Remember the Eschaton?

A reflection for the 1^st Sunday, Advent, Year A. The readings are Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14 and Matthew 24:37-44.

We begin our new liturgical year with the first Sunday of Advent as we do every year with readings about the “eschaton”. Don’t you know the eschaton? It is not a pre-historic sea creature that lurks in the depths of the ocean. Eschaton is a Greek word that refers to the end of times. You may have read about eschatology or heard about things that are eschatological. Those are things that have to do with the end times.

That’s what Jesus is talking about today in the Gospel. He has just told the disciples about the destruction of the Temple and they want to know when that’s going to happen. He then goes into a long speech about paying attention to signs and that there will be wars and earthquakes and famines and that when they see these things happen they should flee to the hills. And then he tells them that it will be like in the days of Noah; that is the Gospel that we heard today. It doesn’t sound so bad if we only read what we heard today, but if you put it in context and read the whole story, it’s easy to think that Jesus is speaking about the end of the world.

But Jesus is not talking about the end of the world or the end of the human race. He’s talking about the eschaton: the end of the age; the end of this age.

Perhaps a better way to look at it is the way Isaiah does in our first reading today. Isaiah is talking about the same thing, the eschaton.  And it’s a beautiful picture. I imagine it as a beautiful landscape, with a towering mountain with vibrant technicolours. He says that in those days nations will stream towards the Lord’s mountain and swords will be turned into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against another nation, and they will learn war no more. It will be a time of peace.

But there is a deeper and more beautiful meaning here.

A few years ago, I read a wonderful reflection on this prophecy by Canadian singer-songwriter, Steve Bell. He says that it’s curious that Isaiah says that people will “stream” towards the mountain.  Rivers don’t stream towards mountains; streams flow away from mountains. Why doesn’t Isaiah simply say that people will walk towards or climb the mountain? Why does he say nations will stream towards the mountain? It’s because in the days to come, things will be different. It will be a world where things are not the way we expect them; like topsy-turvy town. (Remember Topsy-Turvy Town? I had the book growing up. Here’s an episode of Mickey Mouse featuring the same idea.) It will be a time when we will see things differently – as if through special supernatural glasses. We will things differently because things, in their nature, will be different: Indeed, streams will flow up mountains.

And that is why swords will be turned into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks. Not because we will make peace by melting all the weapons and turning them into tools. But because when we see a sword, we won’t see a weapon. Instead we will see something that can be used to till the land. We will look at a spear and not see something that can cause harm to others, but we will see something that can be used for pruning trees.

In the days to come, we will see the world with different eyes, as with supernatural “echaton” glasses. We will walk in the light of the Lord.

That’s why St. Paul tells the Romans that we will throw off the works of darkness and put on the armour of light. How do we do that? He tells us: Put on Jesus Christ.

I am not proposing that it’s all up to us. It’s not up to us to bring about the eschaton, the end of this age. It’s all up to God. God will bring about his reign when He wants to bring about His reign and in whichever way he wants to bring about his reign. But we can certainly cooperate with him! How? We can start today, right here and right now by taking off our dirty, blurry glasses and putting on new eschaton glasses; Jesus glasses, and trying to see the world as it really is. We can be asleep and numb to the reality of God that is already in the world or we can put on eschaton glasses and begin to see things differently: begin to see the topsy-turvy world; the streams that flow up mountains, the swords that are used for tilling the soil; we can see things in the light of God.

We can sit around and wait for the Kingdom of Heaven to come, like the people that Jesus describes in the Gospel that are asleep, going about their business as if nothing is going on. Or we can begin to see the Kingdom of God that is already in our midst. We can sit and wait for Jesus to come at some point in the future, or we can begin to recognize him here now.

I think I’ve told you the story about the native elder who asked his students to tell him how they knew the exact moment when the dawn had arrived: That precise moment when it is no longer night and it is now day. A student put up her hand. “I know teacher! I know that the dawn has arrived when there’s just enough light that if I see an animal 100 feet away I can tell whether it’s a dog or a deer.” “That’s very good,” said the teacher, “but that’s not the answer I was looking for.” Another student put up his hand. “I know, teacher! We know that the dawn has arrived when there’s just enough light that if we see a tree 50 feet away, we can tell whether it’s a fir tree or a spruce tree.” “That’s also good,” said the teacher, “but it’s not the answer I am looking for.” And so, other students had different ideas as to how to know the precise moment when the dawn had arrived, but none had the answer the teacher was looking for. So they asked, “Teacher, tell us, what’s your answer? How do you know that the dawn has arrived?” The teacher responded, “We will know that the dawn has arrived, when we look to the person sitting on our right and the person sitting on our left and we recognize them as brothers and sisters, as children of God. When we do that, it won’t matter if it’s noon or if it’s midnight, because it will always be the dawn, for our eyes will have been opened; we will see the world as God see it. It’s as if we will see the world with supernatural eschaton glasses and see the things, not as they appear, but as God sees them: Streams flowing up mountains and swords and spears as agricultural tools.

 Advent is a time when we are encouraged to begin to see the world as God sees it. Let’s make that our prayer this Advent. Every day, for the next four weeks, let’s ask God for his Light, that you will wake up and see and love everyone and everything the way He sees and loves them. I bet, if we do this daily – maybe twice a day, I bet that we will see that we will be different. We will start looking for good in everyone and everything. We will see God in everything and everyone. And it will change our attitude. We will be more thankful, more joyful, more hopeful and more generous with others. We will see everything and everyone in the light of God. We will see them as God sees them. We will see them as they really are. And we will see that God is already in our midst. The kingdom of Heaven is here. The eschaton is already here. The end of the age is already here, because Jesus is already here.

He is really here.

(If it sounds familiar, a version of this sermon was preached in December 2019.)