Isaiah 2:1-5
Romans 13:11-14
Matthew 24:37-44

Bishop Untener's Homily

The first eleven chapters of the book of Genesis are referred to as "pre-history." They are ancient stories that teach timeless truths. There is the story of creation, then the entry of sin into the world with the fall of Adam and Eve, then the effects of sin - the story of Cain and Abel, then the story of the great flood

We learn a great deal from these stories because they were embedded in the human consciousness long, long ago, and are invaluable lessons about the human condition in every age, including today.

Jesus, in today's Gospel passage, refers to the story of the flood. He says: "In those days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day that Noah entered the ark. They did not know until the flood came and carried them all away."

He focuses on those months before the flood, and we can picture what was taking place. There was Noah building this huge boat - and building it on dry land - and everyone else was going about their normal day-to-day life as though this giant ship on dry land right before their eyes wasn't there. They were indifferent, complacent, immersed in the regular flow of their day-to-day life.

Here we are on the First Sunday of Advent - the beginning of another Church year. Advent is a time when we shake ourselves out of the indifference and complacency that comes from being too immersed in the regular flow of day-to-day life. We look back to the Lord's coming at Bethlehem, and prepare to celebrate it at Christmas. We look ahead to the Lord's coming again - when each of us dies. And we look ahead to the Lord's coming at the end of time, when all people and all creation will be become part of the reign of God.

That's three-dimensional vision: First, the Lord's coming 2000 years ago at Bethlehem, second, the Lord's coming weeks, months or years from now when I die, third the Lord's coming at the end of time, which may be millions of years away. Advent is a time when we check our eyes to see if our vision is three-dimensional.

I'd say that in my lifetime, there never was a time when our vision was as three-dimensional as it was in the days following September 11. We thought a lot about God . . . about Jesus who came into our world 2000 years ago and promised to be with us. We thought a lot about our own death, because any of us could easily have been killed that day. And we thought a lot about the end of the world, because we realized that there are nuclear weapons out there, and they could get into the wrong hands. There are biological weapons out there, and some are already in the wrong hands.

Now, to see everything in this three-dimensional frame is not frightening and depressing. It is actually uplifting. But first, let me tell you how in some cases it can be frightening and depressing. 

It can be frightening and depressing if I haven't thought much about these three dimensions. I might not have paid much attention to the Lord's coming into this world at Bethlehem, and the wonder of it all, how the earth and the whole universe shine with his presence. When this awareness of the Lord's presence comes upon us all of a sudden, it's frightening. We weren't prepared for the Lord being so close to us.

Also, I might not have thought much about my own death. When I suddenly have a stark realization of how close it can be - and how close it really always is - I can be very frightened, and I can get depressed. 

Also, if I haven't thought much about how this world and all of history will come to an end, as we know it, well then I can be very, very depressed. If life itself is so fragile, and this earth, as we know it, is temporary, and I've invested 99% of my time and energy trying to get ahead, get comfortable, be successful in this life and on this earth, then suddenly to have these three dimensions open up before me is frightening, depressing. I discover that the kind of world I've lived in is small, and not lasting. I have been small-minded, instead of enjoying a grand perspective. St. Paul was right when he said: "If in this life only we have hoped . . . we are the most pitiable people of all."

On the other hand, if I have this three-dimensional way of seeing things - instead of a flat, one-dimensional view of life and all that exists - if I have opened myself to experience the grandeur of God, then I am a person filled with a peace that no one can take from me. I can love this earth and all creation, and I can love it now, and it is not a temporary, passing love for I know that it is God's earth and God's creation, and I look ahead to its destiny in God. I am like an expectant mother who enjoys her child's presence now, and looks forward to something even greater when the child is born. And I focus now on the health of my child who has come into being and who will one day be born.

I have a feeling that a long time ago, say back around the time when Christ was born, people were inevitably more aware of this three-dimensional view of life. Nowadays, at least in highly developed countries like ours, we have reduced infant mortality to a fraction - and that is good. We are capable of caring for young children so that it is only if there is a terrible accident or rare disease that they die before reaching adulthood. That is good. And once they reach adulthood, the life expectancy is long, now reaching into the 80's or even 90's. 

Now, all of that is good. But it has created a certain attitude toward this life, toward this earth. It has created a certain attitude toward death, keeping it always distant. We see death as coming only by exception, and as a violation of what we have a right to expect. We can live a one-dimensional life for many, many years.

Now compare that to what life was like at the time of Jesus. Death was part of everyday life. Many children died, not only at birth but also all through childhood. And young adults died. They simply got sick with illnesses we can easily cure today, and they died. Middle-aged people died too. A study of inscriptions on tombs in the first century indicates that only 3 out of 100 people reached the age of 50. People at that time couldn't help but see their life differently, at whatever age.

The events of September 11 suddenly brought a change to our way of thinking. Death is much closer to all of us, even though statistically it has touched only a very small percentage. But it's still close. We think of how vulnerable we are - with anthrax, nuclear weapons, biological weapons, potential terrorism. These are terrible in themselves. But the effect has been to awaken us to the reality of death, if only in our thoughts, and to the passing character of this world. 

We are no longer quite like those people in the days of Noah, too immersed in the flow of day to day life to think of anything more. We think of a lot more. We are thinking deeper, longer thoughts - about God, about death, about the end of time. We have been pushed into a three-dimensional vision.

Strange as it may seem, this can make us healthier people, happier people, no longer lethargic about the grand truths that God has revealed. Strange as it may seem this can help us to enjoy this life right now and awaken us to the presence of God who is so much closer to us because of the birth of the child at Bethlehem. 

That is what we do during Advent. We realize that we are all expectant mothers and fathers. Our hope is not an escape into the future. It is full and strong right now, for the Lord is within us. And our hope is fuller and stronger right now because of what lies ahead.

We look for the day, and we invest more of our time and energy in working for the day, when those words of the prophet Isaiah will be fulfilled:

They shall beat their swords into plowshares 
and their spears into pruning hooks; 
One nation shall not raise the sword against another, 
nor shall they train for war again. 
O house of Jacob, come, 
let us walk in the light of the Lord! 

I wish all of you a Happy Advent.

Originally given on December 2, 2001