First Monday of Advent
1 December 2025
Only Say the Word: Advent Begins with Faith
Advent has begun, and with it comes a season of movement, not only God’s movement toward us, but our movement toward Him. The very word Advent means “coming,” and it reminds us that Christ comes to us in three ways: in history, born in Bethlehem; in mystery, through the Sacraments, prayer, and every person made in His image; and in majesty, at the end of time and at the end of our lives.
But Advent is not passive waiting. Yesterday’s collect at Mass asked God to give us the “resolve to run forth to meet Christ with righteous deeds at his coming.” Advent is active. It is watchful. It is expectant. Like the wise virgins in the parable, we keep our lamps burning. The Advent wreath burns brighter each week not simply to mark time but to symbolize a heart that is moving toward the Lord who is moving toward us.
Today’s readings show us how to make that interior movement toward Christ. And they do so through a surprising figure: a Roman centurion, a Gentile, someone who would have been seen as outside the boundaries of God’s covenant. Yet he becomes one of Advent’s greatest teachers.
Matthew tells us that when Jesus was entering Capernaum, the centurion did not wait until Jesus arrived in the town square. He went out to meet Him along the way. This is exactly the posture of Advent. Christ is coming, but we do not merely wait for Him to arrive. We move. We seek. We go out to meet Him where He is already approaching.
This is the first Advent virtue the centurion shows us: initiative.
He does not remain passive. He seeks the Lord with urgency, with purpose, and with hope.
How often do we wait for God to “show up” in our schedule, in our struggles, in our families? Advent invites us to take the first step to go out to meet Him in prayer, silence, Scripture, and acts of love.
The second Advent virtue the centurion models is humility. When he reaches Jesus, he does not present himself as a Roman official, a man of authority, or someone deserving attention. Instead he says the words we repeat at every Mass:
“Lord, I am not worthy to have you enter under my roof.”
This humility is not self-hatred or insecurity. It is the heart recognizing the greatness of the One who comes. It is the soul bowing before the God who draws near. True Advent preparation begins here, not with shopping, planning, or decorating, but with a humble heart that acknowledges its need for a Savior.
This humility creates space for Christ to come in. Pride crowd out grace. Humility makes room for Him.
The third Advent virtue is faith. The centurion believes Jesus’ word is not limited by distance, boundary, or circumstance. He believes Jesus does not need to be physically present in his home to heal his servant. He believes the Lord’s authority stretches beyond what the eye can see.
“Only say the word…”
This is Advent faith the trust that Christ’s word can reach into every part of our lives, even the parts we cannot fix, heal, or control.
And Jesus marvels. Imagine that Jesus marvels at him.
Not at a scholar.
Not at a priest.
Not at a disciple.
But at a Gentile soldier who believes more deeply than anyone in Israel.
During Advent, faith means trusting that Christ is coming into our mess, our fear, our wounds, our families, our hopes. And that His word is enough.
Isaiah gives us the conclusion: when the Lord comes, He becomes “glory,” “shelter,” “shade,” and “refuge.” He protects His people like a cloud by day and a fire by night just as He did in the Exodus.
Advent reminds us that Christ does the same for us.
He comes to cover our fears.
He comes to shield our hearts.
He comes to dwell among us as Emmanuel.
As Advent begins, let us imitate the centurion:
moving toward Christ,
humbling our hearts before Him,
and believing His word with renewed confidence.
May this season teach us to run forth to meet the One who is already coming toward us.