We listen quite a while before we get to the “punch line” of the first reading today: even though it would be an easy thing to do, David will not harm the anointed one of the Lord. We, of course, know that Jesus is the Messiah, the anointed one of God, but the Bible uses this term for many different people. It is scripture’s way of indicating who has been chosen by God for a special place and mission in salvation history.

When we think of the word “Beatitude” we think of today’s discourse from Luke’s Gospel or the more familiar one from Matthew (which begins “Blessed are the poor in spirit . . . ”). Actually, beatitudes occur throughout the prophets and Gospels.

Confronted with God’s power and majesty, the first response of the prophet Isaiah was to acknowledge his sinfulness. “Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips,” he said aloud. Likewise, with his empty fishing nets dramatically filled at Jesus’ instruction, Peter fell to his knees and cried out, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”

The song of the angels, “Holy, Holy, Holy,” resounds from our lips at every Mass. There was a widespread belief in the first religions of the world that God stirred creation into being by a word, a song, a musical note. Music and a sense of God’s presence have always been inseparable.

Saturday’s feast of the Presentation is a day for the blessing of candles. Why does liturgy require candles? In the first years of the church, worship was often at night, and candles and torches were carried from place to place within the worship space as needed. Candles were also a mark of festivity and hospitality when people gathered for prayer in homes, and later on in large buildings with thick walls and dark corners. But even after gaslight and electricity, candles were kept.

We find it difficult to convey ideas to people unless we can actually show them something, demonstrate what we mean. God, who is invisible and truly beyond human understanding, apparently faces the same difficulty. People want to see, not just listen to an idea. So God gave us Jesus Christ, God made visible in the world.

For many weeks now, we have been celebrating the appearance of the divine presence in human form. As a child, he came to Mary and Joseph, was seen by the shepherds, and then by some wandering magi from the East. Today we celebrate another showing, later in time, to a group gathered at the Jordan River.

The splendid magi, all sparkle and dash and solemnity, march right up off the pages of Matthew’s Gospel and into our churches today. Matthew alone tells us this grand and seductive story so that we might see the light and know that the child these magi visited is the fulfillment of prophecy, the king of the world that stretches to the magi’s home country and beyond, right down the ages to us.

The idea, dream, and reality of family is so strong and durable that we use it to describe all that is best about human gatherings. We speak of the family of nations, of our church and parish families. The greatest compliment we can pay a friend or gracious host is to say that we feel at home with them, we feel part of the family.

Throughout our lives, we retain the language and habits of our native region and family of origin. Should we return to our home after a long absence, we quickly revert to its familiar speech and practices. Our deep memory is reflected in old stories and words and speech patterns. This familiarity runs like an underground river and accompanies us wherever we go.

Today has traditionally been called “Gaudete Sunday.” The Latin tag is derived from Paul’s appeal in the second reading to “rejoice always in theLord,” and the Latin Mass text based on that reading. The irony and paradox of this Christian joy is underlined by the fact that Paul wrote those wordsin prison. But from there he could see the progress of God’s work.

The world does not seem big enough to contain the jubilation of the first reading. In the Gospel reading, the Roman empire isn’t big enough, either.The great powers of Rome are named and made to stand waiting for the arrival of God’s salvation. And we find Paul meditating joyfully on what reallymatters.

Occasionally, someone raises a surprised complaint that while Christmas arrives on Santa’s sleigh at the Macy’s parade on Thanksgiving Day, the Church doesn’t catch on too fast. They may even say that Advent is a new fangled idea. Not so.