God’s Surprise Party
Pierluigi Banna - (*) This week marks the end of a liturgical year, which has a different rhythm from our calendar year. Today is a bit like the last day of the Church's year. This could be an opportunity to reflect on what has happened to us since November 17 of last year, the beginning of Advent 2024, until today.
As we think about all the events, good and bad, that have happened to us, the Church reminds us that while these things were happening, we waited for Jesus, we celebrated his birth, we saw him speak, perform miracles, die on the cross, and rise again (which was April 20). Then we celebrated the gift of the Spirit, the Eucharist, the birth of the Church, until the feast of the Dedication of the Cathedral on October 19, and we saw his glory in all the saints and the deceased last week, on November 2.
Yet these two agendas, that of the Church and that of our lives, could remain perfectly out of sync, parallel and without communication: on the one hand, our lives, of which we are more or less aware, more or less satisfied, and we do not always remember everything. On the other hand, the events of Christ's life, which, without thinking too much about it, always seem the same to us, without much depth.
Yet, to overcome this parallelism, on this last day of the year, it is as if the Church had organized a surprise party for us. The surprise party is all the more successful because it comes just when we are so tired that we do not expect it and just want to throw ourselves on a bed and sleep. We turn the key to our house, the lights come on, and unexpectedly we find all the people who love us waiting for us, even the most unexpected ones we haven't seen in a long time. The feast of Christ the King is like a surprise party, as if Christ were coming to meet our weariness, turning on the light and showing you all the good things that have happened in your life.
In fact, we never think about it enough: how many people have tried to love us, how many we have tried to love, how many times we have thought, even for a moment this year, that “because of this good, this life is worth living.” Many times, it was precisely by touching the fragility of this life, in its misery, that we found an indescribable compassion that we did not think was possible. The other day I met a lady who works for Caritas and saw a man soaked by the rain, but she had no change of clothes because the clothing department had closed thirty minutes earlier and she had arrived late. She took an interest, looked for the person in charge of the department, found a change of clothes, and gave them to him. The man thanked her and said, “You were kind because you looked at me.” She was moved because love also entered her life when someone looked at her for who she was, not for who she should be.
Who knows how many stories like this each of us could tell. But we are never tender with ourselves, never allowing ourselves the time to realize all the good that keeps our lives going.
The surprise of today's feast lies in the fact that Christ, at the end of the year, turns on the light and tells us: in all those good deeds that you often forget, it was I who was looking for you, it was I you were serving: “you did it to me.” Today's surprise gift is an invitation to see all the faces of loved ones, less loved ones, known and unknown, who have done good in our lives: Christ has invited them all to tell us how contemporary and ever new his life, death, and resurrection are in our lives, so that “God may be all in all.”
On this feast day, then, our agendas can be synchronized again: the agenda of our life and that of Christ's life. We can realize that in all the events of this year there was a presence that never abandoned us: Christ, who was born, died, and rose again for us, is with us even today. This fills us with gratitude and, with the little awareness that always distinguishes us, the doors of our hearts open wide to await him again, even more strongly. The doors open to the time of waiting, for a new year that begins, so that he may be ever more the king of our lives.
(*) Unrevised notes by the author. The Homily was held in Milan according to the Ambrosian rite, whilst the Roman rite will celebrate the feast is still two weeks away.
