Advent: Waiting for the Already?

Advent seems so remarkably simple and uncomplicated. It is that time in the church year of joyous expectation as we wait for the gift of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem. That event by which God came into our world to share our joys and suffering in the person of Jesus – the Messiah – and who turned the accepted and anticipated upside down. This Messiah was not born to royalty in a palace as was expected of the “the new David”. Instead he was born to a poor carpenter and his betrothed in the stable of an inn because they were poor and there was no room for them-- at least so the innkeeper said. No, we await not a King but a suffering servant, who in his life and teaching and most especially in his death revealed that love is more enduring than might. Light has come into our world and the darkness shall never overcome it. What a wonderful gift to wait for.

But, of course, we know what gift is behind the door. There is no real surprise waiting in the dark. The birth has already happened. We know who was there. We know the parents and the baby’s ancestry that connects him to the house of King David. We know that wise men -- sorcerers and philosophers -- came from the East following a special star to find the baby in swaddling clothes. We know that the shepherds in the Galilean Hills were visited by angels and were lead to the manger where Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus rested. Indeed, we know the full story of the life of this Emmanuel (God with us), including the surprising ending -- on Easter morning.

And so Advent is a little like replaying a favorite movie – the one that we know by heart and enjoy every time we see it. Or a little like reading again that favorite book -- the one that is dog-eared from reading and rereading – pulled out again when we need a moment of joy and hope in our lives. And there is nothing wrong in joyously preparing ourselves -- for watching and listening -- yet again to this most poignant, powerful and hopeful of stories. But there is a risk if that is all we do. For if you think about it when you watch that movie for the 4^th time, although you can repeat the dialogue and know each scene by heart, it has lost the freshness that jolted, moved or challenged you initially – becoming often nothing more than comfort food for one’s stressed out and tired mind and soul.

Advent is, therefore, not simply about waiting for an opportunity to rerun a wonderful event that took place 2000 years ago. As the texts from Paul’s letter to the Romans and from the gospel of Matthew -- that Don read moments ago -- remind us we are not waiting for something unexpected to happen. Rather something profound has already happened, and we are in the midst of something extraordinary. Roughly 2000 years ago time changed. In a prosaic way we are reminded of that every time we date an event. It is either 800 BC or AD. Or using the more politically correct new system, it is either 800 BCE (“Before the Common Era”) or 800 CE. However you slice it, for most of the world, time is divided into that which occurred before Christ’s birth in Bethlehem and that which occurs thereafter.

But it is not our methodology for tracking time that Paul is referring to when he says to the Romans “you know what time it is, how it is now the moment to wake from sleep.” Jesus’ birth that we await again in this Advent season marked a new era for creation. Light came into the world. God demonstrated such an abiding love of creation that he sent Jesus into the world to share our suffering and joy and to show us what it means to live in God’s image – to be that which God intended for us. We have been given a blueprint for how to live faithfully. In Jesus who arrived to little fanfare in a stable -- love triumphed over powers and principalities and over death. His birth, life, teachings, death and resurrection changed everything – they gave each of us the opportunity for new life. To use the wonderful metaphor of the gospel of John, the light came into the world and “shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it.” So it is that while we wait to celebrate again the wonder and joy of Christmas, we are reminded that the light has already come into the world.

But let’s be clear, while the light has come into the darkness we are not yet at high noon bathed in the bright light of a midday sun. No quite clearly we are still in the early morning – when there is light but much around us is still obscured in the darkness. The light has come into the world and illuminated the way forward: the challenge is for us to follow that way. That is the message of our passages from Paul and Matthew. We are in this moment between the dawn of Jesus’ coming in Bethlehem and his promised second coming and the time of judgment. How we get from the stable in Bethlehem and the Tomb in Jerusalem to that promised time in the future is in our hands.

Advent in an ironic way challenges us to look both to the past and also to the future. On the one hand, we rightly prepare ourselves in this season to hear and celebrate the Christmas story, to absorb its beauty and wonder, and to be reminded of the hopeful message of love embodied in Jesus. But on the other hand, we are in this Advent season challenged to look to the future to that path already illuminated for us to walk.

Looking back is relatively easy but looking and moving forward is not. Why? It seems to me there are two hurdles at this time of year. We risk becoming so mesmerized and so enthralled by the Christmas story that we never move beyond re-living the past. In effect we simply put the well-loved Christmas video back into the DVD and play it again and again. It is so easy to do because the story is so poignant, joyous and hopeful. The late Hal Luccock, a Professor of Preaching at Yale, noted many years ago

We can become so charmed with the story of a baby that we grow sentimental about it, it does not ask that we do anything about it; it does not demand any vital change in our way of thinking and living.[1]

