FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT
Fr Paolo Consoni, MCCJ
Many years ago my old parents came to visit me from Europe. I was truly concerned because they could not speak English. Back then, there were not even cellphones to rely upon to handle transfers and delays . The day of their arrival I reached the airport very early, and stood straight and tall scanning the face of each person exiting the arrivals gate: eyes wide open; silent and in full alert… until I finally spotted them, overwhelmed with joy. I learned a lot about Advent’s waiting from this small experience.
The Gospel passage of this first Sunday of Advent appears to be very apocalyptic: “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves …” The alarming media news about the climate crisis and the current global unrest only reinforces the conclusion that the Gospel is warning us that an impending doom is around the corner if we don’t change course.
Change we must, according to the guidelines given by Pope Francis in the Encyclical Letters “Laudato Si” and “Fratelli Tutti”. Yet we also need to accept the fact that our personal lives and the natural/historical processes are all marked by an intrinsic sense of finitude. Even scientists agree that the sun, galaxies and ultimately the universe are not forever.
Advent, however, is not only a time to reflect about an impending “day of doom.” The Church describes the end of the world as the “Parousia,” a Greek word translated in Latin with “Adventus,” both meaning “arrival,” pointing specifically to the Second Coming of Christ. In other words, what awaits all the people of good will is not an end, but an encounter: a joyful, loving, liberating encounter: “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Our commitment in the service of society and of our fellow humans, limited as it is, anticipates the redeeming, cosmic embrace of Christ at the end of time.
Christian waiting is characterized by hope and requires attention, the same attitudes I had in the airport: “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly like a trap”. For us postmodern people who are living in a permanent state of distraction, constantly multitasking and browsing our devices with scattered minds, the faculty of attention is rapidly deteriorating. Someone wrote that “attention is really another word for love,” because only when we pay attention do we take the attention off ourselves and we become less self-centered, less self-fixated. Any true encounter – and any genuine act of love – needs this movement from the self to the other. It’s the only worthy way to live, to work, to build relationships.
Silent prayer is the privileged place where one can recover the attentiveness and the wholeness of mind which alone can grant us clarity in facing both our challenging present and our uncertain future, both at individual and collective levels. In prayer we may joyfully realize that Advent is above all welcoming Jesus who, in myriads of ways, is already visiting us, here and now, if we pay enough attention to the signs of His coming. And He will do it every day, till the end of time.
(Image by 愚木混株 Cdd20 from Pixabay)
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