Fr. Rick Spicer

Waiting isn’t something we care to do, especially when our routines are disrupted as they were with lengthy power outages in recent weeks. As the hours ticked by, many of us found our patience being taxed, wondering why it was taking so long for the lights to come back on. That’s quite human, if you ask me. Saint Teresa of Avila is said to have once complained, “Lord, I want patience and I want it now!”

Waiting is defined as resting in expectation of something or someone.  For hours we expected the power to be back on. Naturally, the sooner the better, thank you, so that we could get on with whatever we were doing. But what did we do in the mean time?

Waiting can be done either passively or actively. Pacing the floor, staring out the window, sitting still, twiddling one’s thumbs are ways some of us wait passively.  As the expression goes, we “kill time,” essentially doing nothing and when there is nothing to do, time seems to pass so slowly.

Waiting actively on the other hand means finding something to keep us busy until the anticipated moment arrives.  Many of us actively wait for the next ferry by reading a book; others do so by writing a letter or using a laptop.  Without any TV during the blackout, did you read by candlelight?

Waiting actively is what advent is about, so what are we waiting for? Ask any child and you are likely to hear, “Christmas!” We tend to think of Advent primarily as a season of waiting for the first coming of Christ at his birth, but keep in mind, there are other comings of Christ…as the risen Christ at Easter, in our sacramental encounters such as the Eucharist, in our prayer life, at the moment of death, and as the readings point out, at the end of human history in what is called the parousia or the second coming.

Once again, we are hearing apocalyptic language, which isn’t to be taken literally, but the advice we are given is very much worth heeding. Jesus said, “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.”

This is what the early Christian community twenty years after the death of Jesus was anxiously waiting for when Paul wrote his letter to the Thessalonians. The early Christians honestly believed that Jesus would return within their lifetimes but with the passing of time, they did not live to see this. By the time Luke had written his gospel, Jesus still had not returned in the manner they had anticipated.

Instead of witnessing the parousia as they had hoped, they encountered the second coming of Christ at the hour of their death.  Those who waited in the manner urged by Paul, conducting their lives to please God saw Jesus as “the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.” They had no reason to fear because their redemption, as Jesus pointed out, was at hand.

The bottom line is this: wait actively by conducting yourselves in a manner pleasing to God and you will find yourself someday standing before Jesus Christ, face to face. That could possibly be when his second coming takes place but in all likelihood, as was the case for faithful Christians in the past, this encounter will happen at the hour of our death.

So how might we wait actively for his coming? If you recall, a few weeks ago, I urged you to consider your stewardship of time.  Each week, God blesses us with 168 hours, so how do you spend them aside from eating and sleeping?  Are you giving at least two hours of your time back to God in the manner of prayer and service? If not, I again urge you to do so, especially in this season of waiting. Participating at Mass as you are doing now counts for one hour.  Other ways in which you could spend time with God include personal prayer, praying with your family, reading the Bible, studying the catechism, daily Mass, and Eucharistic adoration.  The Word Among Us, in addition to articles for spiritual reading, offers reflections on the readings at daily Mass.

One woman with good insight likened the season of Advent to being pregnant. She wrote, “Waiting is an impractical time in our thoughts, good for nothing, but mysteriously necessary to all that is coming. As in a pregnancy, nothing of value comes into being without a period of quiet incubation. Not a healthy baby, not a loving relationship, not a reconciliation, a work of art, and never a transformation. Rather a shortened period of incubation rings forth what is not whole or strong or even alive.”

On this first Sunday of Advent, we are reminded that we can spend all our time waiting and doing nothing, or we can wait actively, doing our Father’s business. As Jesus cautions, this is how we will be judged when he comes again. If we want to have a healthy, loving relationship with Jesus, like Mary, we need to sit quietly in prayer and let the Spirit do what it will. Do this and you will stand tall before the Son of Man.

For a sequel to Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll wrote Through the Looking Glass. One verse of his unusual poetry comes to mind as I think of today’s feast.

 

    “The time has come,” the walrus said,

        “To talk of many things:

    Of shoes –and ships –and sealing wax

        Of cabbages –and kings,

    And why the sea is boiling hot

        And whether pigs have wings.”

 

Perhaps some day the sea will be boiling hot or genetic engineering may create pigs with wings but those topics aren’t relevant to us here and now. Rather, the time has come for us to talk about kings, namely a certain king, the one who calls himself the alpha and the omega, “the one who is, and who was and who is to come, the almighty.”

