The Good News Proclaimed to the Poor
- Bicolmail Web Admin
- 11 hours ago
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By Julma M. Narvadez
On this Gaudete Sunday, we rejoice in the midst of Advent. Today’s readings shine with the light of steadfast hope, reminding us that joy is not the absence of struggle, but the presence of God drawing near.
Isaiah speaks of blooming deserts —a sign of life where none was expected. The Psalm exalts a God who lifts up the lowly and brings justice to the oppressed. James urges us to be patient, like farmers awaiting a good harvest. In the Gospel, Jesus reaffirms His ministry through signs of healing and through good news proclaimed to the poor.
A Question from Prison
John the Baptist, the fiery prophet who once proclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God,” now sits in prison. From that dark cell, surrounded by uncertainty, he sends his disciples to Jesus with a question: “Are you the one who is to come?”
Jesus responds not with abstract theology, but with visible signs: the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive the good news.
He does not say the poor are helped. He declares, “The poor have the good news proclaimed to them.” This is the heart of the Gospel – a message not just about the poor, but for the poor. It is a message directed to those on the margins. It is also a call to action.
We are called to be messengers of this good news where the poor are central, not as passive objects of pity, but as active participants in God’s Kingdom. To live out the joy of Gaudete Sunday is to become a living expression of Christ’s love, especially to the poor and marginalized.
Poverty has Many Forms
When we speak of poverty, we often think in economic terms. But the peripheries are not defined by geography alone—not just urban slums, coastal villages, or upland barrios. They include social and spiritual realities: the elderly forgotten in their own homes, young people entangled in vice and addiction, a sibling carrying deep emotional wounds, or a friend wrestling with spiritual emptiness. Exclusion and despair are among the painful faces of poverty.
The vision of a synodal Church calls us to “mainstream the marginalized.” Do families enrolled in 4Ps have a voice in local governance, or are they merely numbers expected to vote for political dynasties? Do persons with disabilities have real opportunities to cultivate their God-given gifts and contribute meaningfully to society? Are our Church councils inclusive, or do they unconsciously leave many parishioners behind?
Synodality invites us not simply to speak about the poor and marginalized, but to allow them to shape our common journey. This begins with attentiveness. We must look around. The peripheries are closer than we think —in our parishes, in our homes, and even in our hearts.
Pro-Poor must mean Pro-Justice
Seasonal gift-giving, relief operations, and community pantries are genuine acts of love for the poor. But we must go further. Pro-poor programs are not quick fixes—they must lead to social justice.
We must seek reform of unjust structures. We must advocate for fair wages, quality education and healthcare, environmental stewardship, and governance that upholds integrity and human dignity.
To bring the Good News to the poor, we must “comfort the afflicted” and “afflict the comfortable.” As Christians, we are called to liberate society from greed, corruption, and exploitation. This transformation takes time. As James writes, “See how the farmer waits patiently for the fruit of the earth.” Social justice requires faithful endurance.
Recognizing Our Own Poverty
As we seek to transform society, we must begin by recognizing our own poverty. We are all beggars before God’s mercy—each of us in need of grace, healing, and community. When we lose sight of our vulnerability, charity becomes condescending, and social justice hardens into cold ideology.
At the same time, we must recognize the poor as channels of God’s grace. When we engage them as fellow pilgrims, grounded in our shared humanity, we receive far more than we give. The dividing lines between “us” and “them” disappear. We see only us — all of us, beloved children of God, walking together toward the Kingdom.
The Joy that Transforms
Gaudete Sunday is the defiant joy of courageous witness. It is the joy of Mary who sang the Magnificat, the joy of Isaiah who saw deserts bloom, the joy of the poor who hear that God holds them in the palm of His hand.
The gentle flame of the rose candle we light today is a reminder that true joy is inseparable from justice and compassion. Let us rejoice and reach out, work and wait, proclaim and listen, for the Lord is near, and in Him, the poor— all of us —have reason to hope.
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