#EndoftheWorld – Homily for the 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Year C

The days are getting shorter and shorter. The leaves are abandoning the trees, winter is on the horizon. The liturgical year, our Church year, is coming to an end. And always at the end of the Church year, the readings are chosen to remind us that just as the year ends, so there will be an end of all days.

It’s not that the Church is morbid and wants us to think about our death and the end of the world.

We already think about it, as humans have for centuries. It’s part of the human condition to wonder about our end. And in our time, we’re almost obsessed with it. How many movies have there been in the last few years that dealt with the end of the world? Armageddon, The Day After Tomorrow, I Am Legend. Last spring I sat in a theater waiting for a movie to begin and almost every single preview was for an apocalyptic movie: After Earth, Oblivion, World War Z.

So we’re already preoccupied with the end of all things. We put our fears up on the big screen with lavish special effects and powerful music.

But some day the end will come. Just as the temple in Jerusalem was destroyed in 70 A.D., one day our temples, both secular and sacred, will be thrown down.

Football stadiums will become like the ruins of the Roman colosseum.

Theme parks will stand deserted and rusty.

The great cathedrals of Europe will be piles of rubble.

Even the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica will one day be gone.

These things will happen at some unknown point in the future, but we can see the foreshadowings even today. We have only to look at the images coming in from the Philippines to see the truth of it.

The victims of the typhoon know first hand what Jesus meant when he said, “All that you see here— the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” The pictures and videos of the storm’s destruction are a stark reminder of the fragility of life, and of our powerlessness.

But what does our faith have to offer us? In these cold, darkening autumn days, in the face of our own mortality and the mortality of the world, what do we do? How do we live, knowing we are going to die?

These are the questions put to Jesus in today’s gospel, and he answers with three things not to do and one thing to do.

He begins by saying, “Do not be deceived.”

There are contrary voices all around us, giving guarantees of happiness. Every commercial, every self-help book, every talk show on TV promises to show us how to be free and comfortable. “Distract yourself with this, you deserve it.” If the end of the world comes, at least I’ll go listening to my personal playlist of music, drinking my choice of the finest of wines, and posting my status on Facebook and Twitter: “#Endoftheworld. I thought it would be more dramatic.”

But Jesus reminds us not to be led astray. The way to happiness does not lie in the things of this world. The way to fullness of life is the way of Christ. And the way of Christ is the way of sacrificial love. And the way of sacrificial love is the way of the cross. But the cross frightens us. And so Jesus gives us another thing not to do.

Jesus say, “Do not be terrified.”

When we get a glimpse of the end of all things, when we consider the cross, we do become afraid. We’re afraid of pain, of rejection, of letting go.

We don’t want to give up our stuff. We don’t want to lose our families and friends. We don’t want to lose ourselves.

And that’s what leads to Jesus’ next piece of advice, which is perhaps the key to all of this.

He saves this piece of advice for the end, because it’s so important, but it really comes before everything else. We hear Jesus tell us that before the end of all things, before people try and trick us into following their way, before the disasters occur and we become terrified, we will be seized and persecuted.

And when that happens, Jesus says “Do not prepare your defense beforehand.” Don’t plan out what you’re going to say. That may not seem like earth-shattering advice, but the more literal translation is, “Do not practice gestures or rehearse a dance.”

In other words, live our lives as authentic followers of Christ, not as actors playing a part, and if we do that our very beings will be a witness when we are confronted with false ways to happiness and terrifying disasters.

There are doubts and insecurities deep inside us, causing us to pretend that we’re someone else. “If only I was as intelligent as St. Augustine, or as confident as Mother Teresa, or as merciful as Pope Francis.” But God doesn’t want another Augustine, or Teresa, or Francis. He already has them. He wants you and he wants me. The best witness we can give is to live our lives as real, true, authentic disciples. Then, when the world is dark, we become witnesses to the light, giving hope to the hopeless.

Do people see Christ in our smiles, in our laughter, in our generosity? When we come before this altar, are we practicing gestures, rehearsing a dance? Or do our actions and words flow from within us naturally?

They only can flow naturally from within us if we persevere, which is Jesus’ final message in the gospel today.

There are struggles, disasters, and tragedies ahead of us, and it is so tempting to give up. To stop praying, to stop coming to Mass; to turn on sports or reality TV, to play Candy Crush, or plug headphones in and drown out the world. But there is only one way to avoid losing our way and losing our courage: and that is to persevere in the work of Christ.

Paul gives us the model: working in toil and drudgery day and night. When faced with the end of all days, the People of God follow the advice of Jesus to stay on the path, avoid fear, and become authentic disciples.

At the heart of all these things, and the way to achieve them, is to know Christ. Not just to know about Christ, but to know Christ intimately, sharing our joys and disappointments with him in prayer, looking for his face among the poor and serving them, gathering around this table and receiving his Body and Blood. If we know Christ, we will not be deceived by impostors. If we know Christ, we will not be afraid. If we know Christ, our witness will be genuine and not an act. If we know Christ, then we will have the spiritual strength to persevere.

And when the end comes, the prophet Malachi tells us that the sun of justice will arise with its healing rays.

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