Already, but not yet…
Homily for the 4th Sunday of Advent (Year B)
The Word becomes flesh and dwells among us every time we celebrate the Eucharist. Christ is here with us. And yet St. Paul says in his letter to the Romans that the world is still groaning in labor pains as it awaits the full revelation of the children of God (Rom 8:22).
Today is the 4th Sunday of Advent. It is also Christmas Eve. Because this year Advent is as short as it can be, with Christmas falling on a Monday, we don’t really get a “fourth week of Advent.” We only get a 4th Sunday, and even then not the whole Sunday, with our Christmas celebrations beginning with the 4:30 Vigil Mass. Once every seven years we get Christmas and Advent in one Sunday like this.
The altar is decorated with poinsettias, in anticipation of that celebration. The crib has been laid out, in anticipation of the Christ-child. This can all make it feel like Christmas is already here, but it isn’t. We are still in purple. The crib is empty. It is still Advent for a few hours more.
We are in a state of what I like to call “already, but not yet.” Already, but not yet. That was a phrase I first heard used by a priest giving a reflection to our diaconal ordination class. It was shortly before our ordination, after many years of formation. We had spent countless hours preparing for ministry, he pointed out, and so we were ready for it, eager for it — but we were not ordained yet. We were not yet deacons, though we were men formed to be deacons. “Already, but not yet.”
I see the same effect in my senior students in the weeks before graduation. They have mostly finished their studies. They have turned in their graduation paperwork. They have purchased their cap and gown. Just a couple more assignments to turn in and they are done. But those last few assignments can be so hard to do, because mentally they have already graduated. They are ready to move on to the next stage in their life, but they can’t yet. “Already, but not yet.”
You’ll find the same feeling in engaged couples who are ready for marriage, longing to begin their life together. They have committed themselves to one another, they have found their life partner, but marriage itself is something still on the horizon. “Already, but not yet.” It is a time of joyful anticipation, a time of excitement, but at the same time you can’t wait for it to be over!
“Already, but not yet,” means the good we long for has been partially fulfilled, and so there is a joy there; but it is only partially fulfilled, so we know there is even more joy to come. We have something to look forward to, as I preached at the beginning of this Advent season. It’s like the presents sitting wrapped under the Christmas tree. The gift is there. You can see it, shake it, try to peek beneath the wrapping. You really do possess it, in a way, but not fully. Not until Christmas morning when the wrapping is removed and the gift is revealed.
I think, though, the ultimate example of “already, but not yet,” has to be pregnancy. When a woman becomes pregnant with a child, that child is already here in the world. She is a mother not from the moment she gives birth, but from the moment she conceives. So the child is “already” with you, but there is still a lot of “not yet” about being a parent that is to follow. Advent, to me, has always had the character of a pregnant season. Advent, like pregnancy, is very much a time of waiting.
At our Christmas Masses later we will read of Christ’s birth, but our gospel reading for this Mass tells of the beginning of Mary’s pregnancy. People have asked me before why the Annunciation isn’t a bigger feast day than Christmas. After all, we know that life begins at conception — that’s what the word “conception” means, the beginning. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us at Jesus’ conception, not at his birth, so why do we celebrate the Nativity with so much more fanfare than the Annunciation?
Well, why do we celebrate our birthdays and not the days of our conception? The same fact is true of you and me, after all. Our lives began when we were conceived. It’s because our conception is something hidden, and for nine months in the womb we are still hidden, in a way, like the wrapped gifts under the tree. The child is there already, in his mother’s womb, but not made manifest until his birth. This is when he sees the world and the world sees him for the first time. The Word became flesh in Mary’s womb. But He really began to “dwell among us” in a visible way once He was born.
Those nine months of pregnancy are a time of “already, but not yet.” And so is the whole of our time on this earth. It is a pregnant time, a time of fulfillment that is also a time of waiting.
In truth, today is Christmas Day because we have been living in Christmas Day for more than 2000 years. The birth of Christ is an historical fact, just as much as His death and Resurrection. The good news of great joy spoken to the shepherds by the angel is just as true for us today on the 4th Sunday of Advent, as it will be tomorrow, for a Messiah has been born for us in the City of David. We are living in the age of Emmanuel, God-with-us. Every day is Christmas, because Christ has already been born to us. But every day is also like Advent, for we still await the fulfillment of our hope and the glorious coming of Our Lord. Already, but not yet.
Christ has been born to us, and Christ continues to be born to us every time a new member is added to the Church through baptism. As soon as you give your “yes” to God and say to Him, “Be it done unto me according to thy word” (Lk 1:38), you become, in a sense, pregnant with the Word of God. But that doesn’t mean that Christ has come to full stature in you. There is still growth that needs to happen as you are formed more and more into the likeness of the Son. Remember, pregnancy is a time of waiting. Already, but not yet.
What does this “saying yes” to God look like? Mary is our model in this, but we may think, how does this apply to me? I don’t have angels appearing in my life asking me to do impossible things, like becoming the virginal Mother of God. But Mary’s “yes” to God did not begin at the Annunciation. Her whole life was a “yes” to God. Every moment of every day she said “yes” to God’s will through her faithfulness — her faithfulness to prayer and to worship and to her vocation; and she said “yes” to God through her life of virtue — her humility, her charity, her chastity, temperance and fortitude. So when she was asked to do the seemingly impossible, it was no struggle for her to give her “yes” because her whole being already belonged to God.
This is how we can give our “yes” to God each day, by being faithful in small ways and by being loving and forgiving toward one another. If we cultivate a habit of saying “yes” to God — if that becomes the default setting of our life — then that gift of grace will be unwrapped and Christ will be made manifest through us. That’s what it means to be a saint. A saint is someone through whom Christ has become present in the world once again. And that begins with our first “yes” to Him. But it’s like a present that we’ve been given but not unwrapped. As John says in his first epistle, “Beloved, we are God’s children now (that’s the “already” part); what we shall be has not yet been revealed (there’s the “not yet”). We do know that when it is revealed we shall be like him for we shall see him as he is” (1 Jn 3:2). Already, but not yet.
The Word becomes flesh and dwells among us every time we celebrate the Eucharist. Christ is here with us. And yet St. Paul says in his letter to the Romans that the world is still groaning in labor pains as it awaits the full revelation of the children of God (Rom 8:22). Our Savior has come but there is still a “not yet.” Elsewhere St. Paul says that God has begun a good work in us (already), and he will continue to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus (not yet) (Phil 1:6).
And so our lives are filled with this joyful tension, this pregnant anticipation of an even greater good to come. And sometimes there can be labor pains. Ask any mother and she will tell you. Pregnancy is no picnic. But this experience of “already, but not yet” changes even our suffering. It changes the nature of the penance we do. We fast joyfully, because we know we’re invited to the feast. We wait for the bridegroom patiently, because we know that He’s coming for us and indeed is already here, knocking at the door. Even during the most difficult trials of life, we are not overcome because we know that, even though it feels like we are losing this particular battle, Christ has already won the final victory. “Already, but not yet.”
My brothers and sisters, even though it may be a few hours too early to wish you a “Merry Christmas,” I can say this with confidence: Christ has come. Christ is coming. Christ will come again. Our Lord will be made manifest. He will not remain hidden. Peace and justice will reign and all will be set right. Any day that you say to the Holy Spirit “Thy will be done” is a day that Christ is born into your life. Every time you receive the Eucharist, you carry the Word made flesh in your body. May we each live our whole lives with the faithful anticipation of Advent, and may we greet every morning as a new day in which Christ is born to us.
