There’s a delightful little book called Children’s Letters to God
that I pick up every once-in-a-while for a lift or a smile. One of the
letters came to mind when I reflected on the scripture readings for this
First Sunday of Advent. It’s from a young girl named Harriet who, I
guess you could say, is long on urgency if a bit short on grammar. Her
letter goes like this: “Dear God, are you real? Some people don’t not
believe it. If you are, you’d better do something quick!”
Children may not have a well-developed sense of
the passage of time, but Harriet was very clear that time was running
out!
Today’s scriptures are as impatient as
Harriet’s letter. We’ve been waiting too long, they seem to say to
God. “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down with the
mountains quaking before you! Return, O Lord. For the sake of your
servants rouse your power and come to save us. Do not delay!”
Each year, the Church gives us readings like
these for Advent to focus our attention on the coming of Christ. But
what exactly does the coming of Christ mean? It means three things.
The meaning that probably first comes to mind
this time of year is Christmas, the coming of God into our world in the
flesh and blood of Jesus. Even though that event took place two
millennia ago, we remember and relive it year after year at Christmas
Mass, and around the Christmas tree, and at the family table. There will
be a lot more to say about Christmas in the days ahead, so in these few
moments, I’m going to focus on the other two comings of Christ: his
Second Coming at the end of time, and then, his coming into our lives,
our world, right now.
First, his Second Coming. It’s what Jesus talks
about in today’s gospel when he tells us to be alert - constantly on the
watch - because we do not know when the time will come. So, I ask you:
are you constantly on the watch for Christ’s coming? Are you even
hoping for it? Do you feel any urgency about it? For most of us, the
Second Coming of Christ is off our radar. Unlike the early
Christians who expected it to come any day, the passage of long
centuries has made such thoughts unlikely for us – even though at every
Mass we pray “with joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus
Christ.” And often in the Eucharistic acclamation we proclaim the Lord’s
death until he comes again. Both are clear echoes of the very last words
of the New Testament, “Come, Lord Jesus,” - the frequent, fervent prayer
of the early Church.
And there’s more. There’s the Lord’s Prayer.
Every time we pray the words, “thy kingdom come,” we are expressing the
hope that God’s reign, God’s rule, will take over - that rule which
began to be realized in the preaching and ministry of Jesus, but which
will only be fully realized when he comes again in glory.
But “thy kingdom come” also speaks of this
time, our time, and that brings us to the third of Christ’s comings.
But, we might ask, just what is this kingdom we pray for? Well, as we
were reminded last Sunday, it is no conventional kingdom. There are no
crowns, courts, or castles - only people, people longing for God,
longing for justice - neglected people, hurting people, people on the
outer margins, the people Jesus spent his time with as he redefined the
meaning of kingship. He was a king, yes, but a servant-king whose throne
would be crib and cross. And his rule would not be about power and its
prerogatives, only about justice and peace, healing and wholeness. So,
every time he healed a sick person or made the blind see, the deaf hear,
the lame walk; every time he awakened the poor to their unique value, or
forgave a broken sinner, Jesus was making the kingdom of God come a
little closer.
And, my friends, the kingdom continues to come
closer in our time through you and me who are the Church. It comes as we
do what Jesus did. He gave hope to the poor and downtrodden, and so must
we; he preached a gospel of peace, and so must we; he healed the sick,
and so must we. We may not have the healing power of Jesus but we have
our love to give, our time, our presence, our compassion. We take up
where Jesus left off. That’s how we make the kingdom come.
So, we have our work cut out for us, don’t we!
And building the kingdom doesn’t stop with our one-on-one relationships,
important as they are. God’s rule must be global as well as personal.
So, take a look at the present state of our world, the present chaotic
state of our world. Do you see much that resembles the kind of kingdom
Jesus came to preach? Look at Ukraine, Israel, Gaza, Iran, North
Korea; look at our desperately divided nation; look at the callous lack
of respect for each and every human life; look at the homeless people on
our streets; look at racial hatred, at the abuse and exploitation of
women; look at the plundering of our fragile planet. Any way you look at
it, God’s kingdom is light years away from being realized!
And so, my friends, we must keep praying, “thy
kingdom come.” But it won’t do to pray it like young Harriet did (“You’d
better do something quick, God!”) because that’s way too passive. It
puts all the onus on God and that’s not the way it works. Jesus has made
us a part of the answer to our own prayer. We have a role to play in
making the kingdom come. And that makes “thy kingdom come” not only a
very urgent prayer but an agenda, a very demanding and urgent agenda for
each of us.
It’s not only God, but we, who had
“better do something quick!”
Father Michael G. Ryan
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