Advent I

Advent I

Jeremiah 33:14-16; Psalm 25; 1 Thessalonians 3:12 – 4:2; Luke 21:25-28; 34-36

A New York Times article* last Sunday asked the question: “Does the world need more people?

The answer: Not if you ask the glaciers, the rainforests, the air or the more than 37,400 species on the verge of extinction thanks to the relentless expansion of human beings…”

The final quote of the article was most alarming for its self–referenced, selfish, and pessimistic view of humanity: “I have many more things to explore on my journey that do not involve raising other suffering human beings on an out–of–supplies planet”.

With“[the] rise in political extremism, at homeand abroad. A pandemic that has killed more than five million. Thousand–year floods that wiped out western European towns. West Coast wildfires that grow more unimaginable in scale each summer” the focus of the article was whether it is still OK to procreate. “Some prospective parents wonder: How harmful might it be to bring a child into this environment?”

I wonder if the survivors of the Nazi Holocaust asked themselves that question. “How harmful might it be to bring a child into this environment?” What of the survivors of the Armenian Holocaust, the people who suffered through the 16th century wars of religion, the families whose children were sacrificed on Aztec altars, the women who were torn from their children and sold into slavery of every age, the survivors of the Golden Horde descended from Genghis Khan or indigenous peoples throughout the North American continent.

I wonder if God asked that question as the Son was about to enter human history. The Roman Empire was a violent place of state terrorism, slavery, infanticide, and war. Human dignity was accorded to a select few. Would not a better time and place proved more advantageous to God’s design?

But has there ever been a better place and time?

The Gospel today and the passages of scripture we have heard over the last Sundays resonate with these images and questions. “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on earth nations will be in dismay, perplexed by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will die of fright in anticipation of what is coming upon the world…”

Is Jesus describing a specific historical event or are these cosmic images portraying the end of one age and the birthing of another? An age that has been in the throes of birth since our expulsion from the Garden. The birth pains of a new age promised to us by God just before we left; a promise in which God enters onto the stage of human history.

Might we gain insight from our survivors of the Nazi Holocaust? After experiencing the fear and helplessness, horror beyond imagination and systematic deaths methodically carried out they had to ask themselves, why would anyone want to bring a newborn into this world? But they did. The Jewish Holocaust survivors, numbering now about 400,000, are dying off but their children and grandchildren continue to live and so do all the other descendants of humans who have faced a sense of helplessness, fear, and worse, hopelessness with new life.

Why?  What underlies the desire to have children and continue God’s act of creation?

What meaning is to be found in the face of a newborn, the planting of a tree, the act of creating art and dance, the entrance into silent prayer, the rebuilding of a home after a bombing or hurricane, teaching a person to read and write, picking up litter on a street, to sitting with a person who is dying…

Is it not hope?

Hear what Jesus says, “When these signs begin to happen, stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand”. God is always coming toward us. Though the concerns and questions raised by some parents whether to procreate are understandable, they are founded on fear and hopelessness. On the other hand, we Christians pray at every Eucharistic Liturgy: “Deliver us, O God from every evil…as we await the blessed hope – the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ”. In the face of such overwhelming signs we stand erect and raise our heads. Note that the cry, “Deliver us… is made …as we await”. The evil about us, even the evil we cause such as climate change, the holding of extremist views, racism, keeping people in poverty, and hatred, is a sign of God’s coming to save us for we cannot save ourselves.

All the Memorial Acclamations reaffirm our neediness and waiting: “We proclaim your death, O Lord…until you come again; When we eat…and drink… until you come again; Save us, Saviour of the world…set us free”.

Consider the first phrases of each verse of the opening hymn: “Come, Lord and tarry not!; Come, for your saints still wait; Come, for creation groans; Come, and make all things new; Come, and begin your reign…” The cries rooted in fear give way to hope in promises made to us.  

The present celebration of the Feast of Christmas leads us to believe God entered human history once in the past. But that is an incomplete view. Our cries give to the Advent–Christmas Season a strength and will to confront our brokenness and the evil in our world with the face of every newborn, the face of new life and hope. Our hope is in a God who is always coming to save us. Our hope is in the Second Coming when Jesus Christ will “make all things new!” And when we “stand up and raise our heads” we participate in the work and promises of God.

Like all the world’s survivors, are we not to confront evil and death with life?

In these weeks of Advent how will you and I dispel fear and darkness and affirm life?

*[New York Times, In an Age Like This, Is It Still OK to Procreate? By Alex Williams, Sunday, 21 November 2021]