Why Do We Fear the End Times?

Dear Theophilous,

A month or so ago a colleague shared with me that she had walked out on the Sunday homily. According to her, the homilist was making too many dire links between the readings and current events – wondering out loud if we were living out the End Times.

Granted, as the liturgical year winds down, and the last few weeks of Ordinary Time begin to point towards Advent, the Church’s readings do begin to get more apocalyptic in nature. With readings of recrimination from a variety of prophets (Nehemiah, Jonah, Ezekiel and Isaiah) – the outlook can be less than rosy. I have to admit, though, that the more I read from the Old Testament prophets and their call for the world to turn away from a life of sinful debauchery or face the consequences, the more I too see parallels in the ways of the contemporary world and wonder: are we hurtling towards the final judgment?

I guess this wasn’t the message my colleague wanted to hear.

To be quite honest, I doubt whether the prophets’ message of doom and gloom, sackcloth and repentance, fire and brimstone, is one that anybody wants to hear. That’s probably why they usually ended up dying a martyr’s death at the hands of the people God sent them to.

This got me to wondering… Why do so many fear the End Times?

Really, the more I think about it, the more I realize that we should be rejoicing if the End Times are actually upon us. What a privilege it would be to be among the select few to witness the second coming of Christ. To be among the living at the Resurrection on the Last Day; and hopefully with God’s grace among those raised into the New Jerusalem.

And it is at this point I begin to wonder if I have hit the nail on the head… many of us are afraid that we won’t make the cut; that we will fail this final exam; that we will be found wanting before the eyes of God. A few months ago I wrote about WhyWe Fear Judgement, with one of the reasons being that we already have a pretty good idea of where we stand before God – we know His love, and we know we have rejected it. If the End Times are near, and the Final Judgement is upon us, most of us know we need more time to cram for the exam.

So how did we get here? How did we manage to get to a point where we no longer look to the second coming with joyful anticipation?

In a word: complacency.

When the rich official was downcast that Jesus told him to sell off all his worldly goods to become His disciple to have treasure in heaven, Christ explained to the young man: “How hard it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! For it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.” (Lk 18:24-25)

For those of us blessed with the abundance of life in the Western World (Europe and North America), we have become soft; we have grown complacent. Since we can obtain pretty much what ever we want and cater to our every whim, in many ways we have become God to ourselves. What do we need God for, when we can shower ourselves with blessings?

The problem is, since we are creatures (and not the Creator), the only blessings we can offer ourselves are of creation, things of the flesh: food, drink, shiny objects and sex. As St. Paul tells us, these things of the flesh will only lead us to death (cf. Rom 8), and we know it. Too often we have enjoyed the things of this life to excess and ignored God. Too often we have revelled in the flesh and not in the Spirit. We have rejected God’s love and not only are we afraid of the consequences, but we are saddened at having offended Him.

Now is the time to “turn away from the wickedness they {we} have committed and do what is lawful and right, {so} they {we} shall save their {our} life.” (Ez 18:27 {my additions for context})

In turning away from sin and back towards God, we will no longer have to fear the End Times, and once more as disciples of Christ we can joyfully look forward to His return in Glory.

Why We Fear Judgement

Dear Theophilous,

“Who am I to judge?” One might say that this was the question heard around the world. The fact that it was asked at 35,000 feet on a Papal flight, might just justify that moniker. The context of the question and the Pandora’s box it opened aside, by asking the rhetorical question, Pope Francis brought sharply into focus the human fear of being judged.

Very early on in my blogging career I wrote a short article on judging and being judge (you can read it here). I addressed the dilemma of trying to help others avoid condemnation at the final judgement without coming across as taking on God’s unique role of judge of their soul. It is a very fine line, and recently I happened across Edward Sri’s Who am I to Judge?, which gives great insight into how to go about helping others understand God’s judgement without becoming judgemental themselves.

What all of this has highlighted for me lately is our human fear of being judged – especially God’s final judgement at the moment of our death.

Meditating on this question, I’ve come to realize that there are two reasons why we fear judgement:

Ø  We are used to imperfect, human judges; and

Ø  We have already judged ourselves, and found we are lacking.

Imperfect Judges

None of us here on earth has stood before Christ, the perfect judge. That time will come only at the moment of our death, when each of us will face our final judgement. Our last breath taken, our soul will stand before the Lord, the evidence of our earthly life presented for His merciful judgement.

Until that time, however, we will have to content ourselves with less than perfect human judges. This statement isn’t intended to slander judges or our judicial system. I place a lot of faith in both the system and those who run it, for our judges “would have no power over (us), unless it had been given to (them) from above.” (cf Jn 19:11) I trust that in His infinite wisdom, God has placed the right people in the right authority to bring about His plan for Salvation. It may be earthly authority, but its ultimate goal should be to help us to heaven. This is probably why it takes years of law school, practice as a lawyer, and innumerable checks and balances to ensure that only the best of the best become judges,

This said, these are human judges, and, unfortunately, human weakness and sin can get in the way of God’s plans.

Mistakes happen, and even the best and most experienced of judges can make an error in judgement. Even though they are the exception and not the norm, stories of wrongful convictions abound in the media. The masses call foul of the judicial system, and our mistrust of those put into a position of authority deepens.

Unfortunately, this developed mistrust of our imperfect human judges then get projected onto the perfect judge – our merciful Father.

We fear death and our final judgement, because we fear that we will be the exception and not the norm. Although there has been an eternity of God’s perfect and impartial judgement, we fear that we will be the first to be wrongfully condemned. Our human minds, formed in their frailty by a history of imperfect human judges, are unable to understand that God’s judgement is not only perfect and impartial, but that it is also merciful.

