17 November, 2024, 33rd Sunday, YR B: Daniel 12:1-3; Hebrews 10:11-14, 18; Mark 13: 24-42
Sometimes people ask me whether I think these are the end times. I usually refer them to the Gospel verse we just heard: But of that day or hour, no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.
I believe there are good reasons not to know: it’s none of my business and I believe having that information as a frame of reference is no help. Whether I cower in fear of impending doom or am relieved that there is no imminent danger is not a healthy way to face life’s choices.
To what degree is fear the motive of such an inquiry? And is fear any reliable guide to good decisions?
Have I forgotten how many worlds have ended in human history? Certainly, the destruction of Jerusalem, a few decades after the death of Jesus, was the end of the world he had known, just as the world I was born into no longer exists.
Have I forgotten hope all together? Have I forgotten that what we call “the end” is really the beginning of God’s definitive presence among us?
Can’t I be so obsessed with the end of the world that I miss opportunities, here and now? Can’t I disable myself from recognizing and receiving the gifts offered here and now? Can’t I fail to be present to the “here and now”? To myself? Or to those who need me?