Sunday 16 November 2025

If you’ve ever watched the news and thought, “The world’s gone mad,”
you’re not the first.
The people in Jesus’ day thought exactly the same.

They looked at the great Temple of Jerusalem — its marble walls, its golden doors —
and they said, “Surely this will last forever.”
And Jesus shocks them:

“The time will come when not a single stone will be left on another.”

They can’t believe it.
How could something so sacred, so solid, so central, fall?
But forty years later, it happened —
the Temple was destroyed, and the world of Israel as they knew it was gone.

It’s a sobering truth:
everything earthly — even what seems holy — eventually passes away.

But what Jesus says next matters even more: “Do not be terrified.”

Every generation thinks it’s living at the end of the world.
Wars, earthquakes, plagues, moral collapse — Jesus lists them all.
And yet He says: “Don’t be terrified.”

Why? Because history isn’t chaos — it’s choreography.
The Lord is not wringing His hands in heaven.
He’s writing a story, and even the dark chapters have purpose.

The end of the Temple wasn’t the end of faith.
It was the birth of a new temple — the Body of Christ,
and the Church that would carry His presence to every nation.

So when the world shakes,
the Christian doesn’t panic; he prays.
When kingdoms fall, the disciple remembers:
Christ’s Kingdom cannot be overthrown.

The prophet Malachi in our first reading says: “The day is coming like a blazing furnace.”

That’s not a threat — it’s a promise of justice.
It means God has not forgotten.
The wickedness of this world is not the last word;
righteousness will rise like the sun.

For those who reject God, that fire will be purifying and painful.
But for those who love Him, Malachi says,

“The sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings.”

That’s the light of Christ —
the fire that burns away sin but warms the heart of the faithful.

So the question is not whether the fire is coming —
it’s whether we stand against it or in it.

In the Gospel, Jesus gives the key line of the whole passage:

“By your endurance you will save your lives.”

Notice what He doesn’t say.
He doesn’t say, “By your feelings,”
or “By your opinions,”
or “By your success.”
He says, “By your endurance.”

Faith isn’t proved by enthusiasm when things go well.
It’s proved by fidelity when things fall apart.

The Church today faces storms — outside and inside.
But the Gospel doesn’t tell us to hide;
it tells us to hold fast.

Endurance doesn’t mean doing nothing;
it means doing the right thing until it bears fruit.
It means praying when you don’t see results,
loving when it’s not returned,
serving when it costs you.

That’s the endurance that saves.

When people panic about “the end times,”
I often remind them:
the world is always ending — for someone, somewhere.
But for the Christian, every ending is also a beginning.

The collapse of the Temple was the rise of the Church.
The death of Christ was the birth of salvation.
The end of the world will be the dawn of a new creation.

The message isn’t “run for cover.”
It’s “stand your ground.” “Not a hair of your head will be lost.”

In a world obsessed with fear,
Jesus teaches the peace of the faithful.
The Church doesn’t survive by cleverness or politics —
she survives by holiness.
And holiness is simply endurance filled with love.

In the second reading, St Paul rebukes the Thessalonians
who had stopped working because they thought the world was about to end.
He says,

“Anyone unwilling to work should not eat.”

That sounds harsh, but it’s deeply spiritual.
Paul isn’t just talking about jobs — he’s talking about mission.
Don’t waste time waiting for the end.
Build, pray, serve, evangelise, sanctify.

If the Lord returns tonight, may He find us faithful at our post —
not staring at the sky, but building His Kingdom on the ground.

The best way to prepare for the end of the world
is to be faithful in the middle of it.

Every Mass is both a warning and a comfort.
Here we stand between the Cross and the Second Coming.
The same Word who leapt down in the silence of Wisdom
and spoke in the parable of the widow
now speaks to us from this altar.

This is the Temple that cannot fall —
Christ’s own Body given for us.
Here the fire of Malachi burns,
but not to destroy — to purify, to heal, to set us alight.

When we receive the Eucharist, we receive the Sun of Righteousness.
We are given the strength to endure,
the courage to persevere,
the grace to stay faithful when the world shakes.

“By your endurance you will save your lives.”
The Eucharist is that endurance made visible —
Christ’s victory placed in our hands.

So what do these readings say to us —
to our Church, our families, our times?

They say:

• Don’t lose hope when the world grows dark.
• Don’t lose faith when others lose theirs.
• Don’t lose heart when holiness seems hard.

Because the end is not the end — it’s the beginning of glory.

When you see the news and it looks like everything’s collapsing,
remember the words of St Augustine:

“The world is God’s work — He cannot abandon what He has made.”

And remember Christ’s promise:

“Heaven and earth will pass away,
but My words will never pass away.”

So, brothers and sisters —
build your life on what will last.
Not the temple of pride,
not the empire of wealth,
not the illusion of comfort —
but on the cornerstone who is Christ.

Be ready — not with fear, but with faith.
When the world shouts “the end is near,”
the Church whispers back,
“Yes — the Lord is near.”