First Sunday of Advent - What Difference Does Christ Make?

Today's first reading offers us the promise of the future Messiah. When he comes, "Judah shall be safe and Jerusalem shall dwell secure." All the promises of the future Messiah point to a time of peace, prosperity, justice, and love. As Catholics we believe that Jesus is that long awaited Messiah, and yet we do not see peace, prosperity, or justice. Instead, we find the same wars, poverty, and injustice that ruled the earth prior to and during the time of Jesus. We are left asking, in the words of an old TV commercial: "Where's the love, man?"

The words of Jesus in today's Gospel reading provide us with no answers to our problem. Here again, Jesus paints a gloomy picture of the end times, and yet the description of those times could very well describe just about any historical time period. What is unique about these calamities and signs when we see such things everyday? How can we possibly distinguish the end times from any other time?

When he was a priest in Munster, Germany, Pope Benedict XVI preached a series of sermons on the Advent season to university students there. One of his reflections is relevant to our present meditiation: "What really torments us today, what bothers us much more is the inefficacy of Christianity: after two thousand years of Christian history, we can see nothing that might be a new reality in the world; rather, we find it sunk in the same old horrors, the same despair, and the same hopes as ever. And in our own lives, too, we inevitably experience time and again how Christian reality is powerless against all the other forces that influence us and make demands on us. And if, after our labor and efforts to live on the basis of what is Christian, we draw up the final balance sheet, then often enough the feeling comes over us that the reality has been taken away from us, dissolved, and all that remains in the end is just an appeal to the feeble light of our good will" (What it Means to be Christian, Ignatius, 2006).

The answer lies in the person of Jesus himself. The Messianic promise is fulfilled in the person of Jesus, who found peace in the midst of depravity and violence. The teachings of Jesus were complemented by the example of Jesus, who showed us through his life how to live in the world. It is in imitating Jesus and abandoning ourselves entirely to God that the Messianic promise comes true in our own lives. The promises of the Messianic prophecies and the description of the end times are simultaneous messages that we must appropriate in our own lives and in our own times. That promise is for us now, not just back then, and the warnings about the end times are for us now and not just back then.

Today's second reading brings to light what should be the attitude of the Christian who lives in expectation: "May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we have for you, so as to strengthen our hearts, to be blameless in holiness before our God and Father at the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ...as you received from us how you should conduct yourselves to please God - you do so even more."

Let our prayer for this Advent be that of St. Ambrose: "Of what use is it to me, who am mindful of my sins, if you come, O Lord, and yet do not come into my soul and into my spirit; if you, O Christ, do not live in me, nor speak within me? It is to me that you must come, for me that your coming advent must become a reality. Your second coming, O Lord, will take place at the end of the world; then we shall be able to say: For me the world has been crucified and I for the world. O see to it, Lord, that the end of the world finds me occupied with heaven. Then, wisdom, virtue, and justice, and the redemption will all become truly present for me. O Christ, you indeed died but once for the sins of your people, but with the purpose of ransoming them every day from their sins" (St. Ambrose, Commentary on the Gospel of Luke, 10: 7-8).

Are You a King?

We arrive at the culmination of the liturgical year with the celebration of the Feast of Christ the King. Many people might question the purpse of this feast, since kings aren't rulers of nations any longer. How can modern people understand the meaning of the title if we do not have kings any longer. However, the readings for the day present us with a complete picture of what the Church means in ascribing this title to Jesus, a title that can be understood in any time and place.

The first reading from Daniel is an expectation of a future Messiah. Daniel is writing to a community of Jews oppressed by foreign kings, and they find themselves in this situation due to the unfaithfulness of Israel's kings. Daniel sets his sights on a future king who possesses ultimate power, whose rule is not just for Jews but for all people, and whose rule shall never end. This hope is that of the entire people of Israel in Daniel's time, a desire that grows over the years until the coming of Jesus, in whom Christians see as the fulfillment of this hope.

In the second reading from the book of Revelation, we encounter a description similar to that in Daniel. The author deliberately makes this connection for his audience, who are experiencing the trials of the Roman persecution. The Roman Empire claimed to have ultimate power, universal rule over all peoples, and boasted that their rule would never end. This passage from Revelation is a direct challenge to the claims of the empire and a profession of faith in Jesus, in whom we find our hope and strength against the powers of the world.

