Sunday, December 3, 2017

First Sunday of Advent, cycle B

Mark 13:33-37
One of the joys of my childhood, although it seemed a pain at the time, was the anticipation of Christmas. During those days, we referred to advent as a “little lent” and that of course called for sacrifice, which in those days meant giving up candy. I don't remember eating a lot of candy when I was young, and probably went weeks without it; I much preferred fresh fruit and jelly on bread. But when you give it up, you can't help but think about it every day. You'd get up in the morning and say to yourself, one less day till I can have candy again! And you would remind yourself that you were doing it as a Christmas present for the baby Jesus, and in your imagination you would think about how happy he would be. And you would get through another day of waiting. The anticipation of candy kept me alert and awake.
Jesus tells us to be alert, because we don't know when the time will come. Right before this passage we would have heard the beginning of Jesus' discourse – he tells us that no one knows the day or the hour, except the Father. What we are talking about of course, is the end of time, the return of the Son of Man, when everything will be made right, perfect justice will reign, and we'll have peace at last.
But lets face it, we can't be alert all the time. Even the apostles couldn't stay awake when Jesus suffered in the garden of gesthemene. And those wise and foolish virgins fell asleep waiting for the bridegroom.
That's why Jesus compares the situation to that of a household, a household where everyone is doing their work, and there is a watchman at the gate. We don't want to be found asleep, but we don't want to sit there at the gate all the time either. That is the point Isaiah makes – “would that you might meet us doing right”. In a way, each of us has to be a household, going about doing what we have to do, and at the same time anticipating that he might come at any moment.
Now Jesus is talking about the end of the age. But as we used to proclaim after the consecration, “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” The end of the age is not here, but the beginning of the end is; Jesus has risen and is already present to us in his word, in the eucharist, in situations where we gather together in his name, and indeed, through the events that happen to us every day, those times when Jesus speaks to us through his Holy Spirit. Now if you are like me, most of the time you are not conscious of his presence, or only vaguely conscious. That's because your mind is in the future, planning, worrying, often about things that have very little chance of happening. Or your mind is in the past, daydreaming, dredging up old hurts, playing the “what might have been” game. And yet the presence of Jesus, the presence of the Father, the presence of the Spirit, is only in the present. And being more in the present moment needs to be our goal.
One writer said that there are many ways to live in the present moment. His favorite method is the cultivation and practice of gratitude. When he wakes up in the morning, he calls to mind some specific thing for which he is grateful – like being able to see when he opens his eyes. He savors that, and gives thanks. Every time he sits down to eat, he is grateful that he has food, that it tastes good, that it is pleasant to eat. And he gives thanks and savors the food as a gift. All through the day, he pauses and gives thanks – for the work he is doing, for the friend he meets, even for something like a physical pain or a small injury, to remind him that he is mortal, or that he is given the privilege of sharing a tiny bit in Jesus' crucifixion. And when the day is over, he is grateful for the relief of sleep, the comfort of his bed. And the writer goes on to say that if you go through life practicing gratitude, you find more and more to be grateful for, and you discover that in every experience there is something for which to thank god.
You can see that there are other ways to live in the moment. You might, for example, wake up ij the morning knowing that somewhere today god will speak to you in some moment, through some person, or in some event. Your job is to stop every now and then and ask if that's happened yet? Or you might deliberately set out to notice beauty – beautiful music, beautiful nature, something beautiful – and be present to it, because wherever there is beauty, god is close. And there are some who use acts of charity to keep themselves awake. If you work for food for the soul, for example, you are seeing Christ in those people you serve, as well as in those people with whom you work.
And of course you can resort to the classic practices that help us live in the present – regular prayer, daily meditation; regular spiritual reading.
On this First Sunday of Advent we are also reminded of the church's contribution to keeping us awake – the liturgical year. Every year the church walks us through the events of Christ's life, death and resurrection. Our liturgical year is not like the fiscal year or the calendar year or the academic year, where most days are like each other and really commemorate nothing much. And it is good for us to try to live in the liturgical year more deeply.
So today Jesus tells us to be awake, and that takes work. I am going to resolve to take on a practice that will help me stay awake, that will keep me focused on the present, because that's where I must be when Christ comes again – doing what I am supposed to do, but ready at all times to throw open the doors to his presence. And I hope you all will begin this new liturgical year the same way.