When my wife Suzanne and I first became Catholic over 30 years ago, every year in late November I was surprised to come to Mass one Sunday and find that it was not an ordinary Sunday, but the great feast that we celebrated last week: the Solemnity of Christ the King, marking the end of one church year and of course opening the door to a new church year the next Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent, which we celebrate today. Even after I had been Catholic for several years, I felt like that one feast day, Christ the King, snuck up on me every year, and I wasn’t prepared for it.
Of course this never happens with Easter or Christmas! We have weeks to prepare for them: for Easter, six weeks of Lent; for Christmas, between three and four weeks of Advent. But Christ the King seemed to me to come out of nowhere: You’re just going along in Ordinary Time, green green green, and bam: There’s gold and white and the church year is over, seemingly without warning.
Kind of like how Jesus in today’s Gospel describes the day of judgment catching people by surprise—like a trap, he says. Maybe some of us are surprised today, coming to Mass on the First Sunday of Advent (perhaps already humming “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel”) … only to hear this alarming Gospel about signs in the heavens, nations in dismay, people dying of fright. This is how we begin the Church year? With the same kind of apocalyptic warnings we were hearing from Jesus just two weeks ago?
So, yes: The readings change from year to year, but the theme of Christ coming in glory and judgment rings through these three Sundays: the last two Sundays of the old year and the first Sunday of the new. The beginning and the end are linked—as Jesus’ first and second comings are linked. The adorable baby whose arrival in the manger we’re preparing to celebrate three and a half weeks from now is one who is coming to judge the living and dead.
Coming when? You probably know the answer: No one knows when the day of judgment is coming. We heard that in the Gospel two weeks ago! Hasn’t stopped people from making all kinds of predictions for nearly 2,000 years—all of which have proved wrong. In the Gospels it sometimes sounds like judgment is right around the corner, coming soon. When you dig a little deeper, though, it turns out that judgment comes in many forms. The world ends many times before the final end.
Some of you might recall hearing in past homilies that many of Jesus’ apocalyptic sayings actually pointed ahead just forty years, to the horrific violence and destruction in A.D. 70, when the Romans destroyed Jerusalem and the holy Temple. That was the end of a world! The same is true of many historical turning points, both good and bad, from the fall of Rome to the abolition of slavery, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the end of apartheid in South Africa. In our own lives, pivotal moments good and bad may also be the end of a world: the death of a loved one, even a pet; graduating from high school or college; a grown child leaving home to live on their own; a divorce or a family estrangement. Ultimately judgment comes for us all in our own mortality; the world ends for each of us on the day of our death.
Times of testing or trial may be stressful, but we aren’t meant to live in fear or anxiety. This is the first of three practical things Jesus in today’s Gospel says about facing judgment. Even when you see things getting really bad, Jesus tells his followers, stand up straight and lift your heads. Freedom is coming.
That doesn’t mean there’s no cause for concern! This is the second thing: Jesus mentions a lot of alarming things, though the one he really warns against is what he calls “drowsiness” of heart: that is, spiritual dullness or distraction potentially linked to too much eating and drinking and pleasure, but also to the “anxieties of daily life.” Whether we’re preoccupied with work and responsibilities and real-world concerns or with things we enjoy, if we’re distracted from what ultimately matters, the day of judgment may catch us by surprise, like a trap.
How do we fight off spiritual drowsiness and stay alert? This is the third thing Jesus tells us: we must at all times be vigilant and pray. Prayer is crucial. Pope Francis, on this Sunday three years ago, proclaimed:
The secret to being vigilant is prayer.… Prayer is what keeps the lamp of the heart lit. This is especially true when we feel that our enthusiasm has cooled down. Prayer re-lights it, because it brings us back to God, to the center of things. Prayer reawakens the soul from sleep and focuses it on what matters, on the purpose of existence.
Now, we all know this isn’t the first homily you’ve heard where the homilist said “You need to pray”! But we all need to be reminded more often than we need to hear new things! And this what Advent is: a new beginning, a time to turn the page and start anew. To reexamine our lives, to make our hearts hospitable to welcome the baby Jesus. To go to confession, renew our commitment, stay awake.
What does Jesus want to do in your heart, in my heart, in the next three and a half weeks? Welcome to Advent.
Beautiful homily! Fr. Mike has a great one today also, with - no surprise - many of the same ideas.
Superb as always. The priests at my church usually tell us a week or so in advance about Christ the King Sunday, so I'm usually not surprised.
I love that picture you posted with your homily. It's very similar to possibly the most mind-blowing piece of art I have ever seen, The Divine Comedy's Empyrean by Gustave Dore (one of my favorite artists). That is definitely something to look forward to seeing in Heaven. For those who haven't seen it, feast your eyes on this: https://linesandmarks.com/wp-content/uploads/guistav-dore-heaven.jpg
P.S. I am not an expert on religious art or art in general, but I know a little.