(First Sunday of Advent (A): This
homily was given on November 27, 2022 at St. Pius X Church, Westerly, R.I., by
Fr. Raymond Suriani. Read Isaiah 2:1-5;
Psalm 122:1-9; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:37-44.)
[For the audio version of this homily, click here: First Sunday of Advent 2022]
It was an ordinary morning in
“paradise” in early December, 81 years ago: the sun was shining, the birds were
singing, the air was pleasantly warm—and then the Japanese planes flew in,
dropping their bombs and firing their guns on our ships in Pearl Harbor.
The extraordinary happened within the context of the ordinary.
It was a typically gorgeous July day as I remember it: I was 12 years old and would normally have been outside playing baseball with my friends, but I was glued to my television set—and I’m sure they were glued to theirs—as Apollo 11 blasted off from Cape Kennedy with Neil Armstrong on board. It was another ordinary summer day later that same week, when Armstrong became the first human being to set foot on the moon.
The extraordinary happened within the context of the ordinary.
It was a normal Tuesday morning for most of us: our morning rituals were completed, and we were beginning our day at work or at school. I had said Mass here at St. Pius, and was getting ready to make a visit to our parishioners in Westerly Hospital—and then I was told about planes crashing in New York, Washington, D.C. and Pennsylvania.
Once again, the extraordinary happened within the context of the ordinary.
Countless other examples could be given of this phenomenon, one of which concerns the reason we’re here this morning: on a seemingly ordinary day in the first century, a man was led to his death outside the city of Jerusalem. Two others were executed along with him. In many ways, this crucifixion looked like a typical display of Roman justice—but it was anything but typical. In this “ordinary” event, the most extraordinary occurrences were taking place: the world was being reconciled to God, the price for every human sin was being paid, and the gates of heaven were being opened for God’s saints.
The extraordinary happens within the context of the ordinary.
This is the message Jesus has for us in today’s Gospel text from Matthew 24. He speaks there about his Second Coming—which will certainly be an extraordinary event in human history (to put it mildly!). And he compares the human situation at his Second Coming with the human situation in the days prior to the flood. He says, “As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. 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.” In other words, the extraordinary flood happened within the context of the ordinary events of the time: people were going about their day-to-day business—eating, drinking, celebrating weddings and other festive occasions—when, all of a sudden, the rain began to fall. And, of course, it didn’t stop for a long, long time!
“So it will be,” Jesus indicates, ‘at the coming of the Son of Man.” “Two men will be out in the field’ . . . ‘Two women will be grinding at the mill . . . “—in other words, people will be going about their ordinary daily tasks when this incredibly extraordinary event takes place, and human history finally comes to an end.
Only God knows if we’ll still be on earth when all this happens. But even if we don’t survive until the Second Coming, the same truth applies to the day of our death: this incredibly extraordinary moment when Jesus comes for us will most likely occur on what will be an ordinary day to the rest of the world. Take a look at the obituary page in the newspaper when you get home today: every one of those people had an extraordinary meeting with Jesus Christ on a day that most of us would certainly call “ordinary”—either yesterday or, perhaps, a day or two before.
This is why Jesus tells us to “stay awake!” He’s telling us to remember that this extraordinary final encounter with him could happen on any “ordinary” day in the future—or even today! Is there any more important reason for us to examine our consciences frequently and go to Confession regularly?
But expecting the extraordinary every day is not only the best way to prepare for death, it also happens to be the way to get the most out of life!
Mother Teresa of Calcutta once said, “Whatever you do in your family, for your children, for your husband, for your wife, you do for Jesus.” All those tedious, boring chores; all those monotonous, stressful sacrifices: to the vast majority of people—let’s face it—these are nothing but terrible inconveniences. But to people like Mother Teresa— who see the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary—they’re opportunities to love and serve Jesus Christ, the King of kings and the Lord of lords. That gives them a much more positive (and pleasant) outlook on life!
These people never would say that they attended an “ordinary Mass,” because they know by faith that in every Mass they have an extraordinary encounter with Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. They never would say that they made an “ordinary confession,” because they know that every time they receive the sacrament of Reconciliation the precious Blood of Jesus Christ comes upon them and washes them clean of their sins—and that is definitely extraordinary! They never treat the Bible as an ordinary book, because they know that our extraordinary God wrote it—consequently they listen to it with attentiveness and read it with enthusiasm.
I began my homily today by saying that the extraordinary happens within the context of the ordinary. Hopefully by now it’s clear: those who are most sensitive to this truth live life to the full, and—even more importantly—they die fully prepared.
