This past summer, while at a conference, I was attending an organ recital in a church when I looked up to see the most surprising thing on the wall—a clock! I was shocked. I can’t remember the last time I saw a clock on the interior wall of a church. It’s true that we have clocks all over this campus—in the sacristy, Choir Room, and Parish House—but you won’t find one inside the church and thank goodness!
Clocks and worship just don’t go together very well, or at least, they shouldn’t go together, so stop looking at your watches. Now, I admit that I’ve been in church situations where I did look at my watch. I was even in a service once where the preacher crossed the 30-minute mark on the sermon and someone in the congregation took off her watch and waved it in the air, for which I was quite grateful, to be honest. But in all seriousness, although we may start Mass punctually, once it starts, the clock stops. Of course, none of us expects to spend the whole day here at Mass, even though maybe we should. When we come to church, the last thing we should be thinking about is time, or certainly not human time.
Rest assured: you won’t find a clock on the wall inside this church. You won’t even find one above the west doors as you’re leaving. Above the west doors is a far better visual indicator of why we’re even here in the first place. Above the west doors is that magnificent window featuring St. Michael and All Angels.
The most obvious reason that the angels are depicted above those doors is that they’re God’s agents of protection. As we cross the threshold of this building, we’re reminded that God’s holy angels are hovering around to guard and protect us. Perhaps less obvious is that the angels help us lose our sense of time. They remind us that when we enter the doors of this sacred space, earthly time comes to a grinding halt.
For a long time, the Church has focused on the militant prowess of Michael and the host of angels. Just look at the window: they’re armed for battle. As the Revelation to John reminds us, there’s a good reason for this. There is a battle still taking place between good and evil. The heavenly battle may have finished, but woe to the earth and sea because the battle has been brought down to earth. Having been cast out of the heavenly realm, the devil is furious, and he will use every chance he has to rage against those of us who walk towards the light.
But the image of Michael and the angels armed for battle might seem somewhat repugnant in a violent age, where we wish to see fewer weapons and where weapons are bandied about as if they’re articles of clothing. At what point does combating evil become an obsession? Many Christians are, quite frankly, obsessed with evil, and that can be a very dangerous thing. At some point, fighting evil gives it more power than it has or should have.
The truth is, if you like to fight, if it gives you a rush, you’ll always find something to fight about. People in the Church do that all the time. The urge to fight is a vicious cycle that causes us to rehash the same old resentments and litany of grievances. But surely, there must be a way to break the cycle. Surely, there must be a way to recognize the reality of evil, resist it, and move on.
So, let’s return to that great west window here in the church. If those angels standing guard there remind us that earthly time must stand still when we enter the church, then there’s the answer to our question of acknowledging evil and letting it have no power over our lives. The angels assure us that there is no shortage of time. Our time is not real time. God’s time is what matters. The theologian Stanley Hauerwas has wisely said that we, as Christians, must profess that we have all the time in the world. And this is what the angels witness to. They remind us that we have all the time in the world.
The angels are, admittedly, an elusive lot. We can certainly find plenty of references to angels in Scripture. And tradition tells us that they’re spiritual beings, without physical bodies, who exist in the heavens. They’re creatures of God sent as messengers and as protection for us mortals. But because they dwell in the heavens, where evil has already been cast out, they’re always worshipping, singing, praising, and serving God. That’s the essence of their existence.
It should be no wonder, then, at that great moment in the Mass before we sing the Sanctus, we join our song with that of the angels. Heaven is brought down to earth, and we’re raised up to heaven. The angels are the epitome of worship. And in that worship, there are no clocks. The angels’ praise never ends because when God is all that matters to you, all you can do is worship and sing! Such worship reminds us that we have all the time in the world because God certainly does.
But there’s one being who doesn’t have all the time in the world. Did you notice that from the Revelation to John? He’s full of great wrath because he knows that his time is short. Yes, it’s the devil. All his wiles, accusations, and slander are the result of his anger. And he’s angry because he knows his time is short.
It adds up, doesn’t it? We might say that human impatience is the root of much evil. When we’re obsessed with fighting evil, we show our impatience, because we’re looking for the quickest solution to what vexes us. When we’re unforgiving, we reveal our impatience, because we won’t take the time necessary to see God’s image in another person. When we lose our hope, we show our impatience, because we demand an immediate answer to our problems. When we give up on peace or settle for an easy peace, we’re impatient, because we refuse to take the time to engage in difficult conversations and relationship-building. When we don’t get our way, we’re impatient, because our consumer culture tells us to demand results now, not later. And when we become impatient, we usually become angry.
But Michael and the glorious legion of angels guard us precisely by reminding us that we should live as if we’re in the kingdom of God. We need to live as if we have all the time in the world. Our Lord himself lived that way. He made time for the stranger. He stopped his journeys to heal the sick and needy. He took time from his work and ministry to be with God in prayer. He refused to resort to violence to hasten the coming of God’s kingdom. He lived as if he had all the time in the world.
The devil, on the other hand, is impatient. It’s his impatience that led him to tempt Jesus in the desert with quick fixes to spiritual problems. And he tempts us, too, by capitalizing on our impatience. He tempts us through those vile accusing thoughts that tell us our work is in vain. The devil taunts the Church with prospects of her decline, and the Church often believes him because she can’t see the bigger picture, which requires faithfulness and hope. The devil torments us with the ticking clock, convincing us that we don’t have enough time and are constantly in competition with others for our existence. The devil tries to get us to believe that God cares nothing for us because our prayers go unanswered, at least in the way we expect. Above all, the devil knows nothing of hope, because hope takes time and patience. The devil is just angry because he knows that his time is short.
But God has all the time in the world to put things right. And the devil has good reason to be angry, because his time is short. The victory has been won by Christ, and so we have all the time in the world to live in the kingdom of God. And that’s why the angels are constantly worshipping and singing.
And that’s why we’re here. That’s why our worship together is the heartbeat of our lives in Christ. When we’re here, the clock stops, and we’re taken up to heaven in wonder, love, and praise. Our only objective is to give glory to God, and when we do, we join our song with Michael and his angels, who are constantly worshipping and singing.
Michael and the host of angels protect us by pointing in their ceaseless praise to the One who has accomplished the victory in heaven. They guide us to the place prepared for us. They lead us to the place where there are no clocks, just ceaseless praise. And in that place, where there is neither sorrow nor sighing, there’s all the time in the world.
Sermon by Father Kyle Babin
The Feast of St. Michael and All Angels
September 29, 2024