The Venerable Bede, the early Church father, points out that in rejecting the earthly kingdom and establishing the kingdom of God on earth as a foretaste of the kingdom to come, Jesus anoints the subjects of his kingdom as priests who must offer themselves as a sacrifice for others just as Christ did for us: "Since the King of Kings and the celestial Priest united us to his own body by offering himself up for us, there is no one of the saints who is spiritually deprived of the office of the priesthood, since everyone is a member of the eternal Priest" (Bede, Explanation of the Apocalypse, 1.6).

The kingship of Christ is something Pilate cannot possibly comprehend, as we see in today's Gospel. The kingdom of Jesus does not belong to this world, it is not about fighting military wars with earthly rulers. Instead, the kingship of Christ is one of truth, and the subjects of Jesus' kingdom are those who belong to the truth. The kingdom of Jesus will indeed face violence and opposition from worldly kingdoms because they are built upon falsehood. The kingdsoms of the world in every age claim to save us from war, poverty, and the like, but those claims are always and everywhere lies designed to enslave human beings. Again, it is only Jesus who can bring salvation and truth to our lives: that is the fundamental message of this feast day. We await the fulness of Jesus' kingdom that exists on earth as a promise of the one for which we pray: thy kingdom come!

Jesus proclaims his kingship right before mounting the cross, the throne from which he reigns. If we wish to be his subjects, we must be crucified as well. Let us close our meditation with a reflection from a famous theologian of the 20th century who offered this thought and prayer for this feast day thus: "We must bear witness to this truth by what we sacrifice and what we venture. We must want to be witnesses to Christ and subjects of his kingdom, and have the courage to accept abasement. Right and truth are not necessarily what seems noble and glorious, what the world will accept and heartily applaud. No, the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not comprehended it. In us too there is darkness. That shrinking from the light is part of our own heart, and so Jesus the man of sorrows stands before us and says to us: 'Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.' Without making pronouncements about the Church and her power, without thinking of the Church in terms of party politics, could we not make room in our hearts and say: Disperse the darkness of my heart and allow your truth - which is humility, faithfulness, hoping against hope, blessed truth - to be in me, so that your power may triumph by drawing everything to you, as you hang there, lifted up upon the cross, even my poor heart" (Karl Rahner S.J., Biblical Homilies, "There Stands Truth", Feast of Christ the King 1958).

The Great Parousia

As we approach the end of the liturgical year, the Church provides us with readings designed to have us consider a topic we would rather not think about. The end of our lives and the end of the world are not cheerful topics, but they are both realities with which we have to face. The way a person approaches these realities determines their outlook on a great many things in life, as well as their final outcome in the life to come.

The first reading from Daniel and the Gospel reading from Mark present us with a stark picture of the end of time. Unsurpassed distress and great tribulations will define these times. We have to remember that these readings are a specific type of literature to ancient times known as apocalyptic. The purpose of writing apocalyptic was not to instill fear or even to determine the specific time of destruction. Rather, authors use this literary device to encourage their readers to remain faithful to the way of the Lord and to persevere during difficult times. Apocalyptic literature, then, was really a message of hope written for an audience experiencing great trial.

In the case of Daniel, the author of that work was encouraging the Jewish community experiencing persecution at the hand of pagan occupying forces in Israel at the time. Daniel is referring to those specific historical instances and uses them as a backdrop for a larger apocalyptic of cosmic proportions. Those who lead others to justice will be rewarded, while those who committed injustice will finally receive punishment for their crimes.

Similarly, the Gospel of Mark was written during the time of the Roman invasion of Judea. The holy city of Jerusalem was destroyed, and the great Temple was razed. This event caused great distress to the early Christian community which was still intimately tied to their Jewish roots. With such calamitous events occurring, the early Christian community to whom Mark was writing expected Jesus to come very soon. Mark employs apocalyptic to encourage his community in the midst of these trials.

The writers of the New Testament used the Greek word “parousia” to refer to the final coming of Jesus. This term was used to describe the solemn entry of the Emperor into a city or province. He would then be declared the savior of that territory. These triumphal arrivals were usually the occasion for feasting and the beginning of a new calendar. (cf. M. Schmaus, Dogmatic Theology, VII, p. 134) The New Testament writers, then, were making a direct challenge to the political establishment of their time: it is Jesus alone who can bring us victory and peace. Jesus alone is our savior and upon his return will we feast, but not before. We cannot accept a political leader as our savior or a political program as our gospel.

