17th December

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, dear friends, we are now in the final days before Christmas, and the Church slows us down. Advent becomes quieter and more focused. Today, 17 December, the readings ask us to look back so that we can recognise what is about to arrive.

Our first reading comes from the Book of Genesis. Jacob is near the end of his life. He gathers his sons and speaks over them, not with comfort, but with truth. When he speaks to Judah, he points to leadership and hope. The sceptre shall not leave Judah. From this family, from this line, something lasting will come. In the Jewish tradition, this blessing was heard as a promise of the Messiah.

What is striking is that Judah was far from perfect. He failed his family. He made poor choices. Yet God works through him. The Bible is honest about this. God does not wait for clean stories or ideal people. He works with what is real. That is good news for us. It is good news for families carrying regret, for communities tired of broken promises, for a country like Zimbabwe where many feel let down by leaders and systems. God does not abandon history. He stays with it.

The psalm today is a prayer for a king, but it tells us what true leadership looks like. The king is asked to judge fairly, to defend the poor, to protect the weak, and to bring peace. This is not about power. It is about responsibility. In God’s eyes, leadership is measured by how the poorest are treated. When we pray this psalm, we are also praying about our own lives. In our homes, our workplaces, our parishes, we are given small forms of power. The question is how we use them.

The Gospel is from Matthew. It is a genealogy, a long list of names. It can sound flat when it is read, but it carries great weight. Matthew is telling the whole story of Israel in brief. Each name carries success and failure, faith and fear. Abraham trusted. David fell. Exile shattered hope. Yet God did not stop working.

Matthew also names women who would normally be left out. Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, Bathsheba. Some were foreigners. Some were wounded. Some lived on the edges of respectability. Matthew makes a clear point. Jesus comes from complicated people. God enters the world through lives that are mixed and fragile. No one is written off.

This is where Advent becomes very close to us. Jesus does not arrive outside history. He arrives through it. Through families, through struggle, through long waiting. In the Spiritual Exercises, Ignatius asks us to notice where God is already at work in our own story. This Gospel invites us to do the same. Our lives may not look impressive, but they are part of the place where God chooses to act.

For young people wondering if their future has room to grow, for parents trying to hold a household together, for those searching for work or fairness in Zimbabwe today, this Gospel says your life is not overlooked. Your name matters. God knows where he is coming from, and he knows where he is going.

Advent is not about rushing ahead to Christmas. It is about remembering that God has been faithful before and will be faithful again. Christ comes as a king, but not like the kings of the past. He comes to serve, to heal, and to carry the weight of his people.

So as we move closer to Christmas, the question is simple and serious. Will we make room for him, not just in prayer, but in how we treat others, especially the weakest?

I invite you to sit with these questions during the week ahead.

• Where in my own story, with all its faults and gifts, might God be quietly at work?
• Who are the people whose names I forget or avoid, but whom God remembers?
• What small, real change can I make this week to prepare a place for Christ in my daily life?