- by Fr. Robin Koning S.J. .-

Why should United Church ministers have all the fun? I've decided to join a union, too. The Jesuits Engaged in Studies Union - J E S U - the JESU. I have two major grievances. Firstly, I want a parking space - for my bicycle. I cycled here one night last week, and arrived just as the last bicycle parking stand was being taken by two parishioners. Though I was present in the summer when they were married and we were told that the two had become one flesh, they still seem to need two bicycles. When I told them Father needed a parking space, they laughed, and they said they're part of the Body of Christ, too. I'm not sure where they got that theology from - it sounds like Pat-walk theology to me. Secondly, I want my fair share of easy readings for preaching on - when Jesus is nice and friendly and heals people and blesses children and talks to the animals and puts his garbage in the correct bins. Of course, I'm happy to pull my weight. But he who has all authority over the preaching roster seems to arrange his holidays and visits home suspiciously often around the more difficult readings.

Anyway, forming a union is my way of saying that I want things to change. That desire for things to change is part of what Advent seeks to awaken in us - our desire for our lives, and the life of our world, to more closely approximate God's desires. When we begin the calendar year on January 1st, or the academic year in September, our desire for change can express itself in a frenetic round of activity, getting everything organised for a fresh start; or at least drawing up of good intentions as to what I'm going to do differently this time round. It's about my actions, my intentions. Our new church year, starting today, begins on a very different note. It begins, not with action, but with attentive listening. It begins with waiting, recognising that real change begins not with my actions or intentions, but with waiting on God - God's action, God's intention, God's plan. To specify that further, we ask each Sunday of Advent, What are we waiting for?

The answer the readings give us this week puts that question in its broadest context - for they all refer to the end times, the time of the Lord's coming again, to the Second Coming of Christ. That is ultimately what we are waiting for. That is the event towards which all of history is moving - the coming of Christ to bring everything to completion. But the readings seem to present something of a mixed picture of what that will be like. In the first reading, the day of the Lord, as Scripture calls it, is pictured in inviting terms - all the nations gathering together to God pictured in the Jerusalem temple; everyone being taught to walk in God's ways (Is 2:2-3); all our fighting and bickering and warring transformed as swords are hammered into ploughshares and spears into sickles, and all training for war ceases (Is 2:4). A time for walking in the light of the Lord (Is 2:5). This inviting vision of the day of the Lord is picked up in the Psalm, where people joyfully gather to God, praying for each other's good and praying a blessing of peace on one another (Ps 121). So, too, Paul tells the Romans that the end time will be a time of salvation: "our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted." (Rom 13:11)

But then, we get a different angle on this day of the Lord. Its coming is a challenge to put away the things of the dark - the drunken orgies, promiscuity, licentiousness, wrangling, jealousy and appeasing of bodily cravings that Paul goes on to mention (Rom 13:13-14). And the Lord is to come suddenly, sneaking up on us when we least expect it, so that, of two men in the fields, one will be taken into glory, one left; of two women grinding together, one will be taken, one left; of two priests celebrating Mass together, one will be taken, one left - and we can be sure which one Fr Pat will schedule to be left behind. The Son of Man will come like a thief in the night, at an unexpected hour [Mt 24:20-44].

Promise and threat; salvation and judgment; invitation and rejection; hope and fear - these strands seem to be interwoven into these texts about the second coming of Christ. For that coming is presented as the coming of Christ as Saviour and of Christ as Judge. So we can fall into a trap of thinking we’ve been lulled into a false sense of security, that we’ve been duped by a cosmic good cop/bad cop routine. It goes something like this. In the time before Christ, God roughs us up a bit with floods and plagues and wars and disasters and exiles. Then he sends in his Son who comes to us healing and teaching and feeding and caring and sharing, even lets us beat him up. But this is all a show to soften us up, because in the end, even this supposedly good cop shows his true colours, shows that he was really part of the same team all along, out to get us from the very beginning. He wanted to make us trust him and trust his love so that, in the end, he could beat us over the head with a massive whammy on that day when he comes like a thief in the night, and when, of two people in the field, one will be taken and one left.

