December 11, 2016 Third
Advent James 5: 7-10
Good morning. A little
liturgical history to start with. The
season of Advent evolved as a mirror
image of the season of Lent. Originally
a parallel six weeks in length, and the fourth Sunday in both observed as a
pause for refreshment in the fast, with purple or black vestments and paraments
temporarily replaced with a soft rose color.
In Lent the Fourth Sunday, “Laetare Sunday,” in Advent, “Gaudete.” The names of these days taken from the first
word of the Latin text of the Choir Introit appointed for the day. Both words are generally translated in
English as “rejoice,” Though the have
slightly different nuances. Laetare is a
bit more inward in connotation, while Gaudete has a sense of outward expressiveness. By
the time of the reforms of the calendar at the Council of Trent in the middle
16th century Advent had been abbreviated, now four weeks, and Gaudete
Sunday observed on the Third Sunday. The
Choral Introit, “Gaudete in Domino
semper; iterum dico, Gaudete.” From Philippians
4, as St. Paul wrote to that little church:
“Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.” (Our Choir’s Introit this morning, in
English rather than Latin.)
I would pray with all this that we would each one of us hear the mid-Advent
message and word of encouragement and refreshment in those words and in the
quiet and lovely symbol of the Rose Candle. Maybe thinking of it not so much as for one
particular day on the calendar but even more as a Biblical word about the
character of Christian life that we would be encouraged to explore and
cultivate 24/7/365, in the sense that we are all our lives in the midst of an
Advent, the in-between time, as we wait for the full realization for the
victory that Christ as won. That our lives and our relationship
individually and as a congregational family, in our families and schools and
where we work, everywhere, that this word of Gaudete would settle in as we wait for his coming. So that the world would say, these
Christians, how gentle they are, how good, how kind, how generous, how full of
joy. These Christians, how they love one
another. Rejoice in the Lord
always. And again I will say,
rejoice. The Lord is near.
As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I’m following the Epistle Lessons
appointed for Advent in our lectionary A this year (and if you would be
interested in having the series to take home with you for daily reflection, there
are still copies in the narthex and over in Brooks Hall). On this Third Advent Sunday morning we turn to the Letter of St. James in the 5th
chapter , and the Brother of our Lord and leader of the early Christian
community in Jerusalem speaks pastorally to his congregation of the character
of Spirit that makes the joy symbolized by our Gaudete Rose Candle a
possibility. The beginning of our
selection this morning, verse seven, is the heart of it. Short and sweet: Be
patient, until the coming of the Lord.
That’s James’s main pastoral message first to his congregation, as they
lived in confusing, uncertain, tumultuous times—and then the Advent message for
us this week, for the times we live in. Be
patient. A word to an impatient
people in an impatient world. A patient
spirit is the fruit of a life rooted in Christ Jesus and the condition that
allows Christian relationships to grow.
Again: families, communities, congregations.
Allowing ourselves to be impatient, to give way to anxiety, can be so
destructive—as I think we can see evidence of this all around us. The headlines in the morning paper and the
sad mess of so many lives and families and communities and churches. Perhaps even a sense of anxious urgency can
be a tool of the Enemy, to work real spiritual harm, along with so much emotional
and material and physical harm. As a
farmer plants seed into the earth and then waits carefully and confidently as
beneath the soil the germination begins and the first growth of the new plant,
so James says, “take a breath.” Restfully,
confidently. There may not be much to
see when you look at the newly planted field, but there is so much more going
on under the surface. To be patient
until the coming of the Lord. The full
harvest is beginning, coming along just as it is supposed to, but slowly and silently. To the naked eye the world may show no
evidence of what Christ has done. The
works of darkness continue, human brokenness and sin and strife--in our homes
and families and our cities and nations.
Even tragically in the life of our Church and perhaps most of all in the
people we look at when we look into the mirror in the morning. But be patient, says James: be patient, and
trust in the Lord, who has begun a good work, a perfect work, and will bring it
to completion. Establish your hearts in
hope, trust him and trust this process of transformation, trust in what he has
promised, what he has demonstrated for us in the victory of his Cross.
Patience is a difficult thing.
Especially rare in our culture, with our mentality of the race to the
finish line. Buy now, pay later. We
want what we want, and we want it yesterday! Some have said we in this time suffer from a
kind of collective Attention Deficit Disorder.
Reflected so often in our marriages and family life, in our sense of
vocation and career, in the crazy way the misuse of drugs and alcohol and money
and sex cascades all around us. A world
of secret potions and magic wands and politicians and salesmen and religious leaders
on every side promising the moon. Buy now, pay later. The latest diet book on the supermarket
magazine rack: “30 days to a new you.” So
often we push ourselves, we push our kids, we push each other. Sometimes just a nudge, but other times with violence
of words and actions. Because we can’t
wait to have what we think we need to have—we can’t wait to get to where we
think we need to be.
But Advent is about this patient waiting. About re-centering. Calling us back from the edge, calling us away
from the storm of busyness: about discovering,
exploring, finding the deep contentment of a patient life. Waiting for Christmas each year is a little part
of it. An annual discipline, just to see
if we still have it in us. Waiting for
Jesus to be known and to make a difference in our lives and in our world. Waiting for Jesus to come again, in power and
great glory. Leaning forward with
anticipation, but with a heart that is content, a spirit that rests in
confidence.
Advent isn’t just about four
weeks in December. It is instead a
re-set button for the whole year, for how we understand ourselves, how we
live. It is about the character of our life in
Christ. About who we really can become
as we turn to him in faith, join ourselves to him, place ourselves in his
hands.
Again, may this holy season of Advent and especially this Gaudete
Sunday be a source of enrichment, a time of deep and patient contentment, of grace,
of joy, and of peace. “Rejoice in the
Lord always, and again I will say, Rejoice.
Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.”
Walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself for us, an offering
and a sacrifice to God.
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