Monsignor Enrique Díaz Díaz shares with Exaudi readers his reflection on the  Gospel of this Sunday, December 14, 2025, entitled: “Waiting for another?”.

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Isaiah 35:1-6, 10:  “God himself comes to save us”

Psalm 145:  “Come, Lord, to save us”

James 5:7-10:  “Stand firm, for the Lord is near.”

Matthew 5:7-10:  “Are you the one who is to come, or should we expect someone else?”

How powerful and hopeful resonate the words Isaiah offers us this Sunday!:  “Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the feeble knees. Say to those with fearful hearts, ‘Be strong, do not fear; see, your God, with vengeance and justice, is coming to save you.’” And he begins to describe the marvelous signs of the Savior’s presence among his people: the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame leap, and the tongue of the mute sings beautiful songs. While our people are immersed in doubt and fear; while crime and threats break even the bravest… The true disciple of Jesus contemplates his works and continues to trust solely in his word and his saving presence.

The Gospel challenges us to seek the true paths. Some questions sting because in the answer we hope to find the whole reason for living. John the Baptist, who had courageously announced the presence of the Messiah, who had demanded truth and consistency from the Pharisees and Sadducees when they tried to approach him to be baptized, who is languishing in prison for having denounced Herod’s sin, now also has his doubts about the Messiah’s authenticity. Perhaps he is right, for he does not perceive Jesus’s works as he had learned them, his fellow countrymen are disappointed, the people are not converting, and conflicts are growing… Has he fought in vain? That is why he sends his messengers to ask Jesus. The Master does not dwell on giving explanations or justifications of a messianic message; he simply sends the messengers away with that terse instruction: “Go and tell John what you are seeing and hearing.” The works Jesus presents to his disciples are not acts of vengeance, but liberating service to those in need of fullness of life. His identity is perfectly aligned with his works that heal, restore, and liberate. The powerful, vengeful, and righteous Messiah that the people of Israel longed for does not appear, but rather the merciful face that draws near to the suffering; the loving hand that lifts the fallen; and the light that gives new horizons and meaning to those who were blinded. He fulfills the prophecy of Isaiah, strengthening weary hands, steadying feeble knees, and encouraging the hearts of the weak with the presence of the Lord.

The Gospel of Jesus contains a theology of tenderness that is always healing and liberating. It is exercised in the activity of his entire person: with his words, his hands, his eyes, and above all, his heart. And it becomes concrete tenderness in the embrace that soothes, in the kisses that redeem, in the food that unites, in the dialogues that bring people closer, and in every single contact. It is not ideology, it is not subjugation, it is not manipulation; it is liberating gestures. Its defining characteristic is a passionate love for life. Witnesses will recount this struggle against everything that blocks life, that mutilates or diminishes it, his dedication to helping people grow. Did we expect such a Messiah? We are accustomed to other kinds of priorities; life seems to take a back seat, even though we theoretically defend it. We become engulfed in the whirlwind of work, anxiety, and violence, and people become mere cogs in a society that is never satisfied and demands more victims every day. And individuals and communities are subjected to this vortex that devours and destroys everything, that maims and kills.

Jesus makes Isaiah’s dream a reality:  the eyes of the blind are opened, the deaf ears are unstopped, and a new song of hope is sung.  It is much more than ideologies or reforms. Christ offers the affection that is lacking to so many people in their loneliness, in life’s crisis, in inner emptiness, despair, and fear. To make the Gospel a reality today, we too must offer affection, friendly closeness, respect, and attentive listening to every person; welcoming and understanding every life. If we do not, we cannot say that we are followers of Jesus… perhaps we too were waiting for “someone else” who would cater to our desires, who would create a religion to suit our whims… But therein lies the radical nature of the Gospel, which becomes a caress, self-giving, and solidarity with our brothers and sisters.

Perhaps we shouldn’t ask Jesus if He is the one we’re waiting for. Instead, we should change the question: Are we truly Christians? Are we the Christians we’re waiting for? Should we wait for other Christians? The real question is whether we are those Christians we’re waiting for, those in whom the Sermon on the Mount has taken deep root, and who prefer the Messiah’s “madness” to the prudence of the powerful who live in palaces, who dress in luxurious robes, and who close their windows so as not to hear the people’s cries. The question is whether we haven’t become like reeds bent by every breeze, doubt, or comfort. Whether, instead of sharing the Good News, we are criticizing, destroying, and extinguishing the smoldering wick. We must look deep within ourselves to see if we are the Christians we’re waiting for, committed to the cause of the poor, who fight with open hearts against injustice, who courageously denounce hypocrisy, and who are humble enough to acknowledge our own faults before judging others. Will we be these Christians, or should we wait for others? It is Advent, a time to give true signs of conversion, love, and brotherhood.

Good Father, look upon your people who, in the midst of sorrow, await the coming of your Son; grant them to celebrate the great mystery of Christmas with a renewed heart and immense joy. Amen