 

Pope Pius XI instituted the Feast of Christ the King in 1925 when Europe was in real political upheaval; a time of disillusionment was sweeping the continent after WWI that led to fascism in Italy, Nazism in Germany and communism in Russia.  The Holy Father’s motive was to remind us that Jesus Christ is our ultimate leader, king of the kingdom of peace and justice. No other king will defeat the evil in our midst or succeed in bringing us lasting peace.

 

Admittedly, the idea of Jesus Christ as a king is too foreign for some of us to grasp. After all, we overthrew a monarchy in our quest for independence, opting for democracy instead. Our nation does not have a monarchy, per se, but it has struggled with presidents who have at times proven to be self-serving rather than serving.

 

While Mussolini, Hitler and Stalin are long gone, greed, egotism, and hunger for ultimate power are not.

 

So, what comes to mind when you think of kings? Henry VIII? Louis XVI? Macbeth? King Lear? David of the Old Testament? King Arthur and his round table? Old King Cole? Burger King? The King of Rock, Elvis Presley? Whatever comes to mind matters, for your notion of king influences your reaction to viewing Jesus as Christ the King.

The conversation Jesus has with Pilate in the gospel is perhaps one of the most significant ones in the Bible. Throughout the ages, Christians have used this to better understand how Jesus viewed himself.

 

Pilate kept searching for the truth by asking many questions. “Are you the king of the Jews?” Jesus evades the question with one of his own. In turn, Pilate finally asks, “What have you done?” Again, Jesus sidesteps the matter, “My kingdom does not belong to this world.”  “Ah, then you are a king?” Pilate asks. Jesus replies, “You say I am a king…”

 

Pilate questions Jesus, wondering if he is about to mount an insurrection against the Romans.  While he doesn’t deny that he is a king, Jesus explains that he is a king in a manner Pontius Pilate or any of his critics or other contemporaries cannot comprehend.

 

Repeatedly through the use of parables, Jesus speaks of the kingdom of God or the kingdom of heaven, telling us that the reign of God is like yeast…a mustard seed….leaven…a treasure hidden in a field.

 

For Jesus, kingship does not mean political power or clout, certainly not in the manner that any king in history has welded power. Yet we are still dealing with authority here.  Are we allowing Jesus to rule us, that is, be the foundation for our lives?

 

Jesus said to Pilate, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”  He is saying the same thing to us today. That, as we well know, cannot be said of earthly leaders.  If truth really matters to us, Jesus is the king we want in our lives.

 

Those who ignore the truth fail to see the harm of sin in our midst. They see God’s moral wisdom as being negotiable and arbitrary.  So long as they fail to see the truth of his teachings or refuse to heed them, however unpleasant that truth may be, they really can’t profess Jesus as their king. On the other hand, if they were to accept Jesus as their king, they could see the wisdom he offers us as the means to attain the peace and justice they yearn for.

 

To achieve the goal of bringing us into the kingdom of God, that is, salvation, Jesus conquered the three powers in our midst that have terrorized humanity from the very beginning: Satan, sin, and death.

 

The bottom line for all Christians is this: we are subjects of Christ our king to the extent that we acknowledge him as the lord of our lives. If we let God shape our free will then we are allowing Christ to rule over us. Until then, the real kings who assert influence in our lives are likely to be those whom Jesus came to conquer: Satan, sin and death.  I suggest that we think of Jesus as the king of hearts. Recognize him as the one to whom you ultimately belong. Allow him to be the foundation upon which you can build a better life for yourself. After all, he draws us into himself with nothing less than love. Can any other king make such a claim?

Reflecting on these readings, especially the gospel, I was reminded of a song written by Curly Putnam and made famous by country singers, including the late Johnny Cash.

 

The old home town looks the same, as I step down from the train, and there to meet me is my mama and my papa. Down the road I look, and there comes Mary, Hair of gold and lips like cherries. It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.

 

The old house is still standing, though the paint is cracked and dry, and there’s the old oak tree that I used to play on.

 

Down the lane I walk with my sweet Mary, Hair of gold and lips like cherries. It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.

 

Yes, they’ll all come to see me, Arms reaching, smiling sweetly. It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.

 

Then I awake and look around me, at the four gray walls that surround me, and I realize that I was only dreaming. For there’s a guard, and there’s a sad old padre, Arm in arm, we’ll walk at daybreak. Again, I’ll touch the green, green grass of home.

 

Yes, they’ll all come to see me in the shade of the old oak tree, as they lay me ’neath the green, green grass of home.

 

The unexpected ending of this song resonates with I hear Jesus talking about in this gospel. In effect he cautions us, “The hour will come when you will die, just as that man did. No one knows when that hour will be except my Father, but it will come.” Unlike the convict, whose time is up, we are being given a second chance at life here and now.

