At first glance, there may seem to be very little difference between today’s Gospel and last Sunday’s. Both deal with the same event, namely, the terrible revolt of nature at the end of the world, with signs in the sun, and the moon, and the stars, men’s hearts failing them for fear. But this juxtaposition of two Gospels, on the last Sunday of the liturgical year and now on the first Sunday of the year, is actually the Church’s way of reinforcing a very important concept…
Our lesson in all this should give us a jolt of inspiration and hope. By repeating the sequence of events that God has told us will bring about the end of the world, we are being forced, in a very special way, to pay special attention to these things. Last week was the end of the year and we had been focusing on the four last things—death, with our prayers for the Holy Souls in Purgatory, judgment and the preparation of our soul for that judgment, and then of course heaven and hell and the importance of our eternal state of either joy or suffering. But this week, we look at the same events in an entirely different way, one that should banish all our fears and worries and replace them with the peace and calm of Christmas. That most beautiful of all our holidays, Christmas is today placed before our eyes, still a distant four weeks away, and yet it’s coming. Christ is coming, and the hopes and fears of all the years shall be met in that little town of Bethlehem, at midnight, in the piercing cold.
The Gospel today reflects this in its proclamation of the Second Coming of Christ. Instead of “looking after those things which are coming on the earth,” we instead turn our eyes upward where we shall “see the Son of man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.” And our blessed Lord reassures us that in those terrible days of great tribulation “such as was not since the beginning of the world to this time, no, nor ever shall be,” something mighty and blessed shall occur to restore our shaken hearts. Our Lord tells us that we should “look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh.” Just as the coming of Christ at Christmas brought light to a darkened, sinful world, so too will his Second Coming restore our hope for eternal happiness, with the knowledge that our redemption is at hand.
It’s time, in other words, to set aside our fears, our horror and dismay at the terrible iniquities of our time, and refocus, with all the strength of our body, mind and soul, on the coming of Christ. Be it as a little Child in a manger or in all the power and glory of his Second Coming, the end result is the same—our Redemption. And because our frail human minds have trouble grasping the unknown factors of that Second Coming, we have been given this annual opportunity to celebrate his first Coming, with all the familiar and comforting details of the Christmas story.
We love Christmas for many reasons, but this year let’s not get lost in mere nostalgia and sentiment. This year let’s introduce into our festivities that joy which comes from knowing that yes indeed, our Redemption draweth nigh. Not just the Redemption of the world, but our Redemption. Yours and mine here today. At Christmas the Christ Child comes as a light to lighten the Gentiles, but who are these Gentiles spoken of by the old man Simeon, if not each and every one of us? He came to lighten us, and today we may allow ourselves to bask in the distant rays of the coming light, and rejoice that our own Redemption draweth nigh. Just as he came to that humble manger in Bethlehem, Christ will come again, this time in all his glory, to dispel once and for all our fears and despair, to replace this world he created, this vale of tears in which we live, with a far, far better world. Our world, this heaven and earth sooner or later shall surely pass away, and all those tidings of comfort and joy shall at last be fulfilled.