1st week of Advent, Year A – Mark Winward
When I was a teenager, my very first job was painting picket fences in an ancient cemetery with the remains of those who had gone on to glory almost 400 years ago. During my breaks, I became fascinated by epitaphs—those final words etched into stone to summarize a life. A common 17th century epitaph ominously warned:
“Stranger, pause as you pass by; as you are now, so once was I. As I am now, soon you will be; prepare to die and follow me.”
Not all epitaphs are that dour. In Ribbesford, England, one reads:
“The children of Israel wanted bread, and the Lord sent them manna; old clerk Wallace wanted a wife, and the Devil sent him Anna.”
On a more serious note, one doctor buried in our cemetery left behind these inspiring words:
“If you could see where I have stepped, you would wonder why you wept.”
But one of the most striking of all is found in rural Louisiana. A woman lies buried beneath a 150-year-old live oak tree, and in keeping with her instructions, only a single word is carved into her headstone:
“Waiting.”
That one word summarizes the theme that binds today’s readings—waiting to meet the Lord.
As we enter the season of Advent in preparation for Christmas, our lectionary readings continue this theme. While we prepare to celebrate the first coming of Christ, the texts intentionally blur with those that look toward his second coming. I recognize that talk of the “end of the world” doesn’t necessarily sit comfortably on modern ears. Most people today have a hard time believing in any literal, future encounter with God in history. Yet scientists tell us that an end will come—the question is how.
But we don’t have to venture into cosmology to face the reality of an end to all things. Two facts are hard to deny: humanity has hardly “arrived”—our problems seem more complex than ever—and humanity cannot survive forever. Whether through war, disease, natural disaster, or simply the eventual expiration of our universe, something will eventually bring history to an end. But if you believe the universe is more than an accident, then logically it must have been brought into being by someone or something Intelligent. And wouldn’t such an Intelligence, most likely, be invested in the flourishing of other intelligent life?
If that Intelligence has an interest in humanity – and we know history has an expiration date – is it reasonable to believe that things will simply continue indefinitely as they are? Scripture responds with the story of God breaking into human history, not simply so humanity might survive, but so we might flourish and be in relationship with Him. Now if, as Christians believe, a loving God has broken into history through the person of Jesus Christ, isn’t it reasonable to expect that he will do so again before the end? That is exactly what we affirm in our eucharistic liturgy when we proclaim: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” This is the central Christian hope: that God loves us to the point of death, that Christ is triumphant over the grave, and that He will come again to complete the work He began.
I used to be very concerned with the details of Christ’s return—when, how, and under what conditions—until I met a wise young Russian Orthodox woman on a college tour tracing the trail of the Church Fathers. At the time, her veneration of icons and dedication to the saints seemed strange to me, yet I could not ignore the depth and serenity of her faith. One day I asked her: “What do the Orthodox believe about Jesus coming again? Will he literally return? Is the time soon?” She paused thoughtfully and replied, “I’m not really sure. What I do know is that I need to have my life right with God and be ready to meet Jesus.” Her answer stunned me. Suddenly I realized that how Jesus comes is, in many ways, academic. What matters is: one way or another, one day he will come for each of us.
Yet many in this world live under “the illusion of invincibility.” Perhaps people believe in God, they know their lives will one day end, but they assume that meeting with God is so far in the future that they can live their lives however they wish. Young people often especially feel this sense of invulnerability, which is why risky behavior can seem natural to youth. The fact is simple: life as we know it will come to an end, whether through death or at Christ’s return. The real question is: How will He find us? Living unprepared under the illusion of invulnerability – or living as his disciple, preparing in this world to meet Him in the next?
While some people fail to prepare at all, others prepare so much for the next world that they neglect their responsibilities to this one – so focused on heaven that they are of no earthly good. In the extreme, this mindset is used to ignore injustice, neglect the poor, or abuse the environment under the assumption that Jesus will return soon and fix it all. Balanced discipleship requires both immediate readiness and long-term responsibility. The Christian writer Michael Wilkins expresses it well: “Live as though Jesus is coming back today; plan as though he is not coming back for a hundred years.”
What the “end of days” means for each of us comes down to our relationship with Christ. Advent is a special time to prepare our hearts to meet Jesus. Over the next four weeks, consider setting aside ten minutes each day to make room for Christ—not by adding something, but by removing something that normally fills your attention. If you know him, love him, and genuinely desire to see him face-to-face, then the end of our days becomes not an ending, but a beginning—the fulfillment of our deepest hope for ourselves and for this tired old world. And when that day comes—whether at the end of history or the end of our earthly life—may He find us as that woman beneath the old oak tree chose to be remembered: waiting.