19th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C) : Homily / Sermon

"If the householder had known at what hour the burglar would come, he would not have let anyone break through the wall of his house."  (Luke 12:38)

Photo by Victor Garcia on Unsplash

If you’ve even been burgled, you might have some idea of what he means. Though it is usually a case of closing the stable door when the horse has bolted, once someone has entered your house and stolen from you, you become very aware that it could happen again, that the visitors may return, and though they probably won’t, you fear them and try to be ready for them. 

Jesus certainly has a way with words, and in his teaching he uses examples, makes comparisons with life which are sometimes strange and sometimes shocking. 

He compares the faithful Christian to a fraudulent steward; 

he compares God listening to our prayers, to the bad tempered neighbour reluctant to stir from sleep, 

He says the rich, privileged and respected members of society will find it as hard to enter heaven as a camel could pass through the eye of a needle,

and here he says that the coming of the Son of Man, the return of Jesus at the end of time, will be like the visit of an unexpected burglar. 

Why does Jesus use this image? 

It is unfortunate, I think, that Christians who have tried to take passages like this seriously, have often concentrated on the wrong thing. They have focussed on the day and the time when Jesus will return: the end is nigh, they have proclaimed at street corners, from sandwich boards and sometimes on our doorsteps, because of course there is little point talking about the day and the time of Jesus’ return unless it is very soon. 

But the point of all these passages is not the date and the time for the second coming of Christ but of our readiness to meet him. 

It is not about watching clocks, but healing hearts. 

Here is the question he asks: are we prepared for him? Are we ready to greet him? The trouble is, much as we want to meet Christ we are never quite ready for him. It was St Augustine who said "Lord, give me chastity, but not yet!" We want to delay the moment, put off the day. The great Roman Emperor Constantine, the one who took Christianity from an illegal practice to the official religion, was baptised only on his deathbed. Others too, wait till moments of safety or the quietness of a kind of retirement to take the Big Step. 

We are good at putting things off: while we are on holiday we can be absolutely certain we will be dieting in January, going dry in February, and giving up smoking in Lent, but today … today … we will carry on as usual. 

And the same is true of our spiritual lives: so many of us, perhaps most of us, make compromises and excuses, and  tell ourselves we’ll sort it out later. 

Yes, the fear of the burglar passes, and as we settle back into our routine. We cut corners again and take chances, forget to bolt the doors, and lock the windows. 

But for Christ we must always be vigilant - not because he might catch us out, but because it is right to be ready now. Honesty cannot wait for our death beds. Compassion does not only come with contrition. Saying sorry is easy, but living a caring, devoted and prayerful life requires something more. 

Our good intentions, our virtues, Are not tomorrow’s todo list, for some later life, after life, but for now, because God is with us not only tomorrow, but very much today.