Holy Cross Monastery, West Park, NY
Br. Robert James Magliula OHC
The First Sunday of Advent, Year B, December 3, 2023
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Every year on this First Sunday in Advent, the beginning of the Church year, we hear a gospel about endings.
“In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” (Mark 13:24).
Jesus and his disciples have just left the temple, the center of Jewish life and identity. One of the disciples, impressed by the temple, remarked, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” “Not one stone,” Jesus says to him, “will be left here upon another; all will be thrown down” (Mk. 13:1-2). He’s not predicting the future or giving us signs to look for so that we can predict the future. He’s describing a present reality. He is telling them that the story of their life and identity will be changed and replaced with another. He’s describing what it feels like when there’s been a ending in our life---when the stars by which we once navigated no longer point the way, when the powers on which we depended are no longer dependable. If you have ever experienced significant change in your life, whether desired or dreaded, you know about Advent. You know what it is like to enter the darkness of change.
All change brings an end, some kind of loss of what is comfortable, familiar, safe. Jesus is telling them, and us, that one will need to let go of their old view of life, the world, themselves, and even of God. Every beginning starts with an ending. There’s more to our lives and our world than a single beginning and ending. So today’s gospel is about “an” end and not “the” end. Beginnings and endings are two sides of the same event, possible moments of growth and transformation.
Our entry into the Season of Advent sounds ominous and it is, because it is not just a liturgical season. It’s a reality of life, including the life and world in which the Son of Man comes. The lectionary holds this before us because endings are what we face and live with. They come at various points in life, not just the weeks before Christmas. Naming such times in our life is our entrance into Advent. Our Advent preparation for the coming of Christ invites us to look at the ways our endings have shaped and defined our life, how they have narrowed our view of God, the world, others, and ourselves. We need to ask ourselves whether we are willing to accept the necessary endings so that His coming is the beginning of our new life. This takes time. Maybe this year we can create more space than we did last year, be more trusting of the darkness and the necessary endings. What we do on this First Sunday of Advent, will, in large part, set the tone and context for how we will experience the coming of Christ throughout the rest of this year.
Instead of being concerned with where God is and what God is doing, we ought to first be concerned about where we are and what we are doing. Instead of starting with what’s going on in the world around us, we ought to begin with what’s going on within us. More often than not we do not see other people and the world as they are, but as we are. When we are tense and anxious, we’ll want to run away. When we are living in the past, we’ll miss this present moment. When we are frightened, other people can easily become threats and enemies. When our life is full of problems, we’ll be quick to judge others. When we are filled with guilt, we’ll look for someone to blame. These are not the circumstances around us; they are spiritual conditions within us.
In those threshold moments when our world is shaken we mostly want someone to fix it and make it like it used to be. We echo the prophet Isaiah’s cry, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down” (Is. 64:1 ). The God of Advent does not redo our life but redeems it. Advent confronts us with a necessary ending that makes space for a new beginning.
Advent times are liminal times of waiting, times of transition. Advent invites us to receive the God who comes to us in the darkness. If we run from our darkness, we run from God. Darkness is not our enemy. If we allow them, the dark places of life can draw us deeper into the divine mystery by reminding us that we are not in charge, that we do not know everything, or see all possibilities. Advent challenges us to let go of our ways of knowing, and to question our ways of seeing. Too often we use the darkness to deceive ourselves into believing there is nothing worth waiting or watching for. So we close our eyes and become part of the darkness, refusing to see the One who is always coming to us. We fall asleep whenever fear controls our life, when hope gives way to despair, when busyness is equated with goodness, when entitlement replaces thanksgiving, when we choose what is comfortable rather than life-giving. If we are not aware of these things they will overtake us. Jesus says become aware and alert to what is going on. If we do not tend to what is going on inside of us we will project it outside of us.
In the darkness of Advent we listen more than we speak, we hold questions rather than answers. We wait expectantly but without specific expectations. Waiting in darkness is an act of faithfulness and surrender to the Coming One. Waiting becomes our prayer, a prayer that is and will be answered by God’s presence.
The entire Season of Advent echoes with challenge, assurance, and promise. A new awareness within ourselves changes the way we see with a clarity and objectivity we did not have before. We become connected to that original goodness and beauty that resides in each of us, that has always been there; maybe forgotten, but never lost. We are always waking up to the truth, so we can reconnect to the beauty of life, the mystery of love, the wonder of creation. We awaken to hope, alert to the presence of God in unexpected places and surprising ways.
Time does not separate and define our beginnings and endings. It is Christ who joins and unites them. So every beginning finds its fullness in an ending and every ending is the context for a new beginning. All happens in Christ, the one who called himself the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. +Amen.
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