Possibly some of the most stirring words of the Hebrew Bible are found in today’s first reading. A voice has cried out—in the wilderness—to prepare the way of the Lord, to make smooth his path, to see the glory of the Lord revealed.

A voice has cried out in the wilderness.

Isaiah is very specific about what this wilderness looks like, and it’s not pretty: it is, in his words, a “wasteland.” There are deep valleys and craggy mountains, rugged land and rough country. And it is into this wilderness that the voice is announcing what is to come, that the Lord is on his way.

It’s a little unexpected, isn’t it? Perhaps it might have been more efficient for God to choose one of the middle east’s great cosmopolitan centers from which to make the announcement. But just as Bethlehem—the end result of this passage’s prophecy—is a surprising place for a Messiah to be born, so too is the wilderness a startling venue for sending a message. It’s not exactly where a modern marketer would launch a campaign.

A voice has cried out in the wilderness.

It is a singular truth and singular irony that prophets’ voices are rarely listened to by their contemporaries. In that sense, it’s not so far a leap to look elsewhere for a corollary to the wilderness of Judah that Isaiah describes—to look, in fact, inside ourselves. The voice that cries to make ready the way of the Lord isn’t just talking about preparing a people for the coming of Christ; it’s about preparing a person. Me. You.

The promise of Advent is inherent in these words. “Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated.” The tremendous gift of Christ himself, something unimaginable in human terms, is coming. The wilderness that is our lives, our problems, our mistakes, our anxieties, is transformed by the promise given by the voice crying out in that wilderness, crying out through the darkness of our sin. Something is coming… and a new age is about to begin.

Advent is that between-time, when we have heard the promise of Good News, but it has not yet arrived. We know it shall; every rock, every crag is singing with the promise. But… not yet.

The voice asks us to prepare, and that’s precisely what Advent entails. Not just the preparation of cleaning and decorating our homes, purchasing gifts, making special meals, but the hidden inner preparation of our hearts and minds and souls. What are you doing to make ready the way of the Lord? How can you make straight his path in your life, in your work, your family, your heart?

Advent is a time of joy, but it’s also a time of penitence. That’s something we don’t always remember, and this passage from Isaiah reminds us of it. We can be comforted in knowing that the Lord is coming, but we also often take it for granted. It happens every year, after all!

I wonder what Advent and Christmas would be like if we took seriously Isaiah’s admonition to prepare the way of the Lord in our hearts. Can we add any prayer time to our busy lives? Can we make almsgiving—charity—the primary gift that we give this season? Can we fast as we do in Lent so that we can slow down and be at one with a season of penitence and preparation?

A voice has cried out in the wilderness. Are we listening?

Jeannette de Beauvoir works in the digital department of Pauline Books & Media as marketing copywriter and editor. A graduate of Yale Divinity School, where she studied with Adian Kavanagh, OSB, she is particularly interested in liturgics and Church history.