As you can readily see from the change in color from green to purple, we have with Advent entered into the beginning of a new liturgical season and year. Thanksgiving and Black Friday are now history. Staring at the calendar, we are aware that Christmas is less than a month away. Will we be ready when that day comes? Will the cards and packages have been sent in time? Will the shopping be done? Will all the decorations and tree be in place? Will the menu be planned and the pantry stocked? Will the travel itinerary be worked out? Undoubtedly, the deadline of Christmas can be a bit overwhelming for a fair number of us.
Today we begin our four-week pilgrimage to Bethlehem and the birth of Jesus. But today’s gospel is hardly filled with any Christmas cheer. Instead, Jesus warns us with terrifying images that the time we have left, which we so often take for granted, is precious and limited. This earth and everything about it will one day be no more. God gives us this lifetime in order that we might come to know God in the love of others and the goodness of this world in anticipation of the next.
There is one thing we all have in common. Someday we will take our last breath. You could say then and there, our time is up. There will be no turning back, no second chances, no re-takes. Life as we know it will be over. Done. Finished.
When that happens, you will find yourself standing before Jesus, face to face. The Jesus you received so many times in the bread and wine. The Jesus you professed to believe every Sunday. The Jesus you called on in countless panic-driven prayers. The Jesus whose very name—Christ—you took on in baptism. And now you stand before him.
Jesus holds no record book of your life, or scales of justice. There is no stern gaze, no summary judgment, no immediate
dispatch to the great abyss. In fact, Jesus says nothing.
There is nothing, in fact, to be said. Jesus knows you in the deepest recesses of your heart.
So what do you say? What do you do? Will that moment be filled with terror and trembling? Will you be overcome, as was Peter in the gospel, by the number of times you betrayed him in your anger, in your hatred, in your selfishness, in your obtuseness to those around you?
Will you shrink before Jesus, unable to stand before him because of what you did or failed to do? You might want to run and hide, just as you may have done in the past when you knew you were in trouble, but there will now be no place to go.
Instead of trying to flee, will you be able to muster up all the courage you have to humbly say to Jesus, “I did my best. Thank you.” And Jesus will say, “Yes, I know.” And then Jesus will welcome you like an old friend, probably with a big hug, into the eternal dwelling place of his Father.
In his gospel, Jesus urges his listeners, “raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.” He then gives a litany of sound advice, urging them, “Be vigilant at all times and pray that you have the strength to escape the tribulations that are imminent and to stand before the Son of Man.”
Perhaps you have noticed the banner’s message that this is a season of anticipation and hope. Rather than make us tremble, the prospect of one day standing before Jesus should fill us with hope: that the shoot of Jesse comes to redeem us and lead us through the darkest nights, the most perilous storms, the gravest calamities we will face in this life, figuratively and literally. These four weeks of Advent are a microcosm of the Advent that is the very essence of our lives as Christians: to be ready at all times to “stand before the Son of Man” through lives of love, mercy and justice.
Think of Advent as a maternal season. We are mindful of Mary being quite pregnant as we look forward to celebrating the birth of her son, Jesus, but our mission likewise in this season is to prepare ourselves to give birth to the Son of God. Meister Eckhart, a 13th century Dominican preacher, describes our mission bluntly: “What good is it to me if Mary gave birth to the Son of God 1400 years ago, and I did not give birth to the Son of God in my time and in my culture. We are all meant to be mothers of God.”
Meister Eckhart nails our advent mission on the head. We give birth to Jesus by nurturing his presence in our hearts through prayer, reading scripture, reconciliation and sharing with others how God is acting in our lives. If we stand firm in our Advent commitment to these things, we will with our Christmas joy, peace and compassion, give birth to the Son of God in our time and our culture. And if we give birth to him, then we can say to the Son of Man when that day comes that we have done our best.
We often think of Advent as a time of waiting but this season is more than that. God is calling on us to “awake from your slumber, arise from your sleep,” for a new day is dawning. God is calling us to a light for his people to set their hearts free. Instead of allowing our hearts to be drugged by worldly pleasures, we are being called to be vigilant; so that when we take our last breath and stand tall before his Son, God will find us to be holy and blameless in his sight.