Waiting for The Lord

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

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In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that You are here, that You see me, that You hear me. I adore You with profound reverence. I ask Your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, St. Joseph my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

We’re told in St. Luke, “Let your loins be girt about you and your lamps burning. You yourselves be like men waiting for their master’s return from the wedding, so that when he comes and knocks, you may straightaway open to him” (Luke 12:35).

The words of Scripture remind us that life on earth is a short wait for the Lord’s return. The faith which guides our footsteps is precisely “the certainty in things hoped for,” as St. Paul says to the Hebrews (Heb. 1:1).

By means of this theological virtue, the Christian acquires a firm certainty in regard to Our Lord’s promises and a certain possession in advance of the divine gifts.

St. Thomas Aquinas says through faith, we know with certainty two fundamental truths of human existence: that we are made for heaven, and therefore all else should be ordered and subordinated to this supreme end; and that Our Lord wants to help us reach this end with an abundance of supernatural means (cf. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, II-II, Question 17).

Nothing should dishearten us on the road to sanctity because, as Pope John Paul I said, we lean on “three basic truths: God is all-powerful; God has a great love for me; God is faithful to his promises. It is He, the God of mercy, who fills me with confidence. With him, I do not feel alone, or useless, or abandoned, but involved in a plan of salvation which one day will lead to Paradise” (John Paul I, Address, September 20, 1978).

The goodness, the wisdom, and omnipotence of God are the firm basis of human hope.

We’re told that God is all-powerful by one particular writer: “To him everything is subject—the wind, the seas, health and sickness, the heavens and the earth ... He uses and disposes everything for the salvation of my soul and of all men. He does not fail to look after the good of each of his children, even those who seem most alone and abandoned. God places his strength at the service of the salvation and sanctification of men.

“Only the misuse of freedom can render God’s help sterile. But forgiveness is always possible. It is always possible to open the doors to let hope enter in. God is all-powerful. He can do everything; He is our Father and He is Love” (Gonzalo Redondo, Reasons for Hope).

God has a great love for me, as if each one of us were His only child. He never abandons us in our pilgrimage on earth. He looks for us when through our own fault we have lost Him. He loves us with deeds, disposing everything for the good of each of our souls. The love of our earthly mother and father, with all its warmth, is only a pale reflection of God’s love.

God is faithful to His promises, in spite of our failings and lack of loyalty, and our lack of correspondence to what He asks. He never fails us. He does not tire. He has patience—infinite patience—with men.

While we walk on this earth, He does not abandon anyone; no one is a hopeless case, a lost cause. God is always the Father of the prodigal son, the Father who daily looks out impatiently, waiting for His son’s return. He has a feast prepared for his arrival.

One writer says: “Our Lord awaits our sincere conversion and more generous correspondence. He wants us to be always vigilant and not fall into lukewarmness. Hope is intimately related with vigilance and depends to a great extent on love” (cf. Josef Pieper, Hope).

Jesus encourages us to be vigilant because the enemy never rests. He tells us in the Letter of St. Peter that the enemy is always on the prowl (1 Pet. 5:8), and in the Canticle of Canticles, because love never sleeps (cf. Cant. 5:2).

And so, Our Lord warns us in St. Luke, “Let your loins be girt about you and your lamps burning. You yourselves be like men waiting for their master’s return from the wedding, so that when he comes and knocks, you may straightaway open to him” (Luke 12:35).

In those days, the Jews wore loose-fitting garments, and a belt was used in order to walk and perform certain chores comfortably. To “gird one’s loins” was a graphic example of the need to prepare for a journey, to dispose oneself for the struggle. Similarly, to “keep the lamps burning” is the attitude of one who keeps watch for or awaits the arrival of another.

One of the ways that we keep vigilant is to keep our souls in the state of grace. It’s the regular reception of the sacrament of Confession, and of taking care to receive the other sacraments regularly, so that we always have in mind on a daily basis where we are headed.

John Paul II says there are three key questions that each human person must keep asking themselves throughout their life: Where have I come from? Where am I going? What is my life all about?

