Coming, Prayer and turning point, amid the roar of the waves.

(Mt 24:37-51)

What kind of Coming is it?

And why do we want the Lord to be present in our lives?

Are we waiting for a shortcut - an act of power - that will calm the stormy sea?

Indeed, it does not seem in keeping with the style of Good News to resurrect the 'days of Noah' and the flood that 'swept away all'.

But there is a wise way of understanding these expressions, which is not the one already found in the moral paradigm of religious cultures.

In the observant tradition of all peoples, insecurity is perceived as a disadvantage.

According to commonplace ideas, spiritual masters see progress when a soul with a mixed and disordered existence overcomes its turmoil in favour of order and tranquillity.

But the experience in the Spirit is more intimately restless than obvious. Nor is it the same as a generic 'spiritual life' animated by a devout sense that detaches itself from transversal instances, for an ideal of 'coherent calm'.

Thus conditioned by indoctrination that is standardised to 'being in society', we piously wait to meet our Lord in dark moments, but only so that he may restore our fortune.

We wait for him in times of economic hardship, so that he may give us an advantage with a win; in humiliating circumstances, so that he may help us get back on our feet.

In loneliness, so that he may bring us together with the right person. 

In danger... hoping that at least He will give us the strength to turn the situation around.

And in sickness, we imagine that he will restore our youthful vigour.

Thus, in the Babel, that (at least in the end) he will communicate relaxation - better still, triumph.

In the Gospels, Jesus tries to make his followers understand where and when to encounter God authentically.

But as we wait for his 'Promises' - and for him to manifest himself as a new Justice, without any more 'art of war' [first reading] - we find it difficult to go beyond the exterior.

We project our ideas even onto religion - but Faith detaches itself from them. It evaluates with a different mindset.

For example, we may fail to meet a friend because we get the time and place of the appointment wrong.

The same thing happens with God.

The uncertainty proclaimed by the Gospels is like a 'flood that sweeps everything away' [cf. v. 39]... but it is Good News!

Although we tend to give a sense of permanence to what we have experienced and believed ourselves to be, we repeatedly experience that our certainties change - just like the waves.

Jesus teaches that true doubt paradoxically arises from some aspect of our identity that (comically) attempts to balance the waves of life.

Instead, the essence of each of us flows from a lively Source, which does what it must every day.

Habits, perspectives, reassuring ways of being with people and dealing with situations cut off the richness of our precious nuances; a large part of our very faces.

And the births and rejuvenations that belong to us.

The inner impact of the many stimuli of this cosmic [and personal] Core insinuates an inevitable and fruitful imbalance, which we risk interpreting in a negative way; precisely, as a nuisance.

In the mind of the person who avoids oscillations, that kind of 'wave' that comes to make us think about ancient things is immediately identified as a threat to our identity.

Providence itself – the 'wave' that sees ahead – is perhaps branded with restlessness, even by those who advise us.

In the ideal man, as chiselled by normalising moralism, the swampy 'water' of the drives is what dirties and drags us down. And the sky would always be clear and clean 'above' the earth.

Instead, it is often thought, a cultural identification upstream, that produces insecurity and torment.

Prejudice oppresses us far more than objective reality, which comes into play to refresh our soul and make it as light as the 'sea foam' crudely embodied.

For an evolution towards improvement, Jesus wants a disciple who is permeable to the New that shakes up the old 'status quo'.

The lack of doubt that the Lord intends to convey does not rhyme with the mechanism of habit.

The certainty he wishes to give us is not a false one - that of the lazy immutability of things that are always the same.

The state of defence and 'prevention' may be characteristic of a life spent in self-interested withdrawal, dodging shocks - not a sign of Life in the Spirit.

Today's Gospel wishes believers to be strongly critical, and even insecure: it does not say 'you must be like this', nor 'you are this' - 'we have made it, why not you?'.

[The identity of St. Benedict is not that of St. Francis, although both are figures deeply rooted (like the circumstances) in the same Source; the original source, however, of gushing water].