 

When my mother died, I read a book entitled On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, a doctor who worked extensively with terminally ill patients. Commenting on the reflections of their own lives as they awaited death, she writes, “They saw in the final analysis that only two things mattered: the service you rendered to others and love. All those things we think are important, like fame, money, prestige, and power are insignificant.”

 

Dr. Kubler-Ross’ conclusion tallies perfectly with what Jesus taught in his lifetime, a message he tells us that will never pass away. Just four weeks ago, we heard him say, “…the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve.”  Can we say the same about ourselves? Have we come to serve?

 

Using what is called apocalyptic language, Jesus is urging his followers to be ready for the moment when life as we know it comes to an end. Some of us will be given ample notice with the diagnosis of a terminal illness as my friend, Kay Keyes, was when she became ill months ago with cancer. Others will have no warning like those whose lives end abruptly in a tragic accident or on a battle field in distant Iraq yet ideally when the moment comes, we will be ready.

 

Imagine the moment being for you right now. How satisfied would you be with the quality of your record of service and love? Unlike the convict in Curly Putnam’s song, we have another chance, beginning today, so what shall we do?

 

Dare we follow the example of the psalmist who sings, “I set the Lord ever before me; with him at my right hand I shall not be disturbed.” He does so, knowing that God will not abandon him. “You will show me the path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights of your right hand forever.” Clearly, he was not afraid to place God first in his life!  Are we?

 

In a nutshell, when Jesus arrives to greet us personally, he will want to know what we have done with our lives and with the many gifts we have received.  The only thing that really matters, as many a dying person has testified, will be the service and love we have given to God and neighbor. While we cannot undo the shortcomings of the past, we can ask ourselves, “How we better live the rest of our lives?”

 

We can easily put off answering that question just as we often tend to put off contemplating our own mortality, but that is a question we had better answer before it is too late.

 

Stewardship provides us with the tools for living that better life, namely, a life of total accountability and responsibility, acknowledging God as creator and owner of all. As stewards, we should see ourselves as caretakers of God’s gifts.  Stewardship pleases God because the good steward is careful of creation, is respectful of justice and charity, and is prayerful at all times.

 

Our offering of time, talent, and treasure is a statement that we belong to God.  It is an act of faith, an act of trust, an act of worship, and an act of belonging.  It is living out our commitment as disciples of Jesus to be Christ-centered rather than self-centered. If we value our eternal happiness, we will heed the warning in this gospel and put our books in order, making peace with God and our neighbors.

 

The prophet, Micah, provides us with a good summary for living this life, “This is what Yahweh asks of you; only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and walk humbly with your God.” Do this and you shall shine brightly like the stars forever.

Several years ago I saw a picture of a veteran’s tombstone that caught my attention. He died in action in Vietnam on my 18th birthday.  A young man, not much older than I, sacrificed his life that day so that I could continue to celebrate mine.

 

This weekend countless flags flutter in cemeteries across our country in remembrance of the many men and women who served our nation in time of war and peace. Some died on duty and many were wounded but they all had one thing in common; they sacrificed something so that we could have the freedom to gather here and celebrate the ultimate sacrifice, namely, what Jesus did for us on the cross.

 

Sacrifice is the message in these readings as well. First, we encounter a widow with a child, giving what little wheat and oil she has to Elijah. She expected to die soon but instead she is rewarded for trusting that God would provide for her needs. Then there is the widow who dropped two coins, all that she had, into the temple collection. That wasn’t much, but her generosity, according to Jesus, surpassed that of the Pharisees.  She committed herself to God’s mercy in quietly with total giving of herself.

 

Just as many of our citizens fail to appreciate the meaning behind Veterans’ Day, many Christians don’t fully appreciate the value of sacrifice either or what it means to our faith.  In all walks of life, there are those who are committed to what they believe in and those who are not. Look through the gospel and you will find scenarios where Jesus had little regard for those who were lukewarm in their convictions. He cautioned his followers that entering his kingdom required full-hearted conversion to a new way of life. Stewardship is one way to show how full hearted we are with our faith.

 

Jesus wants us to turn our lives up side down, to have a complete change of heart. This is vital for understanding the value of stewardship in our lives and on our faith.

 

Last week, we heard about David from Enumclaw, a sailor on leave. Remember him? Much to the surprise of his friends, he placed all that he had won at a horserace in the collection basket. When asked why he did that, he said that it made him feel good.  He had a point there. Happiness goes hand in hand with being passionate. 

