33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B - 15th of November 2009

When we hear the words "At that time," or "In those days" we prepare ourselves for a story about the past. This is how the first and third readings of today's Mass begin. But in fact both readings are about the future.

‘Apocalyptic’ is the word used to describe the kind of writing we see in today’s gospel reading. It is practically impossible for us to understand the serious meaning of this today, because (apart from science-fiction) the only apocalyptic we hear is from the lips of fundamentalists who appear to be gloating in advance over the destruction of the world.

Biblical apocalypse was written in times of persecution, to encourage the persecuted by telling them that their sufferings were foreseen by God, and that they would prevail in the end. Courage, not fear, was being promoted.

One aspect of it we can relate to fairly readily in our day: transience. Everything is passing, everything that is living will die. In an age of immense and rapid change we cannot fail to see that everything is passing. In some part of our minds we would like to hold this reality away from us because it is too painful to think about. But the Scriptures tell us to think about these things. “Like a weaver you (God) have rolled up my life, you cut me off from the loom” (Is 38:12). It is a pagan thing to deny death and transience, for if there is no death there is no resurrection. Let's take whatever assurance we can get from the apocalyptic message of today's gospel.

There is something else that apocalyptic writing can show us about ourselves: our bondage to calendars and clocks. A gentle Indian nun who had lived for a year in the West had finally got courage to say how she perceived us. "Western people," she said, "are always asking, 'Why?' and 'How much?' and 'What time is it?'" We want to know when something is going to happen, as if this were the heart of the matter. It is the fact that everything is coming to an end that is central, not when it will happen. There is even a sense in which it is happening every moment. Every moment my personal world, with its dream of permanence, is coming to an end. Every moment, because my world is coming to and end, I see that I cannot find security in the past but must throw myself on God's mercy, every moment.