We must dive into the 'waves', we must know these 'waves'; because our anchor is not in external things or in what we display in shop windows, but in the Source of Being.

The shell of appearances condemns us to the worst kind of fluctuation, to the least advantageous of insecurities: believing that by maintaining (for example) our economic status or prestige, by reaching that goal, by climbing the ladder of success, and so on, we will avoid frustration, we will escape anxiety, we will finally be free of conflict and even happy.

But in this way, our soul is not strengthened, nor does it fly towards unknown territories; rather, it settles in the most conformist enclosure.

Instead, we are alive, and the youth that conquers the Kingdom comes from the chaos of upheavals.

Missionaries are animated by this one certainty: the best stability is instability: that 'roar of the sea and the waves' where no two waves are alike.

In short, based on the Word of God, perhaps even the liturgical colour purple should be reinterpreted - in a much more vital, incisive and profound way than we thought we understood.

To internalise and live the message:

Advent: why do you want the Lord to come and be present in your life? 

Vigilance is now

(Mt 24:42-51)

    The key to understanding this passage could be St Augustine's famous expression: 'Timeo Dominum transeuntem'. Incarnation is a direct link between reality and the divine condition.

The time of the person of Faith is like a season of waiting, but not of impermanence: rather, it is one of continuous capitalisation and transformation.

Nor is the moment of the Church configured as an institutional period, a pause with a set time and an expiry date.

Of course, it is not even a time of preparation based on our ideas, but rather of welcoming the Kingdom, which comes in its Appeal - today with very clear proposals (even in its subtractions).

We are called to be ready at every moment, and quick as a "thief in the night"... perhaps he wants to take away something that we believe is absolutely ours, but to which we are too attached.

From the earliest generations of believers, groups of visionaries arose - unfortunately misguided - connected to an idea of imminent catastrophe.

The expectation of the sudden "return" of a Messiah who was to put an end to injustice and bring about the Final Judgment was common among those who desired the beginning of a new phase in history.

However, nowhere in the Gospels is it written that Jesus 'returns', as if he had left. He is coming, certainly: 'He is coming' - not 'He returns'.

In the New Testament, the Risen One is the Coming One [‘o Erchòmenos], that is, the One who bursts in, who incessantly makes himself present.

The end of the world and the return of the Lord on a white cloud is a suggestion that is still used today to intimidate simple people and condition them into fanatical groups. Social networks are full of it.

The point of Life is to notice, to perceive the Presence of Someone within something, in the summary things and in the events of liberation; even in the drama of rebirth from the global crisis.

No form of alienation comes from the Gospels: Christ is with us at all times, in our commitment to nature, cultures and the life of all.

The full, total experience of completeness is not given in a particular time. But, for example, the spirit of selflessness that is spreading and already making relationships and things new remains a guarantee of the Kingdom.

It is the seed and prelude to the new world that the Church is called to proclaim and build, welcoming it with open arms.

With the 'Son of Man' who 'is coming' at the centre, step by step, let us not lose sight of the goal.

Every moment is a good moment to sharpen our discernment in the Spirit. Flexibility of heart will prevail over predictions and the imperatives of the mind.

This is how we become aware of and perceive opportunities; open our eyes, decipher events, shift our gaze - in order to grasp the Coming of the Lord, sense its meaning, intuit it as a source of Hope.

In the Eucharist, we proclaim the Coming of the Lord, because life in Christ is, in every event, anticipation and preparation for the Spousal Encounter.

From the perspective of Faith, every critical moment cooperates for good. It is a call and an opportunity to respond, not a permanent fear.

Son of Man

'Son of Man' is therefore not a 'religious' or selective title, but a possibility for all those who adhere to the Lord's proposal of life and reinterpret it in a creative way.

They overcome their fixed and natural boundaries, making room for the Gift; welcoming from God the fullness of being, in its new, unrepeatable paths.

Feeling totally and undeservedly loved, they discover other facets of themselves, change the way they are with themselves, and can grow: they fulfil themselves, blossom and radiate the completeness they have received.

