Feria II infra Hebdomadam I Adventus – III Classis
Scripture: Romans 13:11–14; Luke 21:25–33
“Brethren: Knowing the time, that it is now the hour for us to rise from sleep. For now our salvation is nearer than when we believed.”
— Romans 13:11
“And then they shall see the Son of man coming in a cloud, with great power and majesty… Heaven and earth shall pass away: but My words shall not pass away.”
— Luke 21:27, 33
Advent begins not with quiet nativity scenes or gentle shepherds, but with the urgent voice of the Apostle and the dread majesty of the Lord returning in judgment. On this first Monday of the holy season of preparation, the Church places before us a stark summons: “It is now the hour to rise from sleep.”
The readings from Romans and Luke unite to awaken us from complacency, drawing our eyes not only to Bethlehem, but beyond — to the clouds of glory on the Last Day. This eschatological tone reminds us that Advent is not merely a preparation for the celebration of Christ’s first coming, but also a vigilant anticipation of His second and glorious return.
“Salvation is nearer now…”
St. Paul’s admonition in Romans 13 calls each soul to conversion in urgency, for the “night is far spent, the day is at hand.” The Fathers of the Church echo this call with power and clarity.
St. Augustine, preaching in Advent, exhorts:
“Let us then arise, for the night is far spent. Let us cast away the works of darkness — drunkenness, impurity, contention — and put on the armor of light, the Lord Jesus Christ.”
(Sermon 1 on Advent)
He saw Advent as a mirror of the Christian life itself — a time of expectant penance, in which we strive to be found watching, not slumbering, when the Lord returns. The “sleep” St. Paul warns against is not mere rest, but spiritual torpor — indifference, habitual sin, and attachment to the things of the world.
The “armor of light” is not abstract. As St. Cyril of Jerusalem teaches in his Catechetical Lectures,
“Put on Christ, not in name only, but in deed; imitate His meekness and patience, His purity and obedience.”
“There shall be signs…”
The Gospel from Luke 21 paints in apocalyptic colors. Christ speaks of cosmic signs, fear, and distress, images that to modern ears may seem remote or exaggerated. Yet the Fathers saw these not as mere distant warnings, but as daily realities that mirror the soul’s inner conflict.
St. Gregory the Great, in a homily on this Gospel, remarks:
“These signs in sun, moon, and stars can be interpreted also of the Church. The sun is the light of faith; the moon, the soul illuminated by grace; the stars, the saints who shine. When these grow dim in the hearts of men, when virtue is lost, then truly the end draws near — either for the world or for that soul.”
(Homilia in Evangelia I, 1)
Thus, Advent becomes a time not only to gaze heavenward in expectation, but to look inward — examining our fidelity, our discipline, our readiness. Are we “standing upright,” as Our Lord commands? Are our hearts weighed down by “cares of this life” (cf. Luke 21:34)?
“Heaven and earth shall pass away…”
All created things will pass — nations, wealth, even the material cosmos — but not one word of Christ shall pass away. This unshakeable foundation is what sustains us amid the shaking of all else. The traditional Advent liturgy is filled with this longing for the eternal: “Rorate caeli desuper…” — “Drop down dew, ye heavens, from above…” The dew we long for is not comfort, but Christ Himself, descending anew upon the soul.
Let us then watch, fast, pray. Let us rise from sloth, confess our sins, and walk in the light of penance and hope. The season has begun; salvation is nearer now. The Judge comes — but so does the Bridegroom.
“Let your loins be girt, and your lamps burning in your hands…”
— Luke 12:35