sunday of Advent, Year C)

 Reflections from a consistent ethic of hospitality: pro-life, pro-immigration

Second Sunday of Advent (Year C)

 

The Gospel today is Matthew 3:1-12. It’s about John the Baptist explaining himself, and has a slightly odd reference to sandals.

 

“I am baptizing you with water, for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is mightier than I. I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”

 

The contrast that John draws is clear enough. John is a herald; Jesus is the real figure. John’s ministry is about repentance and change; Jesus brings a new Spirit and a new world. There’s baptism with water and there’s baptism with fire. But off in a corner of the passage, there’s a stray remark about carrying sandals. Who carries someone else’s sandals? I’m a parent and grandparent; I have carried sandals for kids at the beach. And I am blessed to know a wonderful and holy guy who sells shoes, who really understands feet; he carries boxes of sandals and other footwear all the time. But that’s probably not what John is talking about. What does he mean?

 

Actually, all four Gospels describe this incident, when John identifies himself and points to Jesus. And all four say something about worthiness and sandals. Mark and John (the Evangelist) say John (the Baptist) says he isn’t worthy to untie Jesus’s sandals. Luke says John says he’s not worthy to loosen his sandal strap. So when Matthew says John says he’s not worthy to carry his sandals, that’s not about strolling around for a while holding someone else’s shoes; it’s about helping Jesus for a moment to get them off.

 

That’s slightly clearer, but what’s it got to do with worthiness?

 

Hospitality, following the model of Abraham, includes respect and welcome, and a place to relax, and food – and footcare, probably a pitcher of water to wash your feet. Maybe the host brings the water and you rinse off your own dusty feet, or maybe in a wealthy home a servant will wash your sore feet. But John says he’s not worthy to touch the Lord’s feet, nor even to handle his sandals.

 

The chance to offer hospitality to a great person is a great honor. But who amongst us is not a great person? Aren’t we surrounded by people who were created by God to know God forever, to be as free and easy as his own children and heirs in his kingdom? So then, isn’t every chance to offer hospitality to anyone a great honor?

 

John’s remark about sandals is a way to say the same thing that Catholics say at every Mass, right before Communion. “Lord, I am not worthy to offer you hospitality …”

 

During the destruction of the Roman empire, refugees fled across the Mediterranean Sea, going south from Italy to the coast of Africa, same as today but in the opposite direction. St. Augustine spoke about them, starting with a remark about Zacchaeus, the tax collector who hosted Jesus for a mid-day repast. Are you jealous of Zacchaeus? Don’t be jealous, says Augustine. If you want Jesus to come to dinner at your house, go down to the shore and scoop up a refugee! Guess who’s coming to dinner!

 

And maybe, if you are extra blessed, you can help him clean the sand off his feet. Like Mary.