We tend to forget that God is slow to anger and abounding is steadfast love. (cf Ps 86:15, Jl 2:13, Jnh 4:2, Ex 34:6, Ne 9:17, Ps 103:8 and Ps 145:8)

This fear of imperfect human judgement leads into the second reason why we fear judgement…

Self-Judgement

Don’t judge me! is often the pre-emptive retort before someone can make a comment on whatever it is we are doing. What this statement is really saying is: I have already judged myself, and know that I am lacking.

I know that I took an extra trip to the buffet table – don’t judge me!

I know that I drink too much – don’t judge me!

I know that I shouldn’t smoke a pack-a-day – don’t judge me!

I know that I slept around – don’t judge me!

We all know the litany of sinful behaviours and skeletons that hide in our closets. Yes, deep down, we’re ashamed of them. We know what we’ve done is not in our best interest. We really don’t need you to point this out.

When it comes to the list of our own short-comings, we can all be pretty harsh on ourselves, and hearing it from someone else just makes the wound that much deeper. Self-control is usually listed as the last of the fruits of the Holy Spirit for a reason, it can seem to be the hardest to come by. Still, it is something that we desperately need, and should ardently desire.

Our short-comings are never more evident than when we come upon perfection. As an recreational athlete, I never feel more inadequate that when I play with someone who has competed at the highest level… I become aware very quickly of the chasm of skill and athleticism that separates myself from a true athlete. I judge myself unworthy to be on the same playing field as my more-talented adversary, and the lack of confidence soon shows in my increasingly sloppy play – but don’t judge me… the other guy is vastly superior.

Looking ahead to our own final judgement, we can’t help but think that we will feel the same way when we come before Jesus. Christ is the ultimate perfection, and we are not. Although called to hold ourselves to His divine standard, we come to realize very quickly that we will fall considerably short of His heavenly criteria… but don’t judge me – at least I’m trying.

Maybe in this day and age we want to shout out to Christ: “Don’t judge me!” because we have judged ourselves against His divine standard and we understand just how much we are lacking. We don’t want God to judge us, because through His revelation we already know where our actions are taking us, and we don’t want to go there. If we ignore His judgement, then we can ignore the consequences.

We need to remember that if we have judged ourselves, we’re being judged by an imperfect human judge.

In the end, Christ, our ultimate judge, understands this and He is compassionate towards us. This is why He has given us the sacrament of Reconciliation through the Church. He offers us the opportunity to bring ourselves out of our own imperfect self-judgement into His perfect and merciful judgement.

Hell's Greatest Secret - Sins of Omission

Dear Theophilous,

It’s over 20 years ago, but it still haunts me like it was this morning. My wife (fiancée at the time) and I were visiting the priest who was going to marry us at St. Augustine’s Seminary in Toronto, where he was teaching. We were heading out to lunch, and as we drove down the long driveway we saw an older man off to the side of the road juggling shopping bags and trying to open a gate that was obviously stuck.

“Poor old guy,” Father commented from the back seat. I murmured agreement and continued to roll down the drive. Just as we were about to roll past where the older gent was still struggling with the gate Father piped up, “Stop the car!” He then proceeded to jump out and easily lift the gate so it could swing open. When he got back in the car, Father didn’t say a word, but I looked sheepishly forward, embarrassed that I had not stepped up to the plate when God had provided me with the opportunity.

My wife, Father and the old gentleman have probably all long forgotten the incident. For me, however, it still lingers in the recesses of my conscience.

I had sinned.

I hadn’t done anything wrong. I hadn’t broken any of the commandments. In fact, I hadn’t done anything at all. And that’s my point. By deliberately choosing to drive on by, I had committed a sin of omission.

Prattling off the Confiteor by rote each week, we probably don’t notice it, but we are reminded that the good we don’t do can be just as damning as the sins we wilfully commit:

I confess to Almighty God,

And to you, my bothers and sisters,

That I have sinned,

In my thoughts and in my words;

In what I have done, and in what I have failed to do.

Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault…

Going into the confessional, it’s easy (kind of…) to list the sins we have committed. We have the 10 Commandments and the Beatitudes to guide our examination of conscience. I actually have an app that takes me through the process, gives me a check list of all my faults, which I then scratch in hieroglyphs onto a piece of paper so I don’t forget anything.

But what about sins of omission? How do we recognize what we have failed to do?

Do you look the other way when passing a hand stretched out for spare change?

Do you give up your seat on the bus?

Do you offer half a sandwich to the co-worker with no lunch?

Do you offer to carry a senior’s groceries to their car?

Do you defend the faith when someone slanders the Church?

Do you take a stand for life? Marriage?

Do you hold the door open, or let it close in someone’s face?

Do you say thank you when you receive?

Do you wave when someone lets you into traffic?

As long as the list of sins I’ve committed is long, I’d bet that my list of sins of omission is just as long, if not longer.

Satan must kill himself laughing each time he sees us ignore the chance to do God’s will. This is his greatest secret. Daily we’re offered a multitude of opportunities to do God’s will, yet we choose to turn the other way. Lucifer doesn’t even have to lift a finger, and we quietly turn from God towards him.

To combat this, I’ve tried to consciously change the tactics of my examination of conscience. Not only do I reflect on the sins I have committed, I try to pick out the moments when I have failed to do good in the world. I look for the opportunities God gave me to be a witness to His love in the world and I failed to rise to the challenge. I confess these shortcomings and resolve to do better in the future.