A reflection on Luke 21: 29–33 | 34th Friday of Ordinary Time, Year B – 2024
Earlier this year, the Olympics debuted in Paris. After
the grandeur of the opening ceremony and a few weeks of competition, the games
concluded and faded from view, not to return for another four years. In the
meantime, behind the scenes, athletes dedicate themselves to relentless
preparation for the next games, which will unfold in a different country or
even on another continent.
While the Olympics now reappear predictably every four
years, this hasn’t always been the case. The modern Olympics, as we know them
today, were first held in 1896 in Greece, the birthplace of the ancient games.
Before their revival, the Olympics were abandoned for over 1,500 years,
following a ban by Roman Emperor Theodosius, who viewed the games as pagan and
un-Christian.
The rise and fall of the Olympics mirror the life cycles
of many cultural phenomena. I remember, as a boy approaching adolescence, the
rollerblading craze that swept through my community. Everyone flocked to
skating rinks, and it seemed like the blades would never go out of style. But
as the years passed, I traded my rollerblades for a skateboard, and when that
phase ended, I picked up BMX riding to stay in sync with the trends of my
youth. These fads faded, as they all do. Someday, even movie theatres might become
obsolete as streaming services make new releases more accessible from the
comfort of home. Cultural movements and traditions, no matter how significant,
are fluid—they come and go.
This impermanence extends to political forces as well.
Ancient Rome, once the dominant power of the Mediterranean and beyond,
eventually crumbled. The mighty Ottoman Empire, which lasted centuries, was
dismantled in the early 20th century. Even the British Empire, a global
powerhouse for over 400 years, declined in the mid-20th century. Today, nations
like Russia, China, and the United States vie for dominance, but history
teaches us that no political force is everlasting.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus acknowledges this natural cycle
of rise and decline. Using the image of a budding fig tree, he reminds us that
just as trees have seasons, so do social structures, cultural traditions, and
political powers. But then, he issues a striking warning: while all these
things will fade, his Word will never pass away. His prophetic message—the
coming of God’s kingdom—endures forever, unaltered by time or human
manipulation, no matter how fiercely it is resisted.
When Jesus emphasizes that his words are eternal, he
challenges us to revaluate our values and cling to him. Many of us find refuge in
Jesus but struggle to remain faithful due to our weaknesses or fear of missing
out on worldly pleasures. Others, lacking the gift of faith, see no reason to
let go of earthly attachments. For Catholics, the knowledge that all things are
held in God’s hands provides reassurance to persevere, even when faith is
tested. Yet God calls us not to a marginal faith but to full
commitment—embracing the mission of the Gospel, even at the cost of our
reputation, livelihood, or life. In the end, only God’s Word promises lasting
happiness; everything else is temporary and ultimately unfulfilling.
Today, we see people striving for power, hoarding
resources, and seeking endless pleasure in an attempt to secure their futures. Yet,
in the midst of this striving, there is an emptiness that these pursuits cannot
fill. Power slips away, resources deplete, and pleasure fades, leaving us
searching for something more enduring. Perhaps today is an opportunity to pause
and consider: what am I striving for? Am I investing in the things that endure,
or am I clinging to what will ultimately pass away?
No comments:
Post a Comment