(The “instructions” for this homily state: “Sit down after reading the Gospel and silently recite three “Our Fathers” before returning to the ambo and beginning today’s homily!)
Ok … the question is: how did you feel while waiting for the homily to begin? Yes, I made you wait before beginning today’s homily. It really wasn’t that long. It was the length of time for me to pray the Our Father three times: about a minute, about the length of time for a single commercial on television. (If there is such a thing as a single commercial on television!)
So, how did you feel? Were you puzzled? You knew, of course, that someone was scheduled to give the homily. But who was it? Or were you anxious? Did you say to yourself: Has someone goofed? Or were you annoyed? Did you mutter to yourself … or the person next to you: Why can’t they get on with it? Time’s going by and I have a lot to do? Or were you accepting of the situation? Did you make use of the relative peace and quiet to let the words of the gospel sink in?
As you realize, today marks the beginning of the Advent season for the new liturgical year. We speak of Advent as being a time of waiting – waiting for Christmas and the celebration of the birth of the Christ-child. We also realize that Advent is the time to remind us that what we should really be waiting for is the Return of the Risen Christ, the Second Coming of our Lord. And so, at the outset of this period of liturgical waiting, I wanted you to experience the condition of waiting, even if it lasted for less than sixty seconds. I wanted you to see how you are personally attuned to either active waiting – or passive waiting.
Few of us enjoy “passive” waiting. It makes many of us “up tight.” It’s probably a result of our American culture and our training. We are trained to be “active” waiters: to do something, anything, while we are waiting. Waiting, after all, is that interval of transition between the present and the future; from the certainty of the present to the uncertainty of the future.
The difficulty we have in waiting might be even harder today – when the present, itself, contains great economic uncertainty and we wait for improvements – or for even greater disasters in the days and months to come. There are even some who see, in our current crises, a view of the end-days of the world, itself. For some, this is a time for fear that great harm will come to us. For others, it is a time for courage that safety and salvation are on the horizon.
The feelings we experience today are no different than those of the Israelites in the time of Isaiah. The Israelites had just returned from the dark days of the Babylonian captivity to a Jerusalem where the Temple had been destroyed. They hoped that the Messiah would come in great power and might to destroy their enemies and restore the glory of Israel. They proclaimed, in the words of Isaiah we heard a few minutes ago: “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, with the mountains quaking before you, while you wrought awesome deeds … such as they had not heard of from of old.”
Yet others heard Isaiah’s concluding words: “… O Lord, you are our father; we are the clay, and you are the potter: we are the work of your hands.” They remembered that the loving Father, the creating potter, does not destroy what he has made; but rather shapes his creation into beautiful and useful vessels into which may be poured the gifts of water and wine. They are the ones who realize that the Lord, our father, does not bring about change through destruction but by the loving reworking of the clay. Yes, we realize that change is always present. We also realize that Advent is always present … that our Lord will come again.
In today’s Gospel we heard the words spoken by Jesus the Christ, who reminds us that the Master will, indeed, return, but no one will know the hour of his return. Today, on this first Sunday of Advent, we again hear his instruction: “Be watchful! Be alert! You do not know when the time will come.” He then goes on and gives his disciples further instructions. He tells them that they should be active waiters, and not passive ones. That when the master leaves his home “… he places his servants in charge, each with his own work …”
Jesus, it seems, realizes it is difficult to wait passively. Instead, we need to wait actively. The question then becomes: how should I wait actively? Most of our training for active waiting has been to use distractions to give the appearance of being in control. Each of us, it seems, wants to be in control of the situation of waiting, even though “waiting” is that time when we are not in control. Waiting is precisely the time when I am not able to control the outcome.
Just what are the usual distractions that accompany our waiting? What are the false controls we attempt to use in our lives? A major one for many of us is – noise. We get home from work and turn on the television, not to watch a program but to have background noise. We get home from work and turn on the television … not to watch a program but to have background noise. We get in the car and turn on the radio. We jog with an I-pod plugged into our ears. We wait in line at the grocery store, and we listen to someone else on our cell phone. We use noise as a distraction while we wait for “reality” to catch up with us.
We also use “virtual reality” as a distraction while we wait; although a better name for it might be “violence.” We watch newscasts and are fascinated with the destruction brought on by earthquakes, storms, crashes and crimes. We are amused by the antics of “James Bond” or of “World Wrestling Entertainment.” Our children pass the time with the distraction of video games and computer surfing.
Despite our current economic limits, some try to gain a false control through the distraction of consumerism. We are encouraged to buy the latest electronic gadgets: Blackberries for surfing the web as well as for taking photos. We are urged to replace our old-fashioned TV with an HDTV that will function after February 2009.
We tend to use all of these distractions (and others) to give us the appearance of being in control as our world goes spinning outward with ever increasing centrifugal force. Our secular world wants us to actively wait for the future with the distractions afforded by noise, violence and consumerism.
However, for Christians who recognize that our real future is the Advent of our Lord, the Return of the Master, there are other ways to wait actively for his Coming. In place of the distraction of noise, there is the silence in which we hear the voice of God and the whispered needs of others. In place of the distraction of violence, there is the tranquility found in the presence of God, in the presence of those we love, and who love us. In place of the distraction of consumerism, there is the simplicity of a lifestyle that allows us to share God’s gifts with others. In place of the distraction of doing busywork and being torn apart, there is the focusing and knitting together of our lives through reflection, meditation and contemplation.
Yes, Advent is a time of waiting, a time for active waiting, but an active waiting devoid of secular distractions. Advent is a time for preparation for the return of our Master. Advent is a time to recognize, once more, that as much as each of us wants to be in control, only the Lord, who is the potter of our clay-filled lives, is really in control. Advent allows us the time to be watchful; to be alert for the changes in our lives and the coming of our Lord. And most importantly, as we begin this Advent, we once again have the opportunity to realize that Advent is not just a season, not merely four weeks in the liturgical year – but rather Advent is our Way of Life.
First Sunday of Advent: November 29, 1999; revised: November 30,2008
Is 63:16b-17, 19b:64:2b-7; 1 Cor 1:3-9; Mk 13: 33-37