And on the answer to those questions, he says, to a certain extent, will depend the happiness that we achieve in this world (cf. John Paul II, Encyclical, Fides et Ratio, Point 1, September 14, 1988).

We have to know where we’re going. We have to be vigilant. We have to take care that we stay on the road to get to where we’re going.

Throughout Scripture we are reminded that when Our Lord comes at the end of our lives, He should find us prepared, awake, and vigilant, like someone who lives for that day, serving out of love and determined to direct earthly realities—without losing our supernatural outlook—directing everything towards our true end.

He should find us giving due value to earthly affairs—professional work, business, rest—without forgetting that none of this has an absolute value, but should instead help us to love God more, to win heaven, and serve others better, making the world a more just, human, and Christian place.

And so one of the traps we should be careful of is a certain professionalitis: thinking that our work, the things we do there, are the be-all and the end-all of our life. Or giving too much importance to other realities that in themselves may be very good and have great purposes, but are just a means. Maybe they have a very relative value.

Sometimes when you watch a football match, or you see the way that people follow certain games, it’s almost as if they make a religion out of their following of that particular sport. Enthusiasm, commitment, interest, enjoyment—all these things are wonderful things, but we are here on this planet for much, much more.

Little time separates us from that definitive encounter with Christ. We are wayfarers. We’re on a journey. Each day that passes brings us a little closer to eternity. It may come for us this year or the following one.

With each year that passes, we should have firmer determination and desires to reach the goal of our Christian vocation, which is holiness and apostolate.

Whenever that time comes, it might always seem that life has passed too quickly. St. Josemaría in The Way has a phrase where he says, “How little a life is to offer to God!” (Josemaría Escrivá, The Way, Point 420). Perhaps when the years pass, we realize the veracity of those words.

The Lord will come at the second or third watch. “Since…we do not know the day nor the hour (Matt. 25:13), Our Lord wants us to be constantly vigilant so that once we have completed our only time on earth (Heb. 9:27), we may go to the wedding feast and be counted as one of the chosen” (Vatican II, Lumen gentium, Point 48, November 21, 1964).

John Paul II liked to say that the real marriage comes later. Marriage in this world is just a preparation for marriage in the next.

So, if there’s something that goes wrong with our marriage here, or there’s something we never dreamt would happen to us, we have the consolation of knowing that this is just a preparation. In fact, it may be the means for us to achieve that eternal marriage in heaven. People who lead celibate lives, he said, give witness to the fact that the real marriage comes later.

For those who have preferred to live with their backs to God, He may arrive completely unexpectedly, as “a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:2).

I was called one night on duty to see a man who was dying of cancer. He was going to die that night. He took hold of my wrist and, with a look of terror in his eyes, he said, “Doctor, don’t let me die.”

He was well-to-do, he was in the best hospital in the country, but it was though at the hour of his death he realized that he was not prepared. All his treasures were in this world.

It came to mind that phrase of Scripture: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where dust and moth consume and thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven…” (Matt. 6:19-20).

Every hour of every day is an opportunity for us to be spiritually rich, to store up those treasures in heaven, to make that great and worthwhile investment.

“Know this,” says St. John Chrysostom, “if the owner of the house knows at what time the thief were to arrive, he would not allow him to steal his belongings. You, therefore. be prepared...” (John Chrysostom, Catena aurea, Volume 3).

And St. John Chrysostom comments that “with this, those who place greater care in guarding their riches than their soul from the thief are confused” (ibid.).

“An attitude of vigilance,” says St. Thomas, “is opposed to negligence or carelessness which denote a certain weakness of the will” (Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, II-II, Question 54).

This is one of the reasons why doing a yearly retreat, from the time we are in secondary school to the end of our lives, is a very worthwhile practice and investment. Having a monthly recollection to remind us of these realities—we need to be reminded.

We are vigilant when we deepen our daily examination of conscience, when we take a good look at the way we behave, our attitudes to this or to that, or how we put certain virtues into practice.

