First Sunday of Advent

Reading: Isaiah 2:1-5; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:37-44

We begin a new liturgical year today, and the Church greets us with a powerful and unsettling Gospel:

“Stay awake, for you do not know the day your Lord is coming.”

This is how Advent begins – not with shepherds, angels, or a manger, but with Jesus speaking about His second coming.

At first, this can feel strange. We expect soft carols and candles; instead we hear about a thief in the night and a sudden judgment. But the Church, like a good mother, knows something important:

We cannot welcome Christ at Christmas unless our hearts are awake and alert.

Advent is not merely a countdown to December 25. It is a season of expectant waiting, of journeying toward the coming of the Messiah.

The word Advent comes from the Latin adventus, meaning “coming.” So, in the season of Advent, we are waiting for the coming of someone. The coming of savior. In Advent we reflect on three comings of Christ:

·       His first coming in history – born in Bethlehem.

·       His coming in mystery – in the Sacraments, Scriptures, and community of faith.

·       His Second Coming in majesty – when He will judge the living and the dead.

Early Christians prepared for this coming through prayer and fasting. St. Gregory of Tours writes in the late 400s that the Bishop St. Perpetuus ordered a three-week fast before Christmas. By 567 the Council of Tours instructed monks to fast from December 1 until Christmas. From the beginning, Advent has been a time of vigilance, conversion, and longing.

And we understand waiting. We wait for healing… for jobs… for children to return home… for decisions… even in lines and traffic. Sometimes, waiting frustrates us. But when we know whom, we are waiting for, waiting becomes hopeful and joyful.

The waiting of a Christian is not a passive waiting devoid of any creative activity. It is not a waiting in laziness. But this waiting is an invitation to walk in the ways of the Lord, the way of justice, the way of charity, the way of forgiveness, the way of simplicity and the way of altruism.

All the three readings of today describe the manner how our waiting should be! -Not passively, but with purpose.

In the first reading, we hear Isaiah’s beautiful invitation an invitation addressed not only to ancient Israel, but to us, the Church beginning a new liturgical year: “Come, let us go to the mountain of the Lord… that He may teach us His ways, so that we may walk in His paths… O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.”

Isaiah reminds us that true Advent waiting is not passive. It is not sitting still, wishing time away, or waiting for God to act while we remain unchanged.

Advent waiting is movement, “Come, let us go…”

It is learning – “that He may teach us His ways…”

It is conversion – “that we may walk in His paths…”

And finally, it is living in the light – “let us walk in the light of the Lord.”

Advent is not a season of standing still; it is a season of taking steps toward God. Every day we either move closer to Christ or drift farther away. Isaiah calls us to make our waiting active, hopeful, and filled with desire.

We walk toward the Lord by choosing justice, practicing mercy, slowing down to pray, returning to confession, and allowing God’s Word to shape our decisions.

In this season, as we wait for the Savior, the question is not simply:

“What am I waiting for?” but “Who am I becoming as I wait?”

The second reading from St. Paul’s Letter to the Romans is a spiritual wake-up call and it urges us to turn away from the darkness of sin and evil and walk into the light of Christ.

Paul urges us to cast off “the works of darkness” and to “put on the armor of light.” To be a Christian is to live in the light and walk in the light, to let Christ’s presence push back the shadows in our lives, shadows of resentment, discouragement, secret sins, spiritual laziness, and the habits that block His grace. Advent is the time to honestly ask ourselves:

What in my life keeps me spiritually asleep?

When we choose the light, through confession, forgiveness, prayer, charity, and self-discipline, we don’t just “wait” for Christ; we prepare a space within us for Him to shine.

Jesus, in today’s Gospel, calls each of us to “watch” to stay spiritually awake, even when the world is lulled by distractions or dulled by routine. This simple word, “watch,” rings out with urgency and hope, inviting us to deeper awareness of God’s power and love at work in our lives.

Jesus says, “Of that day and hour no one knows.”

Jesus purposely leaves the day unknown so that we disciples, – ignorant of the timing are motivated to live always ready for His return, turning uncertainty into vigilant faithfulness

Jesus hides the hour of His return because He knows how easily the human heart falls asleep. If we knew the exact day, we would postpone conversion, delay repentance, and waste precious time. So, He lovingly leaves the hour unknown, so that every day might be a day of grace, a day of readiness.

After explaining this mystery, Jesus gives a simple command:

“Watch, therefore.”

Origen invites us to imagine ourselves as both the master and the watchman of our soul. Our “house” is our inner life: what we think, what we love, and how we hope. The “thief” is not only the devil, but also any false teaching, temptation, or despair that seeks to undermine true understanding and hope.

Just as a master keeps vigilant watch over his home lest thieves break in, so each Christian must cultivate a watchful spirit through prayer, examination of conscience, and openness to Christ.

St. Gregory the Great reminds us that true “watching” is not merely looking outward for signs but casting off the “darkness of sloth and negligence” within ourselves. It means opening our eyes to God’s light, choosing to live by the faith we profess, and walking each day in repentance and hope. Faith is not passive; it is a living, active readiness a heart eager for God’s presence and alert against whatever would separate us from Christ.

As Advent people, let us keep careful watch. Let our understanding not sleep; let our hearts remain open to the “Sun of righteousness.” Let our waiting be active, expectant, and prayerful, resistant to all that would diminish our spiritual home. Christ comes quietly and unexpectedly.

May our souls be found awake, guarded, and glowing with faith and hope.

This Advent may our waiting be filled not with anxiety, but with joyful hope confident that Christ who came, and comes, will come again.

And may He find us ready and awake, living daily in faith, hope, and love.