My father commuted to work. He drove his car on the Garden
State Parkway to and from work every day, five days a week, . . . ever
since I can remember. And because he spent so much time in
his car, every few Christmases my mother would give my father an
organizer to clip to his car’s sun-visor. You know
the sort of thing I mean: it has a pocket for sun glasses and
a harness for a notepad, with a leather loop nearby for a pencil, and a
change purse to hold money for tolls. . . . Well, Christmas
of 1974 must have been a good one for Dad, because when I borrowed his
car in the summer of 1975 . . . he had the cadillac of visor
organizers. This thing was made of butter-soft leather with
no
ordinary
pencil stuck in the loop beside the notepad, . . . but a shiny Cross
pen. It was a thing of beauty.
In the summer of 1975 I borrowed my
father’s car to take my family over to our new apartment at
General Seminary in New York City. My plan was to spend the
night, drive the car back to New Jersey, and then take the bus back
into the city. But, when we arrived at the Seminary, in the
confusion of unloading the last of our belongings and three active
little boys . . . one of the car doors didn’t latch quite
right. And somehow, in the night, someone discovered that
fact, . . . and in the morning I found my father’s car had
been broken into. The contents of the glove compartment were
on the front seat . . . and my father’s visor organizer was
nowhere to be seen. . . . I felt
sick; . . . I had
not secured my father’s property, . . . and it was
gone. . .
. And I said those words of regret that constitute the litany of all
human negligence: . . . “If only”; . . .
“If only I had checked.”; “If only I had
made sure.”; “If only; . . . if only.”
So, listening to the Gospel Lesson
appointed for today, I find comfort in the fact that Jesus must have
said those words of regret Himself. As the consequence of His
own
negligence . . . Jesus must have said His share of “If
only’s”. Otherwise He would not have been
able to say with such authority,
if the householder had known in what part of the
night the thief was
coming, he would have watched . . .
“If only I had known.” . . .
“But we do
not
know,” Jesus says (having learned,
no doubt, from His own bitter experience); . . . “We do
not
know, and so
you must
be ready!”
. . . And the
thing that Jesus is telling us we must be ready for . . . is God.
You see, Jesus is, Himself, evidence
that the God and Father of us all is a vigorous God. Jesus,
Himself, is evidence that the God and Father of us all is not like
someone who starts an ant farm and then sits back to watch the
interesting creatures behind the pane of glass. Oh no, God
created us in His Image so that He might have an intelligible and
interactive relationship with His creation; so that He might
communicate Himself to us . . . and so that we might communicate
ourselves to Him. Holy Scripture is
full of interactive
events between God and humanity. … Indeed, to save
our very lives . . . God sends His
Son
to come to us and speak with us
and comfort us and instruct us, . . . and, finally, by His own
suffering on the Cross on our behalf, He
breaks the grip of
death which
sin has had upon us. . . . And on the eve of saving us from
death, Jesus reminds us of what the prophet Isaiah says, . . . that God
has appointed an End Time -- a consummation of History -- when all that
is and has been . . . shall be gathered into Life’s
completeness. . . . Moreover, Jesus says, there shall be a
reckoning; . . . a reckoning in which all the good of history --
everything that is in harmony with the heart of God; . . . all the good
of history shall be kept . . . while everything indifferent shall
perish.
. . . And recognizing our human capacity
for negligence; . . . having suffered the sorrow of His own humanity --
having recited His own litany of “If
only’s”; . . . knowing, intimately, our capacity
for negligence, Jesus
urges
us not to be negligent about God.
. . . And He brings to mind Holy Scripture’s record of a past
time -- of the days when Noah was a young man:
“For as in those days,” Jesus
says,
“before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and
giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and they
did not know until the flood came and swept them all away, so will be
the coming of the Son of man.”
In the days of Noah everyone was so darn
self-preoccupied .
. . that
they were
negligent
about God! They were consumed with the
ordinary business they thought so important at the time: they
ate and drank at given hours; gave dinner parties and attended them; .
. . they provided for the continuance of humanity by marriage and
procreation; they worked diligently in order to save and invest and
provide trusts for their children so that they would not be in
want. . . . Jesus doesn’t say that in the days of
Noah the people were particularly
sinful;
. . . only that they paid all
their attention to their ordinary business and none to their
spiritual
business. And, neglecting their spiritual lives, they took no
notice of God. Only Noah paid any attention to what God was
up to; . . . so, only Noah knew to build an ark . . . and at what hour
to go into it. And when the flood came, . . . all those
self-preoccupied people could only say, “If only” .
. . as the flood waters swept them away.
And so it will be at the completion of
History, Jesus says. So it will be when the Son of Man -- the
Incarnate Word -- shall come to gather up the attentive . . . and to
leave the negligent to their inattentiveness:
At that time, Jesus says, ordinary people will go about their ordinary
business, just like on any other day. One man will be working
at his job while occupying his mind with counting up his hours and how
much cash he will have in his pocket; . . . right beside him will be
his fellow worker, silently thanking God for the day, the opportunity
to work, and offering an intercessory prayer or two as well, . . . and
he will be taken up . . . while the other continues to figure his
wealth . . . until he perishes. And in another place, on that
same day, one woman shall be going about her everyday tasks while
massaging and rehearsing some insult that was done or said to her, . .
. and right beside her will be a friend, offering God thanks for the
birth of a neighbor’s child and contriving to pass along some
outgrown baby things of her own. This one will be received by
Jesus into Paradise . . . while the other will continue to stew . . .
until she perishes.
Just as Christ Jesus, the Incarnate
Word, came to us the first time for our redemption, when the Tremendous
was clothed in our ordinary . . . resulting in the graciously
inconspicuous, . . . so it shall be when God the Father brings this
phase of Creation to its completion. The Incarnate Word will
come to us a second time in just such a lovely way as the first; . . .
Christ Jesus will come to us a second time for our salvation; . . . to
call us (not frighten us); . . . to call us into the tremendousness of
Eternity’s Fullness.
And so, on this, the first day of this
new Christian Year, some 2008 years since the birth of Jesus; . . . on
this first day of the new Christian Year, we remember that Jesus has
urged us not to be negligent about God but to be attentive; . . . we
remember what our Redeemer has said about the consummation of
History. . . . We remember because we, who are baptized into
the death and resurrection of Christ Jesus; . . . we are an expectant
people. We do not believe that this is all there
is. We believe that in spite of the negligences which cause
our regrets and our litanies of “If
only’s”; . . . we believe that in spite of sin, our
baptism has brought us to Heaven’s threshold.
Baptism has brought us tumbling and laughing and cajoling our friends
to come with us . . . to Heaven’s threshold. But
Heaven’s threshold is only our beginning. Penitent
and expectant we live at Heaven’s threshold by grace; by
being attentive to God, . . . waiting for Jesus and His angels to come
and haul us inside.