We can really believe that at some level. But it is not the truth. For Jesus Christ is the same, yesterday, today, forever [Heb 13:8]. The talk about coming like a thief in the night is a metaphor, and as a metaphor, there are ways in which it applies to the reality of the Second Coming and ways in which it doesn't. Jesus will come like a thief in the night in that the timing of his coming is not capable of human calculation, no more than we could have calculated what would be that "fulness of time" when God would send his Son, "born of a woman" [Gal 4.4]. But Jesus' coming will be very different from that of a thief, in ways that Jesus spells out when talking about himself as the Good Shepherd: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it to the full.” [Jn 10.10].

That they may have life and have it to the full – that was aim of the Son of God from the beginning, when all creation was given life through him, in whom there was life [John 1:3-4]. That they may have life and have it to the full – that was his aim when he came among us, Word made flesh [John 10:10]. That they may have life and have it to the full – that was his aim when he gave himself into our hands to be crucified, giving his flesh for the life of the world [John 6:51]. That they may have life and have it to the full - that was his aim in being raised up so that we, having died with him, might share the risen life of him who is the resurrection and the life [John 11:25-26; Rom 6:4-5]. And, because Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, his aim when he comes at the end of time will be exactly the same - that they may have life and have it to the full.

From the side of Christ, who is the Life, the offer is always life, in all its fulness. But different people will experience that offer in different ways, depending on whether they've been attuned to that life or not, whether they've been open to the life Christ offers or have refused it. Insofar as I have lived refusing Christ's offer of life, shut off from the light, I will experience Christ's offer of life at His coming as threat and condemnation, as a blinding light more clearly defining the shadows in which I have lived. Insofar as I have lived welcoming Christ's offer of life, living in the light, I will experience Christ's offer of life at His coming as promise, as salvation, as a warm light flowing through my transparency to Christ, intensifying the light in which I have already been living. It is not as though there is one way of behaving, one set of attitudes, which enables me to live a full life in the here and now, and then a competing way of behaving, a competing set of attitudes, which will prepare me to meet Christ when he comes again. It's the same behaviours, the same attitudes. If I am not ready to meet Jesus face to face today, then to that extent I’m not living my life, here and now, to the full.

For example, if I am carrying guilt for something of which I’ve not repented, it is not just that I will have to make account of this when Jesus comes again. That guilt is stopping me from really living my life here and now. I remain trapped in my secrets, caught in my shame, blocked from living life to the full. The Advent invitation is to hear more clearly - to hear more clearly my own cry for liberation from the burden of sin and to hear more clearly God's promise of the joy of forgiveness and the freedom which comes from moving out of the dark and walking in the light of the Lord [Is. 2.5]. Likewise, if I am burdened by resentment toward some person or some group or institution, it is not just that this will all be revealed when Jesus comes again. That unforgiveness is stopping me from really living my life here and now. My heart is hardened against love, blocked from living life to the full. The Advent invitation is to hear more clearly - to hear more clearly my heart's cry to become a heart of flesh once more, a heart capable of love, and to hear more clearly God's promise to transform my swords into ploughshares, my spears into pruning hooks - to transform the weapons of my resentment into instruments for cultivation, for cultivating peace.

Christ gives us every opportunity to be "ready to greet him when he comes again" [Eucharistic Prayer III]. Far from waiting in ambush, he always stands at the door, knocking. "If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me.” (Rev 3.20) Let's welcome him today, welcome his Word through our ears, His body into our bodies. Then, when He comes again, we may welcome him, not as stranger or a thief, but as an intimate and very welcome guest, with whom we are accustomed to dine. And in the meantime, we may be free, as He wants us to be, to "wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ" [Common of the Mass].

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