No Time Like the Present
What if Jesus’ call to be ready was less about fear of judgment, but moreso about freeing you to live with peace, joy, and love... right now?
In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells His disciples, “Do not be afraid any longer, little flock, for your Father is pleased to give you the Kingdom.”
That line alone could carry us through a lifetime.
The God who spoke galaxies into being… who sees billions of years as “a day”… looks at you with delight and says, “I want you to have My Kingdom.” No catch, no trick, no small print. Just the Father’s desire to give Himself entirely to His children.
But then He adds, “Gird your loins and light your lamps… be ready… for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.”
This is where we run into that troublesome word soon. If you’ve ever watched The Chosen, you may recall the disciples asking Jesus when something will happen and His reply: “Soon.”
And then, almost like a gentle joke between friends, they wonder, What does “soon” mean to God?
We measure time in hours and years; God measures in ages and eternities. What we call “forever” He calls “a moment,” and what we call “soon” might stretch beyond the limits of human history. The Second Letter of Peter reminds us, “With the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day” (2 Peter 3:8).
We feel this tension most sharply when we want more time: when a loved one is dying, when we ourselves feel our mortality creeping in. We plead for days, weeks, years… and sometimes God grants them, sometimes not. Whether we die at twenty or at a hundred, in the scale of eternity, our lives are still just a blink.
So why the call to readiness? Why the urgency in Jesus’ words?
It is not because He needs us to be on edge, anxiously waiting for a surprise inspection. The warning is for our sake. As St. Augustine once wrote, “God is always trying to give good things to us, but our hands are too full to receive them.” Readiness empties our hands. It makes space for the Kingdom now… not just later.
Holiness, contrary to the caricature, isn’t about being Heaven’s “teacher’s pet.” It is for us. It gives us a life ordered toward what is eternal: concord with our neighbor, peace in our hearts, gratitude in all things. It equips us to bear suffering without collapsing into bitterness. It frees us from the slavery of addiction and the tyranny of constant distraction. It allows us, as St. Francis de Sales counseled, to “be who you are and be that well,” to live without the frantic need to be someone else or somewhere else.
When we understand that every human triumph and every human tragedy will be swallowed up in the vast ocean of eternity, a strange kind of liberation takes hold. We are free to enjoy the good things of this life without clinging to them. We are free to let go of old wounds without needing them to define us. We are free to focus on the one thing that will outlast the stars: Love.
So take Jesus at His word today. Sell what weighs you down… your grudges, your self-importance, your need for control… and give alms of mercy to those around you. Make yourself a treasure in Heaven “that no thief can reach nor moth destroy” (Luke 12:33).
And as you do, keep your lamp lit. Keep watch. Not out of fear that He might catch you off guard, but because the sooner you live in Him, the sooner you will taste the joy and peace you were made for.
When will He come?
Soon.
And in His time, “soon” will have been right on time.
If this reflection stirred something in you, don’t wait for “soon” to become “too late.” Begin now. Light your lamp. Step toward the life God is offering.
I’d be honored to walk that road with you. You can join me for more reflections, prayers, and conversations about living in the Kingdom here and now—just subscribe and let’s journey together.