Advent arrives like an alarm clock in the dark. The world keeps moving at its usual pace—work and meals, holidays and travel, screens glowing late into the night—yet the Lord gently shakes our shoulder and gives a single, urgent command: “Therefore, stay awake!”
When Jesus speaks of the days of Noah, he does not describe spectacular sins. He speaks of people eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage. Ordinary life. Good things, but lived as if God were unnecessary. People so absorbed in what was immediately in front of them that they never lifted their eyes to what was coming toward them. The flood did not surprise them because it was hidden; it surprised them because they were spiritually asleep.
The same quiet danger faces us. Normal life can rock the soul to sleep. The world around us is constantly whispering, constantly flashing for our attention. It would like to occupy every corner of our minds and hearts. For some, it promises comfort, security, success, or control. For others, it stirs up fear, anxiety, and anger. It does not care which bait works, as long as our gaze drops from Christ to something less.
Spiritual sleep rarely happens all at once. Prayer is postponed “just for today.” The phone comes to the table, then to the bedroom, then into every silence. The Sunday mass becomes one more appointment on an already crowded schedule. Confession waits for a more convenient time. Little compromises begin to feel normal. Slowly the heart closes its eyes. We may still say our prayers and come to church, yet inside there is little expectation, little readiness to be surprised by God.
To stay awake is not to live in constant panic, but in clear, steady attention to the Lord. It means allowing Christ to be the fixed point in a spinning world. He is the way, the truth, and the life. When our eyes are turned toward him, his light exposes the lies that tempt us, his word shapes our choices, his mercy steadies us when we fall. Without him, we simply drift, even if our calendar is full and our life looks successful.
Advent draws our attention to both comings of Christ. We remember the gentle child laid in a manger, who comes to seek the lost and heal the broken. And we look ahead to the day he will return as judge of the living and the dead, when he will burn away every trace of sin and evil and make creation new. That day will arrive at an hour we do not expect—not to frighten us, but to free us from illusion. Only those who are awake will recognize him.
So this season, let the Lord’s command be the refrain in your heart. Wake up from habits that numb you. Wake up from the fears that paralyze you. Open your eyes to his presence in prayer, in the Scriptures, in the confessional, in the poor, in this Eucharist. Fix your gaze on Christ, and stay there. In that gaze you will find the strength to live, to love, and to step into the future unafraid.