Behold, the Bridegroom Cometh

“And at midnight a cry was heard: ‘Behold, the bridegroom is coming; go out to meet him!’”

– Matthew 25:6

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. The advent of Christ – that Coming we’ve anticipated for weeks – is imminent. Like the virgins who await the bridegroom in Matthew 25, we must wake up and trim our lamps. The Bridegroom comes. It is time to meet him.

The trouble is, the Bridegroom may not come the way we want Him to. Odds are we have spent Advent hoping our fasting, prayer, or penitence will result in a specific outcome. Perhaps we want Him to make us happy again, or to solve a problem we can’t figure out, or to give us an answer to a question we can understand.

Consider the first Christmas. Mary and Joseph’s lives were immediately and irrevocably changed by Christ’s birth. The witness of the angels to the shepherds followed a few hours later. But for almost every other creature on earth, that night would have seemed quite . . . ordinary. Perhaps it was not quiet – not every person’s life permits a silent night every night – but for most people it was likely unremarkable, and for 20 or 30 years none but a select few would have any inkling that God had arrived on earth and all things had changed. 

It could be that Christ comes to us on Christmas and nothing in our lives seems to change. He might arrive with the call to a vocation that – even with its prospect of joy – shatters a future we once idealized. He could arrive with the shock and blunder and bloody glory of birth, delivering us – like Mary and Joseph – into a whole new way of being. Christ could come with revelation, or suffering, or silence, or the gift of a deep happiness. His coming could mark the end of the world. 

What we can know for certain is that Christ’s love will descend upon our lives on Christmas precisely in accordance with His wisdom – not ours. The great challenge and gift we celebrate is that Christ chooses to draw so close to us, to dwell among us, and that His love will infiltrate our lives and change them utterly. This may not be “pretty” or easy. It will be a cause for celebration – how could it not be? – but we do well to remember that the arrival we celebrate will not necessarily make us comfortable, happy, or soothed. The Nativity accounts always occur at the start of their respective Gospels. In the stories, what always follows is Christ’s call to leave everything – yes, everything – and Come, follow me.

Christmas is almost here. Christ draws near – so near, closer than we realize, even as close as our own breath. Are we ready to see and receive Him if His arrival contradicts our hopes or expectations? Are we like the wise virgins – those who rise up, trim their lamps, and say yes to the future He gives? Will we consent to let His love change us utterly? 

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.

O come, let us adore Him.