November 30, 2025
First Sunday of Advent
Fr. Francesco Ielpo, Custos of the Holy Land
May the Lord give you Peace. I am Fr. Francesco Ielpo, Custos of the Holy Land.
Today we begin a new liturgical year, and with it the season of Advent. It is a time of waiting, of silence, of longing. Advent always has two directions: to remember the first coming of Jesus, in the mystery of Christmas, and to await His final coming, when He will return in glory. It is a time that unites memory and hope, past and future, because all of history is oriented toward the final encounter with the Lord.
The Gospel of this Sunday takes us back to the “days of Noah.”
People lived absorbed in their occupations, unaware of anything. Eating, drinking, marrying, working - all good things - had become the only horizon of life. Yet while everything flowed in ordinary routine, Noah was building an ark. In the eyes of others, he seemed foolish. And yet, that ark saved him.
Even today, in a distracted world, those who pray, who seek silence, who build within themselves a space for God may seem out of place. But the “ark” we build in the spiritual life is what saves us from the flood of superficiality.
The flood, in the end, is the loss of meaning - losing the reason for what we do, the difference between what matters and what passes away.
The problem is not dying - that will happen to all of us - but living without a final horizon. Living as if everything were here, as if the only horizon were what we possess or consume. Advent reminds us that every moment contains a fragment of eternity. That every moment determines the direction of our lives.
Eternal life already begins now, when we love. Because only what is done out of love, out of love for Christ, remains forever. Every act of goodness, forgiveness, and listening is a seed of eternity that time cannot destroy.
Jesus invites us to keep watch like someone who protects the house from thieves during the night. A strange image: the Lord who comes like a thief! But He is a good thief: He does not steal— He gives.
He enters quietly, overturns our plans, and brings with Him true wealth: the encounter with Him.
The Lord comes at night, in times of weariness and doubt.
He comes in silence, but only those who keep watch notice Him. Keeping watch does not mean not sleeping: it means living awake, with an attentive heart, with eyes capable of perceiving God’s presence in daily life. Those who keep watch do not let hope die, even when everything seems dark.
Brothers and sisters, Advent is not only the waiting for a future event: it is the discovery that God is already at work, that He knocks at our door every day. It is the time to notice that God is near, that He speaks to us through people, encounters, silence, and even wounds.
So, at the beginning of this Advent, let us allow ourselves to be challenged by three verbs:
Wake up. Build. Love.
Wake up from the numbness of routine.
Build, like Noah, an inner ark: a space for prayer, for listening, for hope.
Love: because only love gives eternal value to small things.
Peace and good from the Holy Land.