Intimately connected with awaiting the coming of Jesus was the full establishment of the kingdom of God, a kingdom that exists now on earth, but serves as a sign of the one that exists fully in heaven. There, Jesus waits as our high priest, as Paul notes in the second reading, since he has already forgiven our sins. As Pope Paul VI noted, “The kingdom of God, which had its beginnings here on earth in the Church of Christ, is not of this world, whose form is passing, and that its authentic development cannot be measured by the progress of civilization, of science, or of technology. The true growth of the kingdom of God consists in an ever-deepening knowledge of the unfathomable riches of Christ, in ever-stronger hope of eternal blessings, in an ever more fervent response to the love of God, and in an ever more generous acceptance of grace and holiness by men” (Pope Paul VI, Credo of the People of God, 27).

As we await with joy the coming of Jesus and the fulfillment of the kingdom of God, let our prayer be the joyful refrain from the responsorial psalm: “O Lord, my allotted portion and my cup, you it is who hold fast my lot. I set the Lord ever before me; with him at my right hand I shall not be disturbed….You will show me the path to life, fullness of joys in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever.”

The Royal Priesthood of Christ

"The Lord keeps faith forever,

secures justice for the oppressed,

gives food to the hungry.

The Lord sets captives free."

At first glance, the first reading and the Gospel reading for this Sunday do not reflect the sentiment expressed in the passage from the Responsorial Psalm that accompanies them. The first reading for today's Mass depicts a widow in Zeraphath who is suffering from the severe famine on the land. The woman has only enough materials to make one more meal for herself and her son. Once this food is exhausted, they will not have any other way of obtaining food, and thus they will die like many others did in the famine. Yet the prophet Elijah, a foreigner, comes to her asking for food. Is this not unjust? How could the prophet of God ask for food in the midst of famine, realizing she is a widow with a son and no means to support themselves? Nevertheless, the widow readily provides the prophet with food.

The same thought might occur to us as we read today's Gospel where Jesus praises the widow who gives all she has to the Temple treasury. Surely the Temple treasury has no need of such an insignificant amount. What is more, it is the Temple and the entire institution of Judaism that ought to be supporting the widow in her need. Jesus, in fact, condemns the entire system for their mistreatment of widows and orphans just before we encounter the widow in the Temple. How, then, can she be praised for her offering? Yet, the widow makes her humble offering without complaint.

The answer lies in our second reading for this Sunday. Paul continues to reflect upon the priesthood of Jesus Christ, an office to which every follower of Jesus enters at baptism. A priest is commissioned to offer sacrifice, adn the Christian priesthood imitates the priesthood of Christ, who offered himself for the entire human race. Our priesthood, then, is to offer ourselves for others as Jesus did. As Pope John Paul II reminds us in a sermon he gave on these readings, "Our humble offering may be insignificant in itself, like the oil of the widow of Zarapheth or the coins of the poor widow in the Temple. Yet our offering becomes pleasing in the eyes of God thanks to our union with Jesus" (John Paul II, Homily in Barcelona, November 7, 1982).

Everyday life provides us with endless opportunities to exercise our common priesthood of offering ourselves for others. I remember teaching religion to sixth graders at a Catholic school in Plano, TX years ago. Kids often invite many people to their home for the celebration of their birthday, expecting and receiving presents aplenty. One year there was a student in my class who was turning twelve and he invited every0ne in the class to his party. However, he placed a condition on all those who attended: Do not bring a present for me, but instead bring the amount you would have spent on a present for me and give it to our church's sister parish in Honduras. That one selfless act taught us all a great deal about our faith that year, for in that moment he exercised his royal priesthood and offered himself for others.

The point of the readings for today is to focus our attention on what is really important. There are a great many injustices in the world regardless of what time in history we may be living. No doubt we have an obligation to stand against injustice at every turn, but the Gospel is not meant to pit one class against another, one race against another, one gender against another. The heroes of our readings today are two women of different ethnicity and time period. They did not wallow in self pity or engage in class warfare. They remembered the needs of others before their own needs. These women loved their neighbor as themselves. They were participating in the priesthood of Christ and offered themselves for others.

May our lives imitate their lives and the life of Christ, and may our prayer ever be today's opening prayer: "Almighty Father, strong is your justice and great is your mercy. Protect us in the burdens and challenges of life. Shield our minds from the distortion of pride and enfold our desire with the beauty of truth. Help us to become more aware of your loving design so that we may more willingly give our lives in service to all."

Reinventing our Blog

Our Human Rights Blog will adopt a new outlook. Each week we will post a reflection for the upcoming Sunday readings in the liturgical year. By reflecting on the liturgical cycle instead of the news cycle, we can perhaps discern God's will more clearly as we experience these scripture readings in contrast to all that goes on around us in the world.