Lk 21:25-28, 34-36
I once received a forwarded e-mail with caricatures of KID 3000—animated cartoons by Jim Benton. One shows a young boy carrying a backpack with legs stretching every now and then. The caption runs: In the year 3000, you won’t carry a backpack. It will carry you. Another one features a sick child lying in bed with a roll of bathroom tissue just beneath his nose and which automatically rolls and goes to the bin as fluids come out of his nose. The caption: In the year 3000, special devices will take care of your runny nose when you’re sick. Still another is of a sleeping child: eyes closed but held in an upright position as the machine takes care of the synchronized movements of his hands and feet. Its caption: In the future you’ll save time by having a robot make you exercise while you sleep.
The cartoons are both funny and weird. They bring home an obvious message: we want and look forward to a future that will make life a lot easier and faster. We do not want to sweat it out; machines can do it for us.
Unknowingly, we are allowing ourselves to be controlled by machines and become like machines ourselves: very functional, automatically running after time, aimlessly moving about and not knowing exactly just where we are heading for. We hardly stop to look around or within us—that’s wasted time. We begin to lose the sense of wonder, our sense of hope. We can no longer wait.
Waiting is an essential part of our lives. Life is not finished in itself; there is always something more to it, something yet to come. Parents wait for their children to grow up, children wait for their time to go to school and get a job, we all wait for the sun to set before we can enjoy the beauty of moonlight. What would life be if we can no longer wait?
The first Sunday of Advent ushers in a new liturgical year. As in every new beginning, it is a time for looking forward, anticipating, hoping, waiting. Advent precisely means “coming.” It is the season that celebrates the coming of the Lord, not only at Christmas when he will be born for us and share our humanity. For Filipinos, Christmas has been very much in the air even before Advent comes. Our Advent waiting, however, points to still another coming—the final coming of the Lord at the end of time, which is to be prepared by his coming in our daily lives.
More than just a reckoning of time, Advent is here to teach us to wait, with longing and with hope. Life may be difficult and the situation around us may be disheartening, but we can persevere without fear of disappointment. God is worthy of trust and will never fail his promise: “The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made...” (First Reading). But our waiting has to be vigilant, disciplined, and generous. It is very easy to be absorbed in our own concerns and forget about life and God’s greater plan, to stay idle and waste time and energy, only to be sorry later. Indeed, it pays to wait. Therefore, we are exhorted by the Lord Jesus to watch and pray (Gospel) and by St. Paul to grow in holiness (Second Reading).
The challenge remains: Lest our waiting be meaningless and empty, even self-destructive, let us take time to pray. Prayer opens our eyes to the presence of God every day, puts all things in the proper perspective, and makes us stand firm even in the midst of trials and sufferings.
May the Lord strengthen us, protect us from all anxiety, and make us holy, as we wait in joyful hope for his coming every day and at the end of time.