2 SAMUEL
7: 1-16 - A House to Dwell In
During the Season of Advent, we prepare for the coming of the Lord particularly in commemoration of his Nativity, but also for his Second Coming. There’s a big difference, though, in the way we live out the season of Advent and how we prepare ourselves for Christ’s Second Coming. In Advent, we know when the season will end and when Christ comes. At his Second Coming, there will be no warning, so we must make sure that we are waiting and preparing constantly. The Christian life is a life of Advent lived out; although the liturgical season uniquely ends on the last Sunday of Advent, we must carry the spirit of Advent with us everyday for the rest of our lives; we cannot allow the spirit of the season of Advent to be exclusive to a few weeks in December. We do not know the day or the hour when our time on earth comes to an end, so we must be prepared.
We can misunderstand the season of Advent in two ways: first, we may treat it as the insignificant time period before we celebrate the wonderful Solemnity and season of Christmas. However, we may also get so wrapped up in the idea of Advent being a season of preparation that we ignore the fact that Christ is already present among us. Yes, we will be preparing for his Second Coming and remembering his Incarnation, but if we want to have a proper mentality when he returns, our treatment of him as he presents himself to the world right now is a good indication of how we would have treated him when he lived on earth. How do you treat the Eucharist? Do you believe in the Real Presence? Do you receive the Eucharist frequently and faithfully just as you would have received Jesus as a man? Do you treat the Eucharist as something unimportant or not worthy of much attention? Do you receive it when you shouldn’t? Do you spend time worshiping and adoring the Eucharist? The Eucharist is how we can gauge our position of preparedness for the second coming of Christ in full glory. It is the fullness of his presence here on earth, so we ought to treat it as such. Before Christ, the Jews had a very similar physical relationship with God through the Ark of the Covenant. Unlike the Eucharist, the Ark of the Covenant was not God itself, but rather His throne or resting place on earth. Since God had such an intimately close relationship with Israel, His presence was continuous at this holy seat. King David realizes that if he really believed what he claimed to believe about the Ark, he needs to build a Temple for it rather than just utilizing the portable tabernacle. If you really believed what you claimed about the Eucharist, would you make your own body a proper and permanent Temple for the presence of God?
As a response to David, God speaks through Nathan, reminding him about the history of the Jews, His constant presence among them, and the fulfillment of His promises to them. When all that the Jews offered to God was a portable tent to house His throne on earth, He loved and accepted it with His entire Being. He moved with them, stayed with them wherever they went, never leaving them nor turning His back on them. When they offered something permanent and holy in the form of the Temple, God became a fixed presence in their Land. Essentially, God reveals to us that He will work with and through whatever we offer Him. Are you a solid foundation for Him to build upon and to make His presence known to others, or are you someone who treats your own role in sharing God as frivolous and insignificant? Advent is meant to make us aware that we are not preparing to just be recipients or witnesses to Christ’s return; we are the instruments He uses now to be present in the world at this moment. We must be useful to him so that the thought of his coming is a moment of hope for the world.
A Solid Dwelling
When so much of human culture is formed and defined by archetypes that come from our seemingly implicit knowledge, it is only natural for us to realize that this must come from our Creator. For example, humans have always recognized the divine and have always acknowledged that there is a clear gap between our humble dwellings on earth and the magnificence of the dwellings reserved for the divine. In Greek mythology, the gods lived on Mount Olympus far above the simple communities of mere humans. In Judeo-Christian beliefs, God resides in Heaven while we live down here on earth. Because this pattern is repeatedly found in human stories about the divine, there must be something innately true about it: God dwells in a place far beyond our reach or our worthiness.