St. Josemaría said, “You will see that you are full of faults that harm you and perhaps also those around you. —Remember, my child, that microbes may be no less a menace than wild beasts. Just as bacteria are cultivated in a laboratory, so you are cultivating those faults and those errors with your lack of humility, with your lack of prayer, with your failure to fulfill your duty, with your lack of self-knowledge” (J. Escrivá, The Forge, Point 481).

Again, a yearly retreat, a monthly recollection can open our eyes to who we really are.

Socrates had a phrase where he said: “Know thyself.” We might know an awful lot of things about the workings of this planet, but we might not know ourselves. And so those tiny microbes, those tiny germs—they can spread everywhere.

St. Josemaria continues in The Forge: “You need to make a good examination of conscience every day. It will lead you to make definite resolutions to improve, because it will have made you really sorry for your shortcomings, omissions, and sins” (ibid.).

The Lord should find us prepared at whatever hour He chooses to call us.

We will be vigilant in love and far from lukewarm if we remain faithful in the little things of each day. If we consider these little details in the examination of conscience, we’ll easily find the signals that show us the way and those which may lead us astray.

Little things are the prelude to greater things, and loving vigilance feeds upon them. He who pays no attention to things that appear to lack importance falls into the greatest temptations.

St. Francis de Sales emphasizes the importance of conquering in small temptations, for there are many occasions to do so during the day, and many small victories in small things can be more important than a single great victory.

Moreover, says St. Francis de Sales, even though “wolves and bears are undoubtedly more dangerous than flies, they never cause as much discomfort or impatience. It is easy to avoid homicide, but how difficult it can be to avoid anger over little things. It is easy to avoid stealing our neighbor’s belongings, but difficult it is at times not to desire them. It is easy not to spread false rumors about our neighbor, but difficult to avoid lying in our conversations. We can easily avoid drunkenness, but how difficult it can be at times to live sobriety” (cf. Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life).

Small daily victories strengthen the interior life and make the soul more sensitive to divine things. There are common situations: living the heroic minute on waking or starting our work; overcoming our curiosity by putting down that frivolous magazine that, at best, may be a waste of time; offering a small mortification at meals; living sobriety during a social engagement; offering pleasant conversation to others.

We can be certain that “for all the battles we win against those small enemies there will be a precious stone placed in the crown of glory that God prepares for us in his holy kingdom” (ibid.).

If we make an act of love with each temptation, with all those things in ourselves or others that may separate us from God, we will be filled with peace, and that which could have been an offense against God will turn into a victory. Furthermore, writes St. Francis, “when the devil sees that his temptation moves us to love God, he will cease to tempt us” (ibid.).

If we are faithful in little things, we will be girded, vigilant, on the alert when Our Lord arrives. Our life will have been a joyful wait while we joyfully carry out the task Our Lord has entrusted to us in this world.

Then we will fully understand the words of Jesus: “Happy the servant whom his master finds in this way on his return. Truly I say to you, he shall be placed at the head of all his possessions” (Matt. 24:46-47). His arrival is near at hand; we should always remain vigilant.

In St. Matthew, we’re told: “Watch therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But know this, that if the householder had known in what part of night the thief was coming, he would have watched and would not have allowed his house to be broken into” (Matt. 24:42-43).

For the Christian who remains awake, the last day will not come “like a thief in the night,” as St. Paul says to the Thessalonians (1 Thess. 5:2). There will be no panic or confusion, because each day will have been an encounter with God in the simple and everyday business of living.

You could say that the whole Gospel is a call for us to remain awake, watchful, and on guard against the enemy who never sleeps. That decisive moment when we have to present ourselves before God with our hands filled with the fruits of a Christian life will arrive when we least expect it.

St. Paul talks about the watchfulness of the person on guard duty that doesn’t allow himself to be taken by surprise (cf. 1 Thess. 5:4-11).

He frequently speaks about the Christian life as someone being on guard, like a soldier on active service. The Christian lives frugally and is not easily surprised by the enemy because he is awake through prayer and mortification.