But rather than simply listening again to the story, we are challenged by Paul in Romans to know that Jesus by coming into the world has changed everything including the time, and most especially we are challenged to act now -- “to put on the Lord Jesus Christ”. What a wonderful metaphor! At this time of year it is not sufficient to put on that tie with the Santas on it, the sweater with a reindeer or that “Talbot’s red” outfit. Rather we are to put Jesus on like the clothes we wear. What Jesus represents, what he preached, what our faith dictates -- should be a part of us like the clothes we wear. It should be with us every where we go – not simply when go to church but in our homes and in our offices. Occasionally, I reflect back on my own earlier life in law practice and think about how often I parked my faith in the garage before I went up to my office. It’s not easy to bring the imperative to love one’s neighbor to the “real world”. As Paul rightly notes the great commandment to love God and our neighbors is the sum and fulfillment of all the commandments. If we really love our neighbor (and understand that neighbor includes the whole human race) we will avoid harming our neighbor by coveting their things or stealing from them. The commands we know so well will be honored. But more importantly this imperative to love our neighbors involves an affirmative duty to them. We can comply with many of the commandments by doing nothing. But the commandment to love our neighbor requires action. Think about it -- isn’t that the essence of Jesus’ life walking the dusty roads reaching out to others of all stripes and continuing on to Jerusalem for us – not fading into the Galilean hills to save himself? In the face of oppression or injustice to another we are required by our faith to act. So the question becomes: Are you loving your neighbor if people do not have shelter, if children do not have access to education and health care.

Recently, a transaction was announced involving the sale of a major Texas utility to several private equity groups. The details of the transaction are not important but what has stayed with me were the provisions in the deal that effectively reduced in the future the carbon emissions from energy generation to below anticipated levels. Some talented and responsible people found ways to create a viable financial transaction that enhance the wider community. If we wear the clothes of faith when we go into the conference rooms and offices where deals are done and business transacted, there is a higher likelihood that the general good will be factored into those deals and transactions.

The second hurdle to looking and moving forward down the path Jesus has illuminated for us is that we get discouraged. Isaiah said that in the fullness of time,

It has been 2800 years since Isaiah’s time and 2000 since Jesus’ birth. How many plowshares and pruning hooks do we have? How many swords and spears? The words of the Lord’s Prayer that we just said, “your kingdom come your will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” remain our fervent wish and prayer but an exceedingly distant reality. It is easy to get discouraged in the face of the world’s problems—in the face of so little progress on so many fronts. It is easier and simpler just to look back to Bethlehem and the wonder and joy of the birth. But we must not get discouraged and avoid the path Jesus has illuminated for us. Jesus’ promise of a new world that began with his birth in Bethlehem has no expiration date -- at least not one known to us. Matthew tells us to be awake, “for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” This was the message to the early church; while the specific date for the Day of Judgment was not known, it was coming and one should live so as to be prepared. Discouragement was not an option.

We don’t think much about the second coming and most of us do not shape our behavior and actions based on how they will be seen at the Day of Judgment. Most of us do not worry about whether we are a sheep or a goat or whether we are to be saved or dammed. I confess to not having spent much time thinking about God’s judgment -- preferring to place my faith in God’s mercy. But I think there is a faith imperative that compels us to continue on that path Jesus has illuminated for us beyond any fear of what will befall us at the end of time. That imperative is our awareness of what our world will look like if we don’t fellow Jesus’ path and cloth ourselves in Jesus Christ. If we don’t, what will happen to the divine gift of creation – including this planet -- that we have been given? Can we be confident that it will survive if we fail to love our neighbors each and every one of them and act with that in mind. If we fail to clothe ourselves with Jesus, can we be sure that there will not be more acts of genocide, new crusades. Advent asks us to look both to the past and the future at the same time. Seems impossible but it’s not – it’s simply a matter of having a living, well worn faith.

I would like to end with a prayer adapted from some words from Frederick Buechner, the great writer and preacher

Dear God, in the darkness of the virgin’s womb the holy child grows. In the darkness of the world’s pain, the blessed light begins to kindle. In the darkness of our own doubting of you and of ourselves, the great hope begins to rise again like a lump in the throat: hope that you will come to us truly, that the child born so long ago will yet be born again in our midst, the Prince of Peace in a world of war, the hope that you will ransom us and our world from the darkness that seeks to destroy us.

O Lord, the gift of new life, new light, can be a gift truly only if we open ourselves to receive it and begin to walk down the path your Son has illuminated for us. So this is our prayer Lord that you will open our eyes to see the glory in the coming of the light each day, open our ears to hear the angels hymn in the stirring within us of the joy at the coming child, open our hearts to the transforming power of your love that we may be able not simply to look back to you gift of new life but to move forward to make that gift a reality so that we bear the tidings of the birth of the babe to a world that dies for lack of Love.[2]

[1] Halford Luccock, A Sprig of Holly (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1978) p.42

[2] Adapted from a prayer in Frederick Buechner, Secrets in the Dark: A Life in Sermons (New York HarperSanFrancisco, 2006) p. 55