A Homily for the First Sunday in Advent
Now it is high time to awake out of sleep . . .
The night is far spent, the day is at hand.
—Romans 13:11–12
What is the matter with us Christians? Why are we the only ones who have not gotten the word? The world is decking its halls with red and green, white and gold; and yet our hall is decked in somber purple. In the world outside caroling can be heard everywhere, in supermarkets and shopping malls, on the radio, in elevators, even as telephone hold music; and yet in here we have left off singing even Gloria in Excelsis, and instead we have intoned the Litany. The world is focused on tinsel and eggnog and presents; we are focused instead on the four last things: death, judgment, hell, and heaven.
The world is bright and merry because it knows Christmas is coming, and the world prepares for the coming of Christmas with parties and merrymaking and shopping, shopping, shopping. But here we know that Christ is coming, and we prepare for the coming of Christ with penitence and fasting. We Christians are a contrary lot.
And we may well ask ourselves why we, as the Church, defer our joyous celebration, why we, as the Church, engage in solemn reflection while the world around us has already begun its celebration. We may even ask why it seems so wrong to us to have a Christmas tree in the narthex—even for the best of causes. What is Advent all about, anyway?
Advent
is our wake-up call. We have been
sleeping, and Advent is our ecclesiastical alarm clock. “Wake! Awake, for night is flying. The watchmen on the heights are crying: ‘Awake,
From time to time we recall here those “parables of the kingdom,” in which Jesus tells us what the kingdom of heaven is like. There is recorded in the Gospel according to Saint Matthew this parable:
Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish and five were wise. The foolish ones, when taking their lamps, brought no oil with them, but the wise brought flasks of oil with their lamps. Since the bridegroom was long delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep. At midnight, there was a cry, 'Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!' Then all those virgins got up and trimmed their lamps. The foolish ones said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.' But the wise ones replied, 'No, for there may not be enough for us and you. Go instead to the merchants and buy some for yourselves.' While they went off to buy it, the bridegroom came and those who were ready went into the wedding feast with him. Then the door was locked. Afterwards the other virgins came and said, 'Lord, Lord, open the door for us!' But he said in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.'
Most of Jesus’s parables do not have a “moral,” because the story makes the point. But after telling this particular parable of the kingdom Jesus adds this warning: “Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”
“He comes. Prepare, ye virgins wise. Rise up, with willing feet, go forth, the Bridegroom meet. Bear through the night your well-trimmed light. Speed forth to join the marriage rite.”
How many of us have let our spiritual oil run low? How many of us have seen our lamps sputter and go out? How many of us have grown weary of waiting, and have drifted off to sleep? How many have simply forgotten what we are waiting for?
Advent
is our wake-up call. Advent is the
watchman crying from the high places, “Awake,
“The day is at hand: lets us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.” A recurring theme in Scripture is that God is light, and that those who believe in God are the children of light. In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, darkness was upon the face of the deep, and God said, “Let there be light!” And there was light, and God said that it was good. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God. . . . In him was life, and that life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not.”
Likewise,
Saint Peter wrote: “You are a chosen
generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people; that you
should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous
light.” And
“Hark! A thrilling voice is sounding. ‘Christ is nigh,’ it seems to say, ‘Cast away the works of darkness, O ye children of the day.’”
And
what must we do to cast away the works of darkness? Saint Paul told the Romans (and he tells
us): “Let us walk honestly, as in the
day: not in rioting and drunkenness, not
in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on the Lord
Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh to fulfill the lusts
thereof.” And
Our Lord himself said: “God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God.”
The
Gospel lesson this morning reminds us that Jesus came to
Let us then, today and throughout this Advent season, pray for God’s grace, that we may cast away the works of darkness and put on us the armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, that in the last day, when Jesus comes in his glorious majesty, we may rise to the life immortal.
“The king shall come when morning dawns, and light and beauty brings.
“’Hail, Christ the Lord!’ Thy people pray: ‘Come quickly, King of Kings!”
02
December 2007