33rd Sunday in ordinary time, Cycle C. Today’s readings: Malachi 3:19-20a; 2 Thessalonians 3:7-12; Luke 21:5-19

 

“I guess the end really is near; don’t you agree, Father?” In recent years I have fielded such questions with increasing frequency, normally from people of faith, apprehensive about wars and calamities and the general degradation of morals across society. They view present uncertainties and terrors as fulfilling Christ’s words from today’s gospel: “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be powerful earthquakes, famines and plagues from place to place; and awesome sights and mighty signs will come from the sky.”

It is easy to sympathise with such concerns, and to view current problems as a tipping point, signalling a seismic change in reality as we know it. Nevertheless, we must also remember that most generations since Christ’s time have shared similar anxieties and crises. The denizens of every historical epoch, in one way or another, witnessed the end of the world as they knew it.

Consider, for example, the constantly shifting tides of power of the first millennium: the crumbling of the Roman Empire, the barbarian invasions, and the eventual rise of Islam; or the Middle Ages, with their quasi-endless wars and frequent plagues; the Enlightenment and its attendant revolutions, marking the end of an era for both the Church and state; or the totalitarian regimes and the genocidal wars of the 20th century.

The point is that although Jesus did foretell concrete events like the Roman siege of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple in AD 70, the apocalyptic images he employed while doing so were not intended to be precise prognostications of historical events. Rather, they were meant to evoke the sense of dread that accompanies great upheavals, whether on a cosmic level or within individual lives.

Whenever I encounter the apocalyptic style of literature found in some biblical books, I am reminded of a friend’s experience. Needing to explain his wife’s cancer battle to their young children, he employed images they could comprehend from the fairy tales they loved. Thus, the illness attacking their mum became a dragon; the treatment she was undergoing were the valiant heroes seeking to vanquish the enemy. Thankfully, in my friend's case, the dragon was defeated.

Jesus too promises victory to his friends: not an easy way out, but salvation. Although his disciples will still have to endure painful experiences the Lord will empower them to testify to the truth. They will triumph not through the power of arms or clever diatribes, but through faithfulness: “Your endurance will win you your lives,” he assures. This is also the promise that accompanies Malachi’s prophecy about a terrifying day of judgement, in today’s first reading: “But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness will shine out with healing in its rays.”

Although his disciples will still have to endure painful experiences, the Lord will empower them to testify to the truth

The pope has words of hope to accompany today’s gospel. Taking Christ’s prophecy about the destruction of the temple as a reminder that the remarkable things of this world (both good and bad) are transitory, he says: “What will collapse and pass away are the penultimate things, not the ultimate ones: the temple, not God; kingdoms and human events, not humanity itself. The penultimate things, which often appear definitive but are not, pass away. ... To us, these are front-page news, but the Lord puts them on the second page. That which will never pass away remains on the front page: the living God, infinitely greater than any temple we build for him, and the human person, our neighbour, who is worth more than all the news reports of the world.”

 

bgatt@maltachurchtribunals.org