Preparing for the endgame

BY BISHOP HUBERT BUCHER

This is the second of Bishop Bucher’s three-part series of reflections on Advent.

The original and deeper meaning of Advent is to serve as a reminder of Christ’s Second Coming—to remind us, year after year, about the “end times”.

“Think of the fig tree, and indeed every tree. As soon as you see them bud, you know that summer is now near. So with you when you see these things happening: know that the kingdom of God is near” (Lk 21:29-33).

The Old Testament book of Daniel describes the prophet’s nightly visions. In one of these he saw a terrible beast. Together with other frightening beasts, this beast terrorised and killed many people on earth (7:2-14).

But then Daniel had another vision, in which that fearful beast was killed and its associates were deprived of their power. Finally, he saw in another vision, “coming on the clouds of heaven, one like a son of man. He came to him who had condemned the fearful beast to death, and glory and kingship was conferred on him, and men and women from all peoples, nations and languages became his servants” (13f).

Jesus identified himself with the one who will come on the clouds of heaven, and before whom every human being will have to appear at the end of the world to be judged, as we profess in the Nicene Creed: “He will come in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end.”

The reminder about the “last things” is not meant to frighten us, but to awaken our realism.

We are all on the way to our exit from this life on earth, which will happen at the hour of our death. Advent encourages and urges us to accept and live with this reality, without fear.

However, this is only possible if we strive to live holy lives, that is, living in accordance with God’s will, as Jesus told his disciples: “If you love me, keep my commandments” (Jn 14:15).

It is no coincidence that we start the month of November—at the end of which we enter the season of Advent—with the feast of All Saints.

The message of the feast of All Saints is very simple and clear: No saint has fallen from heaven. All saints were men and women like you and me. Each of them had some, or many, good gifts, but each of them had also their shadow sides.

Like ourselves, all of them had to struggle against sin, but they learnt to put their trust completely in God’s power to help them change and become holy.

This is our calling since the day when we received the sacrament of Baptism. We are called to join the huge crowd of people which another visionary—this time of the New Testament—saw, and about which we read in the last book of the Bible, St John’s Book of Revelation. Our celebration of the Holy Eucharist is full of references to this liturgy which takes place in heaven, and which the writer of the Book of Revelation saw in his vision: “I saw a great multitude, which no one could count” (7:9f).

At each solemn celebration of the Eucharist we incense the altar, just as John saw the altar in the heavenly Jerusalem incensed, and it is said in the Book of Revelation that the incense represents the prayers of the faithful.

On the altar in heaven, John sees “a lamb that seems to have been slain”, yet it is alive and receives worship and praise from the vast multitude of souls that have been saved through its death.

We easily recognise in that lamb our Lord Jesus, who was slain on the cross for our sins and to whom, just before receiving him in Holy Communion, we call: “Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world, have mercy on us and give us peace.”

Before this, at the end of the praise hymn which is called the Preface, we say or sing in each holy Mass: “Holy, holy, holy…”, again taking our cue from the Book of Revelation. The Book of Revelation was a great source of consolation and strength for the followers of Christ during the persecution which they had to endure throughout the Roman empire in the first three centuries.

It gave them the promise that their suffering was not in vain: just like Jesus rose from the dead after his death on the cross, every one who takes up his or her cross and follows Jesus in bearing the hardships of this life, will be saved and admitted to join the saints in heaven.

The Book of Revelation ends with the words in the Aramaic language “Marana tha!” They are addressed to Jesus, and mean: “Come, Lord Jesus!”

When we gather in our homes around the Advent wreath, and each time we celebrate the Holy Eucharist, let us make this call of the early Christians, our ancestors in the faith, our own:

“Come, Lord Jesus! Help me not to be afraid of death, but rather to look forward to it as the gate to life everlasting. Help us to look forward to the end of the world as we experience it today, a world filled with so much beauty and goodness, but also filled with so much hatred, war and destruction, unfaithfulness, lies and deception, violence, corruption, pain and tears.

“Come, Lord Jesus, help us to be salt of the earth and light of the world, messengers of the New World which you are going inaugurate on the Last Day; a world unspoilt by sin, a world which will begin and never end when you will come on the clouds of heaven, and take with you into your Father’s House, all those who believed in you and were faithful in following you until the end of their lives.”

Bishop Hubert Bucher is the retired bishop of Bethlehem in the Free State. This is the second of his three-part series of reflections on Advent.