By leaving behind the poor or static idea we have of ourselves—a serious problem in many sensitive and dedicated souls—even the relational personality can begin to imagine.

And dream, discovering that it no longer has to give weight to those who want to influence a person's journey (in the fullness of being and vocation).

Those who activate the idea that they can do it then transmit the power of the Spirit they have received and welcomed, and the world flourishes.

By emanating a different atmosphere, people who are integrated in all their aspects, even their opposite ones, feel awareness arise, create projects, emit and attract other energies, and activate them.

God wants to extend the sphere in which he 'reigns' - relating in an interpersonal way - to all humanity... A Church without visible boundaries, which will begin with the 'Son of Man' (a figure not exclusive to Jesus).

This universalistic perspective emerges, among other things, from Jesus' presentation of himself not only as 'Son of David' but as 'Son of Man' (Mk 10:33). The title 'Son of Man', in the language of Jewish apocalyptic literature inspired by the vision of history in the Book of the Prophet Daniel (cf. 7:13-14), refers to the figure who comes 'with the clouds of heaven' (v. 13) and is an image that heralds a completely new kingdom, a kingdom supported not by human powers, but by the true power that comes from God. Jesus uses this rich and complex expression and refers it to himself to reveal the true character of his messianism, as a mission destined for all people and for every person, overcoming all ethnic, national and religious particularism. And it is precisely in following Jesus, in allowing oneself to be drawn into his humanity and thus into communion with God, that one enters this new kingdom, which the Church proclaims and anticipates, and which overcomes fragmentation and dispersion.

[Pope Benedict, Consistory, 24 November 2012]

With the image of the Son of Man, the prophet Daniel already wanted to indicate a reversal of the criteria of authenticity (human and divine): a man or a people, a leader, finally with a heart of flesh instead of a beast.

In the icon of the 'Son of Man', the evangelists wish to reveal and trigger the triumph of the human over the inhuman, the gradual disappearance of everything that blocks the communication of full life.

The People who shine in a divine way are no longer entangled in fears or hysteria, but rather bring to the fore all their varied potential for love and the effusion of life.

The 'Son of Man' - a possible reality - is anyone who reaches fulfilment, the flowering of their capacity to be, in the extension of relationships... entering into harmony with the sphere of God the Creator, the Lover of life.

They do so in their varied facets, and merge with Him - becoming One. Creating abundance.

"Son of Man" is the man who behaves on earth as God himself would, who makes the divine and its power present in history.

He can therefore afford to replace the sombre seriousness of being pious and submissive with the wise light-heartedness that makes everything light.

"Son of Man" represents the highest form of humanity, the Person par excellence - who becomes liberating instead of oppressive.

The consequences are unimaginable, because each of us in Christ (and for our brothers and sisters) no longer has dead paths to retrace.

"Watch therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming" (Mt 24:42). Jesus, who came among us at Christmas and will return in glory at the end of time, never tires of visiting us continually, in the events of every day. He asks us and warns us to wait for him, keeping watch, because his coming cannot be planned or predicted, but will be sudden and unpredictable. Only those who are awake will not be caught off guard. He warns us not to let what happened in Noah's time happen to us, when people were eating and drinking carefree and were caught unprepared by the flood (cf. Mt 24:37-38). What does the Lord want us to understand with this warning, if not that we must not allow ourselves to be absorbed by material realities and concerns to the point of becoming ensnared?

"Watch therefore..." Let us listen to Jesus' invitation in the Gospel and prepare ourselves to relive with faith the mystery of the birth of the Redeemer, who filled the universe with joy; let us prepare ourselves to welcome the Lord in his unceasing coming to meet us in the events of life, in joy and in sorrow, in health and in sickness; let us prepare ourselves to meet him in his final coming. His passing is always a source of peace, and if suffering, the legacy of human nature, sometimes becomes almost unbearable, with the coming of the Saviour "suffering - without ceasing to be suffering - becomes, in spite of everything, a song of praise" (Encyclical Spe salvi, 37).

[Pope Benedict, homily at the Roman hospital of St. John the Baptist, 2 December 2007]