Three times in the Gospel passage to be read on the 3rd Sunday of Advent this year, two more times in the Gospel according to Luke, and three times in the Acts of the Apostles, the second book of the New Testament attributed to Luke, that question would be asked.  The frequency with which it is asked underlines the great importance that Luke attaches to the question: what shall we do?

 

       To be human is not the same as to be omniscient.  Therefore, to be human is to have and to ask questions.  No matter how intelligent we are, no matter how knowledgeable we are, there are always things we do not know.  Whoever says he/she knows everything is living in a world of pretension.  Such a person is pretending to be God.

 

       During the season of Advent, the face of John the Baptist is presented in the Gospel as one who began his preaching ministry calling the attention of the people to the need for an urgent and radical change of lifestyle in preparation for the coming of the Messiah.  He warned them not to rely on a false sense of security by believing it was sufficient to be called children of Abraham.  Nothing less than a change of lifestyle could save them. And the crowds, hearing the words of John the Baptist asked him: “What shall we do?”  Then the tax collectors asked the same question, and after them came the soldiers with the same question: “What shall we do?”

 

       Later, in the Gospel according to Luke, a lawyer would put the same question to Jesus: “Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Lk 10:25).  Then, for the fifth time in the Gospel according to Luke, that question was again put to Jesus, this time by a wealthy Aristocrat: “Good Master,” he said “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?”

 

       In the Acts of the Apostles, after Peter finished preaching on the day of Pentecost, the people were cut to the heart and they asked Peter and the other apostles: “What shall we do, brothers?” (Acts 2:37) 

 

A second time, in the Acts of the Apostles, Paul and Silas had been jailed in Philippi for preaching the Christian message.  And in the middle of the night, as they were praying and singing God’s praises, suddenly there was an earthquake, the doors of the prison flew open and the chains fell from the prisoners.  When the prison Superintendent woke up and saw the doors of the prison opened, he wanted to commit suicide thinking all the prisoners had escaped.  But Paul shouted at the top of his voice: “Do yourself no harm; we are all here.”  Then the prison Superintendent threw himself at the feet of Paul and Silas trembling, and he asked them that same question: “Sirs, what shall I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:30).

 

       The third time we find that question in the Acts of the Apostles was when Paul addressed the Jews of Jerusalem telling them of the story of his own conversion on the way to Damascus.  When he fell to the ground and heard the Lord ask him: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?...I am Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting.”  Paul spoke up asking that same question: “What must I do Lord?”

 

 

With the probable exception of one of these eight instances when that question was asked, all were instances when someone or a group of people became conscious of the need for change in their lives.  And that is indicative of the significance of the question in the two New Testament writings of Luke.

 

       “What shall I do?” or “What must I do?” 

 

To ask that question and to mean every word of it is to have become conscious of the fact that one is not living in the best possible world.  The crowds in the Gospel according to Luke, and after them, the tax collectors, the soldiers, the lawyer and the rich Aristocrat who asked Jesus the same question, the crowds who heard Peter’s preaching on the day of Pentecost, Paul, at the time of his conversion, and the prison Superintendent at the jail in which Paul and Silas were locked up: These were people who became aware of the need for change in their lifestyles.  And that consciousness can only come when we allow the word of God to speak to us, to our hearts of hearts, to our innermost being.  It is a consciousness that comes when we allow the word of God to soften our hearts and to cut through them.  Those who asked John the Baptist that question had been deeply touched by the word of God.  The word of God had made an impact on their lives.

 

       If within me, arrogance and ignorance co‑exist in a mutually enriching relationship, then it becomes impossible to ask that question. It becomes impossible to transcend my bias.  I may be walking about, thinking I am free.  But I am really in chains.  I am chained down by ignorance, ignorance of the fact that I am not living in the best possible world.  And I am imprisoned in ignorance, a hyper‑inflation of my ego.  I can only be free when I allow the word of God read to me at every Mass, and which, hopefully, I read in private meditation, to break those chains of ignorance and to demolish those walls of arrogance.

 

       To those who asked John the Baptist: “What must we do?”, John answered by telling them to avoid greed, oppression and exploitation.  The problem is there are many Christians who are neither greedy nor oppressive nor exploitative, but tend to look away when others are victims of greed, violent oppression and exploitation. 

 

It is therefore imperative that as we listen attentively to the word of God, we must also be keenly interested in the situation in which that word is read and heard. Those who allow the word of God to speak to them in their situation cannot tolerate the status quo. They cannot but be inspired to bring about positive and far-reaching changes in the world in which they live.  Advent is a time to keep this in mind.