Exams and Heaven

Second Sunday of Advent

            Now for a little note: in this new liturgical year, I want to shift my focus a little bit in the homilies I preach.  Last year I tried to focus on the gift of faith and spreading the Gospel.  That certainly will still come up in my homilies, as it is a perennial aspect of our faith.  But this year I want to focus more on the prayers that I say in your name during the Mass as a way of encouraging us to participate more fully in the Divine Mysteries in which we partake, and challenging us to take that participation outside the doors of this church.

Final exams week: I remember it well.  I remember the stress, the anxiety, hoping to keep a good grade, or maybe to bump the grade up a bit with a final good grade.  Plus, getting ready, maybe, to move back home for a little while.  And, there’s still Christmas presents and cards to buy.  No big deal, right?  But, imagine this added aspect: when Bishop Boyea was academic dean at Sacred Heart Major Seminary in Detroit, during exam week he would walk up and down the hallways singing, “It’s the Most Wonderful time of the Year.”  Honestly, I’m surprised there wasn’t a freak “accident” at least once.

            Our first reading sets a picturesque view of the coming of the Messiah:

the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him…not by appearance shall he judge, nor by hearsay shall he decide, but he shall judge the poor with justice, and decide aright for the land’s afflicted.  Justice shall be the band around his waist, and faithfulness a belt upon his hips.  Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.  The cow and the bear shall be neighbors…There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain.

Maybe to this we might add: the professor will stop giving exams, and class participation shall be 100% of the grade.  Surely there are no final exams in paradise!!

            The prayer that opened our Mass, the Collect (so called because the priest collects all our silent prayers and merges them into a prayer that he says on all the people’s behalf) said: “Almighty and merciful God, may no earthly undertaking hinder those who set out in haste to meet your Son, but may our learning of heavenly wisdom gain us admittance to his company.”  God doesn’t want us to be distracted right now by any earthly undertaking, including exams.  So, everybody take a deep breath, and whatever it is that has got you wound up tighter than a watch, let it go.  Because, while most things we do are important—in school, in work, with family—nothing is more important than our time right here, right now with the Lord. 

           

Our Gospel passage introduces us for the first time on a Sunday this Advent to St. John the Baptist.  And he sounds quite different than the first reading.  Whereas the first reading seems all nice, warm, and cozy, St. John the Baptist seems more like an angry preacher.  He calling people broods of vipers, telling them the axe is at the foot of the tree to chop it down, and calling everyone to repent.  And yet he is the messenger that Isaiah, the same Isaiah as our first reading, prophesied as “A voice of one crying out in the desert, Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.”  That seems a bit odd.

            But what John is pointing out is that we are all sinners: each and every one of us.  I am a sinner.  You are all sinners.  That sounds harsh!  That sounds downright mean to our yuppy culture (to use a Duck Dynasty term).  But it’s true, and in order for us to prepare for Jesus’ coming, we have to recognize our sins.  We have to turn away from them.  Because otherwise, if we do not recognize that we are sinners, then we don’t need a savior.  If you are not lost, then you don’t need saving.  And if you don’t need saving, then Jesus is not for you, because He came to seek and to save what was lost.

            Our prayers try to remind us that we need a redeemer, too.  Our Prayer over the Offerings says: “Be pleased, O Lord, with our humble prayers and offerings, and, since we have no merits to plead our cause, come, we pray, to our rescue with the protection of your mercy.”  What we’re giving God is the best we have, hopefully, but even that isn’t so great.  We don’t have anything that we have done that could put us back into right relationship with God.  Because we owe God everything, nothing that we could ever pay back would work at paying down the principle of the debt we incurred by sin.  When we recognize that, then Jesus becomes all the more important, because we recognize we can’t do it on our own.  We cannot heal ourselves, but need to be healed by the mercy of God. 

            And God gives us His mercy when we ask for it.  He gives it to us under sacramental signs.  He gives us mercy for all our sins when we come to Him in the Sacrament of Penance (and we’ll have our communal Penance Liturgy next Sunday), and He gives us mercy for our venial or small sins when we celebrate His Death, Resurrection, and Ascension under the sacramental signs of bread and wine which are also truly the Body and Blood of Jesus.  Our Prayer after Communion reaffirms this: “Replenished by the food of spiritual nourishment, we humbly beseech you, O Lord, that, through our partaking in this mystery, you may teach us to judge wisely the things of earth and hold firm to the things of heaven.”  When we worthily receive the Eucharist, we are spiritually fed, and as we partake in the Paschal Mystery, that Death, Resurrection, and Ascension that won for us eternal life, we understand better and are given strength to live out better our call to be disciples of Jesus who try to make our life like His as much as we can.

            Yes, Advent is a crazy time of year as we prepare for Christmas because of exams, parties, family coming over, work, buying gifts.  But in the midst of the craziness, don’t let it consume you.  Don’t let these earthly undertakings get in the way of what Advent truly prepares for: the celebration of the birth of Christ, the second coming of Christ, and the ways that Christ comes to our hearts each day.