Over the last several weeks as we near the end of the liturgical year, the Church has chosen readings that are quite apocalyptic. The readings from the Book of Daniel and the gospels – are they meant to scare us into fearful compliance with the demands of God? The imagery easily serves as a source of all manner of end times predictions of death, doom and despair. Yet, that is not the reason why the Church selected these readings. What is common to all the apocalyptic texts is the final triumph of God. We are called to turn our eyes toward the final triumph of God and to recall where our hope truly lies.
Daniel lived in chaotic times. We live in chaotic times. Think of the past year: wars in Ukraine, Gaza and Israel, Syria, Myanmar, Sudan, Yemeni, Haiti, Ethiopia, Rwanda, and Congo – and those are state actors. There are all kinds of conflicts among non-state actors. Sabre rattling, trade wars, the war on drugs, gun violence, political acrimony reaching ever new levels of accusation and calumny.
There’s a word you don’t hear much. Calumny: the act of maliciously misrepresenting someone’s conduct to harm that person’s reputation. There are days when I think the majority of political party statements are calumnious in their nature.
In Daniel’s vision the chaos arose from the sea, the usual source of such Old Testament beasts. In Scripture, the sea represents chaos, evil, and the forces that oppose God. The beasts symbolize earthly political and military empires – violent, unstable, rising and falling with history. And yet, after all the terrifying beasts, Daniel suddenly says: “As the visions during the night continued, I was watching and saw one like a Son of Man coming… He received dominion, glory, and kingship” (Dan 7:13–14).
This is the heart of the reading: human kingdoms rise and fall, but God’s kingdom, given to the Son of Man, endures forever. Daniel and all the prophets remind us that the last word is not chaos, but Christ and the Kingdom.
It is easy to be mesmerized by the chaos. It is like watching a tornado; we just can’t seem to look away. In the Gospel Jesus uses the fig tree to remind us to learn to see God at work: “When you see it put forth leaves, you know that summer is near. In the same way, when you see these things happening, know that the kingdom of God is near” (Lk 21:30-31). Jesus is telling us to read the signs, to learn how God works in our lives.
The fig tree does not leaf out suddenly. It happens quietly, gradually, almost unnoticed. The same way God’s grace unfolds in our lives. It is there amidst the chaos in a world full of noise, fear, and “beasts” of every kind such as division, conflict, sin, moral and confusion. Mixed right in with signs of His presence: acts of charity, the persistence of faith, forgiveness offered, hope renewed and much more.
Tornadoes demand our attention. Signs of the kingdom demand no such thing but patiently wait to be noticed.
Like the first reading, the gospel is a call to hopeful watchfulness. Daniel says: “Do not be afraid of the beasts; God remains King.” Jesus says: “Watch with faith; the Kingdom is already blossoming.”
Each reading proclaims: no matter how dark the world seems, God’s Kingdom is closer than we think. It is already growing, becoming, patiently waiting for us to spread its borders. “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” (Lk 21:33).
Empires pass. Cultures pass. Trends pass. Even our worries pass. But Christ’s word, His promise, His presence – these do not pass away.
We can name the beast, the chaos and our fears. But where might we also see the first small leaves of the Kingdom God is quietly unfolding? We need not deny the reality of struggle. But we are not defined by it.
We are defined by the Son of Man who already reigns and who already draws near.
Image credit: Flevit super illam (He wept over it) | Enrique Simonet (1892) | Museo del Prado, Madrid | Wikimedia Creative Commons | PD-US
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