Judaism, however, introduced a revolutionary approach to divinity; the Jewish God clearly loved His creation and deeply desired to play an active role in its development. Beginning with Moses and the Ark of the Covenant, God decided to live amongst His people as a sign of His unending love and care for them. For centuries, the Ark travelled with God’s people who eventually settled down in the land of Canaan. It was here that King David, out of that innate human understanding that God’s dwelling place should be far more majestic than even the most powerful human’s, considered building a solid structure to house this Ark rather than the tent that was commonly used. Through the prophet Nathan, God told David that He gave His people their home and was with them through it all. Regardless of whether David were to build a solid dwelling for Him or not, God would reside among His people in a permanent way that no building or structure could outlast. This was God’s promise to David: the Savior would be how He remains permanently with His people.
Unlike every other archetype about divinity in human history, the Judeo-Christian God served His creation out of love rather than demand that His creation serve Him out of domination. The Savior, the person of Jesus Christ, would be God’s lasting presence with His people, both in the true human person of Jesus and in the sacrament of the Eucharist. Majestic temples were built as God’s dwelling place but were eventually destroyed. Ornate churches and impressive cathedrals were raised up to house the Eucharist, but many have since gone to ruin or have been reappropriated by secular societies. Just as it was with the tent in the wilderness, God chose a simple and humble dwelling place to reside in when he came to us - within the womb of a young woman conceived without sin. In her sinlessness, Mary embodies the archetypical majesty of human understanding regarding the distance between divinity and humanity, while at the same time embodying the simplicity that God chose to take on out of His love for His creation.
12: 1-7 - An Opportunity for Redemption
Power is a dangerous tool for any human to possess. We are capable of sin, and the origin of all sin seems to be a motivation for self-promotion at the expense of others. When anyone is given power, that power is over others; it can be used for good or it can be abused for self-promotion. There are people in history who have been given immense power and have done wonderful, life-saving things with it. But there are also people who have been corrupted by the power that they have had over others. Our personal sins are also a result of a form of power within ourselves. We have free will, which means we have power over our own actions. There is nobody forcing us to make good and virtuous choices, which means that we use the power of our free will to choose between good and evil.
Jesus said in the Gospels that to the one who has, more will be given, and from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away. This is such a difficult idea for us to accept when we consider justice. However, it makes sense when we hear these words in the context of sin and choice. When we sin by choosing evil over good, we become more susceptible to choosing evil again. When we choose good over evil, we train ourselves to maintain a desire for the good, forming a proper conscience and propagating the will of God. Essentially, those who sin tend to continue to sin until they are entirely corrupt and those who make good choices tend to continue to make good choices. When someone is given power over others and uses that power for their own sake at the expense of their subjects, it is extremely difficult for them to return towards justice and virtue. But it is not impossible. David, the king of Israel and a response to the character of his predecessor Saul, shows us the power and mercy of God. David has committed a horrific act for no reason other than his immediate gratification. Fortunately, he had someone virtuous like Nathan around him that would not lie to appease him. More importantly, David listened to Nathan and changed.
Still, David had to face the consequences of his sins, and did so willingly because it was just. It was also an opportunity for him to indicate his sincere remorse. There is hope for every single one of us, no matter where we are in our faith life. The power of God is so great that He can call and bring back the greatest sinner; all it takes is for the sinner to admit responsibility for his faults and dedicate whatever power he has to do the will of God. If Jesus taught us anything in his time on earth, it is that God has power over all things, including sin. What little power we have comes directly from Him, and it is only acceptable that we use it for His glorification.
15: 13 - 16: 13 - Persevering through Torment
It seems common throughout history for the most virtuous and admirable people to be treated unjustly by those who either do not understand them or who want to silence them. It is extremely frustrating, especially with hindsight, to hear stories of people who were in the right treated as if they were wrong. It is even more unjust that oftentimes these virtuous people are vastly outnumbered by the mob of falsehood. This is an archetypical theme - the hero must overcome all odds, even from those to whom he is closest, in order to fulfill his goal and reveal the truth to everyone. Like almost all archetypes of story and history, Jesus perfectly embodies this struggle. Even his own hometown, his family and friends who knew him from childhood, rejected him because they did not understand him.