Our Lord warns us in many ways, in different parables, against negligence, carelessness, and half-hearted love. A loving heart is a vigilant heart, both over itself and over others, because God also expects us to be watchful and on guard over those who are especially united to us by bonds of faith, of blood, and of friendship.

When Our Lord speaks about the coming of the thief in the night, He’s teaching us not to allow ourselves to be distracted from the great enterprise of our salvation. He doesn’t want us to think of vigilance merely as something negative—to watch doesn’t just mean to stay awake for fear of what might happen if we fell asleep.

To watch “means being alert, on the qui vive; it means craning your neck out of the window,” says Ronald Knox, “in the hope that you will be the first to cry out, ‘Look! He’s coming!’” (Ronald Knox, A Retreat for Lay People).

To watch means to be looking forward with eager expectation to Our Lord’s coming. It means striving with all our strength to bring Jesus all the people entrusted to our care, and many others besides.

Thanks to the Communion of Saints, we’re like the sentry who raises the alarm when he spots the enemy, or the lookout who waits expectantly for his Master’s arrival in order to announce the Good News to all.

Our model is that prudent servant who has been placed in charge of his Master’s estate and who, while awaiting his return, spends his time “doing a hundred little jobs against time; always something to be dusted here, a floor to be polished there, a fire to be made up somewhere else, so that the house shall look a hundred percent welcoming when he steps inside.

“Each of us has got a job to do; each of us should be inspired to do it better, especially if it looks as if we hadn’t got much time in which to do it” (ibid.).

To watch, to be alert, we have to overcome sleepiness and lukewarmness. We do this by struggling to put into practice the things we hear in spiritual direction, by having a clearly defined particular examination, and by being diligent in our general examination.

The early Christians fulfilled Our Lord’s commandment to love (John 13:34) so well that the pagans were able to recognize them by the love they had for one another, and by their universally courteous behavior. Their charity was expressed in their concern for one another’s needs, and, in times of difficulty, by helping all their brothers and sisters to remain steadfast in the faith.

There existed among them the custom which Tertullian called the statio, a military term meaning “being on guard,” of fasting and doing penance twice a week with the aim of preparing to receive the Blessed Eucharist with greater purity of soul and of praying for those who were in even greater danger or need.

Early Christian documents give us information on these matters. Tertullian writes: “See how they love one another and are ready to die for one another…. As regards the term ‘brethren’ whereby we address one another, they form a mistaken idea. … By the law of nature, our common mother, they too are our brethren, but with much greater reason do we call brethren those who acknowledge God as our common Father, who imbibe the same Spirit of holiness, those who, having emerged from the same womb of ignorance, gaze in wonderment at the same light of truth” (Tertullian, Apologeticus).

If we suffer because of mankind’s neediness, how are we not going to have a vigilant charity towards those who share our own ideals?

It can be useful therefore, as it was for the first Christians, to have a fixed day of the week on which to be even more vigilant to the needs of our brothers and sisters in the faith, helping them with even more fervent prayer, with an even greater spirit of penance, with more signs of esteem than ever. It means being especially vigilant in our charity towards the people for whom we have a greater obligation in duty, like the sentry who guards the camp, like the alert lookout watching for the enemy’s approach.

St. Josemaría in The Way says, “Brother helped by a brother is like a walled city. Think for a moment and make up your mind to live the fraternal spirit I have always asked of you” (J. Escrivá, The Way, Point 460).

And so, we could try to have times when we are more vibrant in charity, with our example, with many simple services to other people, with small mortifications that make life pleasant for others; a day in which we ask ourselves whether we help those who need it with fraternal correction; a day in which we have more frequent recourse to Our Lady, Harbor of the Shipwrecked, Consolation of the World, Ransom of Captives, Joy of the Sick, as St. Alphonsus Liguori liked to call her (Alphonsus Liguori, Visits to the Blessed Sacrament).

Or saying the Rosary, or perhaps a Memorare, praying to her for the person we know needs some special help at that moment.

And so, Mary, may you help us to grow in that spirit of vigilance, always waiting for Our Lord, knowing that He may come at any moment, so that we take very good care of our soul and help many other people around us to take care of their souls also.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

JM