I am Harry Potter
Some mornings, I get up from bed, look out the window, watch the dark night sky begin to slowly glow lighter on the horizon. I grab my wand from the nightstand, and I am Harry Potter, I wand-command the sun to rise upon the day, higher and higher, brighter and brighter, and soon the whole world is awake and shining on muggles and wizards, and another day has begun.
It is always the beginnings of good things that are so wonderful, like the beginning of a new day. In the beginning, there are possibilities, pregnancies, prospects. When the day begins, all kinds of adventures are waiting. There will be a new flavor of coffee at Starbucks waiting for you to try, an email from a long-lost friend will appear on your screen, a song on Spotify will make you finger-dance on the steering wheel, the giant maple will come into view—afire in dazzling orange-yellows, you will watch the eyes of a child grow wide as she encounters IMAX magic on the screen. Something or someone will make you laugh so hard you will cry, like you haven’t laughed in years. You will meet someone for the first time, and know that you have found a friend for all time. When you command the sun to rise for another day with your wand, all kinds of possibilities are awaiting.
But you know, as surely as your hand, that in every day of beginnings, there are also endings. The sun slowly arches its way across the sky, and no matter your magic wand, it falls inevitably to the ground, taking with it the light, leaving only the night. The endings come sometimes as quietly, and as swiftly, as the beginnings. A shower of leaves fall to the ground in the wind, and suddenly the branch is bare. The sign in the bakery says, goodbye, farewell, and thank you for all the years of your patronage, and you know your black and white cookies will never again be the same. The china bowl falls to the ground and shatters into a thousand unconnectable pieces. Someone combs her hair in the afternoon in a way that you know the end of love is near. The endings of things comes too, and though sometimes they too can be wonderful---the end of an awful conversation, the end of a chemo treatment, the end of an examination---it is the endings that are sometimes hardest to endure. The end of a day, or the end of a life, or the end of a world.
Jesus talks about the end of the world, the end of our lives and the end of all life as we know it, and it scares the heck out of his friends. Just like it scares the heck out of us too. Who hasn’t thought about the end, even for a moment—sometime when calamity falls, or buildings, or climates. A friend spoke to me recently, clearly convinced by all the weird weather global warming is giving us that this is it, this is the moment like in the Bible: earthquakes, plagues, famines. Especially, “mighty signs will come from the sky.” It’s already happening, he told me, with more to come. Just wait, you’ll see.
I think he’s right. It is already happening. The end of the world as we know it, at hand, it’s curtains for us all. The moment is upon us.
On this day, just a few hours ago, I already used my Harry Potter wand and commanded the sun to rise, as per usual, and the snow to hold off for now. As the end approaches, John is sitting there in the fourth pew, bored to tears and a million miles away, cursing the leaves that need to be raked in the back yard. Angela is praying her heart out in the back of the church, praying that her mother’s cancer will disappear. Tony is home, fast asleep, after watching 8 episodes of the Simpsons on Hulu before he turned in for bed. Big John has started his day taking another drink and telling himself that he is not an alcoholic. Amanda stands before a pair of gold earrings in Zale’s in the mall, trying to imagine how she would look in them. Bobby is exhausted from playing Grand Theft Auto 5 on his Play Station 4 for 6 hours straight. Suzie is standing on line in Trader Joe’s, thinking about how to find a roommate to pay the rent with her in Stuytown. Ed is talking with his boss, hoping that his work is recognized for all the effort, and that the bank will not foreclose on his condo. Sally is falling asleep during the homily and is nearly falling out of the pew.
The end of the world as we know it is at hand, indeed. It will be a moment just like this moment, the moment when it will all be over, the world as we know it, curtains for all.
The end of a world in which we fear one another, hurt one another, abandon one another. The end of a world where people suffer alone, search for love in the all the wrong places, fight for things that really don’t matter at all. The end of a world of injustice, where children starve, babies are aborted, immigrants are demonized, husbands are abusive; end of an unjust world where employers discriminate, resources are squandered, children are ungrateful, women are degraded.
Get ready. Get set.
Open your hand, and receive the beginning of a new world. It is at hand, and within our grasp, the end of what we know, and the promise for which we all hope.
The body of Christ, Amen.
John comes out of his reverie in pew four and follows the long line up to the front. Mary watches Liz on her way up too, noticing her new hairdo and the pretty blouse she has on. Little Sal holds his hands together like his Religious Ed teacher taught him to do and smiles when he sees his classmate Joe in line next to him. Carol concentrates on singing as she walks, trying to get on line where the priest is giving out communion. All of them, all of us, the moment that is the end but which is the beginning of everything—possibilities, pregnancies, prospects—in a little while, they—we—will be in line for that moment, a moment that Jesus promises us is more marvelous than we can ever imagine.
And when we leave this place, the moment in our hand and then our mouth and then our stomachs and then our hearts… why, the beginning of a new world is at hand, our hand.
A new world where the elderly are respected, marriages are repaired, family disputes are settled, material goods are put in perspective, children are never abused, the poor are not forgotten, where the good creation is protected, where we love even the unlovable, a new world where love is the first choice in every single one of our actions. A world where we acknowledge, praise and reverence the Source of everything and everyone.
Don’t you see? There is nothing to fear at the end, because we bring in our very bodies from this table the beginning to everyone, we bring the promise and the reality of a new beginning, because we bring Jesus who has been given, in hand to us.
In a few short moments, we could end the world as we know it, and start the world anew. “There will arise the sun of justice with its healing rays.” We can be the wand that makes the sun rise and lets the love shine. Shall we do it together, shall we do it today?