There are moments in our own lives when we come face to face with this problem. Perhaps we know we are right in our viewpoints, opinions, and positions, but the rest of the world disagrees with us. Perhaps we are trying to do what is right for others while they reject us and our charity. We are always going to face opposition when standing for the truth, because falsehoods permit us to live how we want, not how we should. On certain occasions, it is far easier for the majority to see the world how they want to see it rather than how it is. To live for the truth in this situation is to suffer through torment, and this is no easy task. But Scripture gives us multiple layers of meaning that should strengthen us through those times. In this passage from the second book of Samuel, David flees Jerusalem when his own people reject him for his enemy. Not only does he walk through the Mount of Olives weeping for his situation, but as he walks on, he must suffer the abuse of a stranger who simply points out David’s predicament in a nasty way. It makes a bad situation worse.
This is how the world feels when things don’t go our way: problems start piling up and we can hardly handle it. Imagine, then, if someone were to come up to you at this moment and start recounting all of the things going wrong with a voice of blame; it would certainly cause most of us to reach our breaking point. But David takes it. A thousand years later, on that exact same spot on the Mount of Olives, Jesus wept with the sins of humanity in his mind and the sacrifice he would undergo for those who would not appreciate it. Goodness and truth are painful and require undergoing torment in order to achieve. But this is a refining process. Torment is merely an impediment, and has no power against those who truly desire the Truth. Only those who sincerely want to seek after the Truth, not because it is easy but because it is right, will be able to overcome the torment.
18: 9 - 19: 3 - Order Amidst Chaos
When we are bombarded with the hectic nature of life, it becomes difficult to even find the motivation to seek order and peace. Even if we wanted to, the opportunity to escape chaos never seems to present itself. A hectic life is not just a life in which our schedules are full and we don’t have time for leisure. A hectic life is the seemingly constant stream of unknown things and obstacles that pop up. In some ways, chaos can be good because it forces us to act out of desperation; it forms us and our abilities. But on the other hand, too much chaos in our lives can lead us down the path of total disorder and our entire life will unravel as a result.
Chaos is, for the most part, out of our control. We have no say in whether or not our lives are mostly chaotic or mostly ordered, but we do have control over how we respond to chaos. In our biology, our reactions are marked by instant emotion: we choose between fight or flight. But an immediate emotional response is the manifestation of how we have formed ourselves throughout our lives up to that point in which we are faced with chaos; this means that if we start preparing ourselves for chaos now while our life is relatively calm and uneventful, we will be able to react appropriately when chaos presents itself. Take two stories, the first of which is found in the Old Testament. David’s “enemy” Absalom is unexpectedly killed by one of David’s servants. This marks the end of a struggle between the two for the throne of Israel. Because the reader is placed on the side of David and values his virtuous nature, this would seem to be cause for celebration; however, David mourns over his fellow countryman. Separating himself from the chaotic scene, he appropriately saw that the entire situation, from Absalom’s attempt to usurp him to his violent death, was unfortunate, unnecessary, and a hindrance on the progress of Israel. His love for Absalom in this moment overpowered his anger or emotions towards him. David took a chaotic moment and dealt with it in an appropriate manner that allowed him to separate his emotions of the moment and how he should have responded.
The other story is perhaps the most chaotic scene in the life of Jesus. As he tries to make his way towards Jairus’ daughter to raise her from the dead, he is bombarded by crowds that grasp at him so that they may be healed. When he reaches the house of Jairus, he sees another chaotic scene: those present are mourning and wailing over the death of a child. In both instances, Jesus works against the chaos and evokes order in a simple, but firm, way. He heals the woman who grabs his clothes. He eases the suffering within Jairus’ house by simply raising the girl. He shows no anger towards the woman acting out of desperation. He shows no impatience towards the emotions and ridicule of the family of Jairus. Order can be found amidst chaos when we recognize its origin: divine love and patience. Neither are easy to show in times of distress, but they can be perfected over time. We simply need to keep at it so that we are prepared in those moments of chaos.