32nd Sunday 2023
Wisdom 6:12-16; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13
Eheu fugaces Postume Postume labuntur anni, as they say in Yealand, and as the Roman poet Horace wrote even earlier: “Alas, my old mate Postumus, the fleeting years slip by”.
This year of 2023 has almost slipped by: we are already deep into the month of remembering—of RE-MEMBERING, of putting together the “membra” or limbs, of the body of Christ—of that month which is sometimes called the kindest month, precisely because it is the month of remembering.
We have already celebrated the interrelated feasts of All Saints and All Souls, which remind us of our belonging to that one body of Christ with all who have gone before us, both those for whom their “perfection”, their “being thoroughly made”, is complete, and those for whom it is still a work in progress. We have remembered the Fifth of November, for what it is worth; and this weekend, we are remembering all who have died in war, and those who are still dying today.
Traditionally, we have devoted Remembrance Sunday to recalling and praying for enlisted people killed in battle, but the nature of modern warfare is such that the vast majority of casualties are now civilians, as we are seeing in Israel/Palestine, and in other parts of the world too numerous to mention, though we mustn’t forget Ukraine, where Putin’s aggression continues to fuel a mounting death toll. There are so many victims to remember, so many conflicts about which to pray for a just and enduring peace.
Here in the northern hemisphere, nature too reminds us of the dying of the year, and hence of our own mortality. Vast quantities of leaves have already fallen, with the remainder to follow; the temperature is dropping and the days are growing shorter. The aches and pains of passing years are exacerbated by cold and damp, and soon footsteps will become more tentative as ice lays traps for the unwary.
Our scripture readings too take on an eschatological or “end of things” tone, which will carry us through the early days of Advent, reminding us that it is a season for preparing not only to recollect the first coming of Christ, but also to ready ourselves for His inevitable second coming; and to be alert to recognise his present coming in every moment and situation of our lives.
Along with remembrance, I would say that alertness is the key word today. It is a word which reminds me of a car sticker which I spotted many years ago—“Be alert: your country needs lerts”—but which carries a vital message: vital in the literal sense of essential for life.
Our first reading, from the Book of Wisdom, gives us the specific instruction “Be on the alert”, while St. Paul’s meditation on death has a similar undertone. Clearly, it is the message of the Gospel parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids, the later being condemned because they have lacked the gumption to make basic preparations for what is to come. The concluding sentence begins with a word here translated “Stay awake”, which would be better translated “be alert” because both sets of bridesmaids have slept, but the wise have had the sense to make preparations. We are left in no doubt about our own responsibilities, as the sentence ends “because you know neither the day nor the hour”.
Be alert, though, for what? Clearly, for the coming of Christ, but when? At the end of our lives certainly, for which we need to prepare now, as the foolish bridesmaids failed to do, by striving to follow God’s call each day; but that “each day” takes us further and deeper. Christ comes to us in every situation, every moment, every person that we encounter. If we are not alert, we shall fail to recognise Him; we shall fail to respond to His call. And if we are not sufficiently alert to respond to Him now, then the danger is increased that His final coming will find us unprepared.
