One thing I find myself telling my children, particularly when they refuse to do as they are told, is, "You seemed to be confused about who is in charge here." They seem to think that they are in command of our family. Even though they rarely get their way, they keep trying through their defiance of my will, to exert their own.

I find myself thinking of that phrase as I reflect on the readings for today's celebration of Christ the King. We're told in the first reading that the "Son of man received dominion, glory and kingship; all peoples, nations and languages serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away, his kingship shall not be destroyed."

In today's second reading, the letter to the Hebrews declares: "'I am the Alpha and the Omega,' says the Lord God, 'the one who is and who was and who is to come, the almighty.'"

Today's readings make it very clear who is in charge. It is, of course, Christ the King. He is ruler of all things. Forever. We belong to his kingdom if we listen to his voice.

I guess I should listen to my own voice too. For just as my children get confused about who rules our family, I get confused about who rules my life. I lose sight of the truth that God is in control of all things, and find myself struggling to assert and maintain control of my own world. I want to make sure that nothing comes between me and my plans. If God's plans seem to contradict my own, I fight them.

Why in the world, I ask myself as I ponder today's readings, would I resist the will of the Alpha and the Omega, the one who was and is to come, the almighty? Why wouldn't I want to align myself with the loving plans of an eternal God? Why would I think I know better than God how to manage my life?

It seems silly, but I know that when I want something for myself - at work, at home, in friendships and family relationships - I typically want it on my own terms. When I lose control, I assume that God has lost control as well, and I frequently panic and try all the harder to enforce my own will.

If Christ is truly King of all, and "his dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away," then maybe we don't have to try so hard to maintain control of our lives. Maybe what little control we do feel we have is an illusion at best, and we'd be better off relaxing, listening and letting the real King guide and direct us.

And maybe we'd find that we experience a serenity and belonging that surpasses any security we can manufacture by our own wills.

First Sunday of Advent

What are you waiting for? It's a common question, and one I find I'm asking myself this year as we begin Advent.

We're all waiting for something, I think. We're waiting for a job, or for financial relief, or for a relationship, or for our health to improve. It seems to be human nature to want something that we don't have. What are you waiting for?

Or rather, what am I waiting for? I am rarely content with my life. I want it to be better, and I think something better will come from outside of myself. I hope someone will bless me with more money, greater security or more time. Generally, I'm not too good at waiting. I want what I want now!

Advent, of course, is a season dedicated to waiting, and to preparing for what is to come. What are we supposed to be waiting for? We're waiting for the arrival of Jesus Christ into our lives and our communities. While we may hope that we win the lottery, get promoted or find true love, the season calls us to look to God for salvation, not circumstances.

It's not always easy to put our hope in God instead of circumstances. In some ways, it can be even more difficult at this time of year. Beginning in November, we are bombarded with advertisements for all the goods and services that promise to transform our lives. A luxury car with a bow around it might make us happy. Or a giant flat screen television. Or the latest electronic game might ensure that our children love us.

The good news of the gospel and of the Advent season is that God promises us an unconditional love that transcends circumstantial happiness. We are called to prepare our lives and our world for this love, to look for the presence of Jesus Christ in our world to give us all that we need.

It will be a challenge this year, as it always is, to detect the presence of Jesus amid the persistent materialism of the retail holiday season. It is ironic, of course, that the season when we celebrate that love is more powerful than things is also the season when we are most publically obsessed with things. The commercials, the gift lists and the party schedules can easily overwhelm our experience of God's grace and goodness.

God promises us relief from the pressure to shower ourselves and others with material gifts. And God offers us a love and acceptance that cannot be purchased or won.

So, what am I waiting for this Advent? I am waiting, or rather searching, for the presence of Jesus in my life, and I am turning away from the things or circumstances that promise happiness. There is nothing wrong with wanting a job, a relationship or good health, of course. These are wonderful gifts and we should be grateful when we receive them.

But they are not the objects of our faith, and they cannot give us what God promises - an unconditional love that will last forever.

Bill Peatman writes from Napa. He may be reached at bptidings@yahoo.com.