When you want to be happy, “Give it all you’ve got.” In his book, Who Moved My Cheese?, Spencer Johnson observes that when we are clear about what we want to see happen and pursue that goal with passion, it will happen. Being half-hearted denies us the opportunity to experience the good that God promises us for our efforts. That was what I recall David telling us.

 

As a way of life, stewardship challenges us to examine how well do we share what God has given us; our treasures, our time, and our talents with the parish and with those in need.

 

Last week, I asked you to make a conscious commitment of at least two hours a week to prayer and service, beginning with participating at weekly Mass. If we are going to be passionate about our faith, that would be a good starting point. God gives us 168 hours each week. Is it asking too much to give two hours of that time back to God?  Many of us do that and more by reading scripture, praying alone and with others, helping out as a volunteer in the community or in our parish.  On the green trimmed card you received in the mail you can find other ideas that may better fit your needs.

 

If you have made a commitment to stewardship of time, you have done the hard part as time means so much to us. Stewardship of treasure should be easy. 

 

Nonetheless, talking about money isn’t an easy thing to do. I know some families are hard pressed to give because, like the widow, they are often stretched to the limit by their bills and debts.

 

But I also believe that something amazing happens when we recognize that we owe God a share of what we have because God gives it all, then calls us to share. When we give the first portion of what we have back to God, things start to change. I have heard of people who have tithed their way out of debt. They set aside the first ten percent for God and the rest fell into place.

 

I am not asking you to tithe but I am asking you to recognize that God gives it all and then decide what you are willing to give back by supporting your parish. For some, that will be five percent, for others, more, for others, less. That is between you and God, but by filling out a tan card and letting me know of your commitment, you enable us to form a more realistic budget for our parish and your giving would then be planned, deliberate, conscious and sacrificial.

 

As you make your decision, looking over the chart on the tan card, think of the widow in today’s gospel. Instead of following the example of the Pharisees, who gave their loose change, consider making a gift that hurts.  Use the chart to discern what percent you gave last year and see if you can increase your giving by another percent or more.  Keep in mind that you are not bound by the pledge you make. If your circumstances change, so too can your pledge.

 

Notice also on the card, a provision for simplified giving. If you are interested in electronic funds transfer from either your checking or savings account, check the box. We will explore that option with our bank and get in touch with you when we have made the arrangements. 

“Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God is lord alone!” Is he? Is that our prayer? Is God the one lord in our lives or have we forgotten him, replacing him with many other gods that preoccupy us and demand our attention? If God is a stranger to us, then we have to admit that there are other gods in our lives taking up our time, gods like sports, our jobs, television, or hobbies to name a few. With so much to do and only 24 hours in the day, making time for God can become a distant priority for some of us.

 

When that happens, how sincere then is our love for God? It is easy to say that we love God but you probably know from your personal experiences that empty words don’t generate love. Love isn’t a sentiment; it is an action. Love is what love does. Wouldn’t those words sound hollow to you if someone kept saying, “I love you,” without any evidence to show it?

 

How then is this evidence that we love God best rendered? The simplest answer I ever heard was once provided by Gale Sayers, a player for the Chicago Bears decades ago when he said, “God is first, you are second, and I am third.”

 

At the start of any given day, upon awakening, how much thought do we give to God? The ancient Israelites began and ended their day with the prayer we heard in the gospel. For them, nothing was more important than remembering God. The same should be true for us. Out of the 168 hours in the week, how much do you give to God? Can you commit yourself to giving two hours of your time in prayer and service, beginning with coming to Mass every week? Is what you place in the collection basket loose change from your pocket or does that offering to the parish reflect a true gift from your heart? When you think of all that God has blessed you with, is God really asking too much of you?

 

As we venture through the day, what influences our choices the most? Are we concerned about others in our midst or just ourselves? I think of the times I am intent on getting something done or getting from here to there, oblivious to what is happening around me. In those moments, I am denying myself the chance to be in touch with God.

 

God wants so very much to be a part of our lives, not to be apart from us but to be part of us but that cannot happen unless we actively seek to remember God throughout the day.  No sacrament, not even baptism or eucharist, can bring us to God unless we choose to make space and time in our lives for God. The step doesn’t come easy but then no sacrifice does. If we strive to make God first in our daily lives, then we will discover how God has made us first in his.

 

Stewardship is a way of life designed for us to put into practice our love for God. On the surface many people think of stewardship as a gimmick the parish uses for its support. There is more to stewardship than what goes into the collection basket. I truly believe that stewardship can make a difference in a person’s life and that is what I have invited Dave to share with us today.