Waiting for God's Second

 There is an old joke about a man who asked God:

“God, how long is a million years to You?”

God answered, “A million years is like a second to Me.”

The man then asked, “And how much is a million dollars to You?”

God replied, “A million dollars is like a penny to Me.”

So the man said, “Then, God, could You give me a million dollars?”

God smiled and said, “Of course. Just wait a second.”

It is a simple joke, but when I think about today's (18Sept2026)

first reading from St. Paul, it takes on a much deeper meaning.

Today, St. Paul reminds us that the resurrection of the dead is at the very heart of our Christian faith. If there is no resurrection, then, as Paul tells us, our faith would be in vain. But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, and He is the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

This makes me think about the people we love who have already died.

From our human perspective, death can seem like an eternity of waiting. Years pass. Decades pass. Eventually, those who knew our loved ones may also pass away. There may come a time when their names are no longer spoken, their stories are no longer remembered, and it may seem as though they have been gone forever.

But what is forever to us may not be forever to God.

We measure time by seconds, minutes, hours, years and generations. God does not measure time as we do. What seems to us like an eternity may be only a moment in God's time.

And so I sometimes think of the joke and imagine God saying to us:

“Just wait a second.”

Not because God is ignoring us. Not because He has forgotten those who have died. But because His time is beyond our understanding.

We may look at the grave and see an ending. God sees beyond the grave.

We see someone who has been dead for ten, twenty, fifty or a hundred years. God sees a person whose life is still held in His hands.

We see a long silence.

God sees only a moment.

That is why the resurrection is not merely an idea or a comforting story. It is the foundation of our Christian hope. St. Paul tells us that if Christ has not been raised, then our faith is empty. But Christ has been raised. And because He has been raised, we can hope that death does not have the final word.

Perhaps this is what faith asks from us: not to understand God's timetable, but to trust God's promise.

We do not know how long our “waiting” will be. We do not know what God's “second” means in the mystery of eternity. But we believe that God's promise is greater than our understanding of time.

So while we wait, we live according to the teachings of Christ.

We love.

We forgive.

We help one another.

We remain faithful.

We try to live the kind of life that Christ taught us to live.

And we continue to believe in the promise of the resurrection.

Because one day, when our human understanding of time has ended, perhaps God's answer will simply be:

“Your second has come.”

And then what seemed like an eternity of waiting will be over.

The dead will live.

Those who have been separated from us will be reunited.

And we will finally understand that, in God's time, it was only a second.

Until then, we wait—not with despair, but with faith.

Because Christ has been raised.

And because Christ has been raised, we have reason to hope.