Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Matthew 24:37–44
It seems peculiar, perhaps, to think of death in the days leading up to Christmas. Isn't this the time for coziness and merriment, for joyful preparation, and nostalgic hymns, wrapping paper, ribbons, stockings, cookies, and an enjoyable sense of frenziedness? And yet, on this First Sunday of Advent, the Church urges us to reflect on the four last things: death, judgment, heaven, and hell.
The beauty and wonder of Advent, I believe, lie in the season's beautiful tension: joyfully remembering what has come—Jesus' first coming—and anticipating with hope the Advent of what is yet to be fulfilled—the promise of His second and final coming.
In this spirit of expectation, the Our Father takes on new meaning. Each Sunday that we pray with these words our Savior taught us, I am struck by this powerful petition: "thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven [emphasis added]." Part of our Christian duty in this lifetime is to accomplish God's will, so that the earth becomes more heaven-like, and God's kingdom is manifested in the here and now, not simply in some distant future we wait for passively. It comes about in the daily, grace-filled, extraordinarily ordinary work of loving the people before us, of engaging the world around us, of seeing and tending to broken hearts, of ministering to those in our midst.
It is these ordinary moments that Jesus directs our attention in Sunday's gospel, for it is in the middle of our daily routine that the Son of Man will come suddenly and unexpectedly. Thus, He describes people going about their daily lives. Some are ready for His coming, some are not: "Two men will be out in the field; one will be taken, and one will be left. Two women will be grinding at the mill; one will be taken, and one will be left" (Matthew 24:40–41). What I find particularly significant about this is that both were performing the same task, both appeared to be living the same life, but their hearts were in very different places. One heart was prepared. One was not. Which one are you?
For some of us planners, it may be comforting to try to predict what this judgment day will look like and when it will arrive. Yet doing so entirely obscures the message Christ is giving us. Furthermore, it is completely impossible to penetrate "a mystery kept secret by God … Instead of trying to predict the future, Jesus wants us to prepare for it. The former is a waste of time, the latter is an exercise of wisdom that every disciple should take to heart."[1]
The real question here is, are you willing to let Him find you, in the midst of your everyday life, with a heart that is ready? When we embrace Advent in this way—lifting our eyes to Him, seeking to make God's will be done on earth as it is in heaven, keeping the truth that we are not promised tomorrow in the forefront of our mind—our days begin to look different. Our work, joys, and even sufferings, indeed our entire livelihood, are gathered up and transformed into kingdom work. And in this, our hearts become a place ready to welcome the King.
Jesus concludes with a warning, "Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour of night when the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and not let his house be broken into. So too, you also must be prepared" (Matthew 24:43–44).
Let us prepare then and keep watch, that we might behold the Lamb of God who died and rose again, that we might receive our King. May we remain vigilant and alert, refusing to become weary or indifferent to the call of the gospel. Let these days of Advent ready us for the moment when, God willing, we will meet Him face to face and dwell with Him in paradise.
Food for thought and journaling …
This Advent, what do you need to do to let Jesus find you awake and prepared in the midst of your ordinary life?
Son of God, I praise You, I bless You, and I adore You. Awake, my soul, make straight my paths, take away my sin, and prepare my heart to make room for You.
[1] Curtis Mitch and Edward Sri, The Gospel of Matthew: Catholic Commentary on Sacred Scripture, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2010), 315.
