I don’t know if you’ve had the chance yet to read Bishop McConnell’srecent meditation on “Waiting in Advent.” I thought it was really quite
insightful—and of course from him, always beautifully written. I’ve shared it with the St. Andrew’s Facebook
page and sent a link also to our E-mail distribution list. And by the way if you haven’t seen it yet
because you haven’t “liked” the St. Andrew’s Facebook page or because your
e-mail isn’t on our distribution list, please let me know and we can get you
connected. For those who don’t want to
work via the digital technologies, there are paper copies as well on the
credenza in Brooks Hall. A very nice
resource to add to our Advent.
Again, about all this waiting,
and this morning, from 2 Peter 3
The Lord is not slow about his
promise as some count slowness, but is forbearing toward you, not wishing that
any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a
thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements
will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and the works that are upon it will
be burned up. Since all these things are
to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading
lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the
Day of God? Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to
be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish, and regard the patience of
our Lord as salvation.
I think a lot of what gives Advent its richness and resonance is the elegant
way in which it holds in tension, in balance, the anticipation of Christmas, which
is of course all around us--the annual re-telling of the story of the Birth of
Jesus, with all the liturgical and cultural and social and commercial
expressions built around that re-telling—and what we might call the gestational anticipation that all
Christians have of the Great Day, the Great Day, when we shall see and know and
experience his Second Advent, in power and great glory, to judge all peoples
according to his righteousness. To set
things right once and for all. It’s not
like we choose one Advent or the other.
We hold them both at the same time.
These two Advents--across the range of holy time, past and future--and
so profoundly connected that in some sense neither can be true and fully known
without being seen clearly in reference to the other. We remember, and as we remember we at the
same time lean forward in hope, in expectation.
Insofar as we celebrate the
Savior’s Birth, a time of warmth and joy.
I heard someone say the other day, “God is crazy about you. That’s the meaning of Christmas. God is crazy about you. And then at the same time as we look toward
the East for his arrival on the clouds to bring judgment and justice, a time of
sober penitence, prayer and fasting. Our
patient preparation, in the space of God’s patience, while we come around to
him, while the Holy Spirit works in us. He
is crazy about us, he loves us so much that he will give us this space of time
as the Spirit works in us, so that we will be ready when he comes.
And so we go on living our lives.
Days, weeks, years, decades, and it turns out centuries. Generations. The fullness of the Kingdom, the Manger, the
Empty Tomb, the promise of his return: already,
but not yet. And to think about how
we live in Advent, these weeks in December that we as Christians set aside in a
special observance, as a way of thinking about how we live our lives. What the theologians call an “interim
ethic.” Those reborn in Christ, baptized into his death, joined to his
resurrection, are gradually over the course of our lives prepared here in this
world for the life of the world to come.
What will he find in us, when he comes?
Every once in a while someone will say that we Christians are called to
be “Easter People,” and of course the victory of his resurrection is the lens
through which the whole story must be read.
But in another way, and I think in a richer way, it is right to say that
we are called to be “Advent People.” In
this middle ground. Where we don’t get
it perfectly, not on this side of the Kingdom, but where we somehow do what we
can to make progress, if we make progress, just a little at a time. The Holy Spirit working in us. But nourished by Word and Sacrament to live
and to serve him in newness of life. Just
to find an hour a day to pray, to read his Word. Or five minutes . . . . So our Advent is to describe how we get ready
for Christmas, and this second Advent—how we get ready for the fullness of his
Kingdom, when he comes again.
Like the servant who doesn’t know when his master will return. Who has to get things ready and to keep
things ready, so that all will be in order when he arrives. Like the well-prepared virgin bridesmaids, whose
lamps were filled with oil. Like the Steward who can give a good account to his
Master of the Talents left in his care.
How do we live in the meantime? What
sort of people are we to be, as Peter sets the question before us this
morning. John the Baptist seems to have
a pretty clear idea, in his preaching out there by the Jordan River. Especially in our modern lectionaries he
rises up as a defining character of Advent.
Preaching baptism for repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths
straight. What kind of person should I be? How do I live
in the meantime. To be engaged, to
enjoy. To tend my garden, care for my
family, complete the work here that he has given me to do, with creativity and
enthusiasm as best I can, but without trying to hold on to the things that are
passing away. What kind of church are we
supposed to be? A good question to ask
and think about. As a lot of us
are. What’s going on around St. Andrew’s
right now? What kind of direction and
correction and repentance and renewal are we being called to? Why we need Advent. Just as the Hebrews needed those 40 years of
Wilderness life to be cleansed of the vestiges of their Egyptian slavery, to be
prepared to take possession of the Land of Promise. Just as the ancient Jews needed their decades
of exile in Babylon and Egypt and Persia, to come to terms with their
unfaithfulness, to re-orient their lives in relationship to God.
So, this Advent, for us. Peter
says that this space, this interval, this wilderness, this life we share,
December 2017, all of it, is for us the patience of God, he’s holding back, not
turning the page quite yet for the next chapter of the story, while the Spirit
works in us to sort things out. The
First Advent in one hand, the Second in the other. And certainly in the meantime to cultivate
this Advent quality in our own lives. At
church, at home, at work. Patient with
one another. Patient with
ourselves. The Eastern Orthodox call
Advent a “Little Lent,” and it is a space for us like the days of Lent, remembering the call to observance on Ash
Wednesday, to the observance of a holy season, “by self examination and repentance;
by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s
holy Word.” A reminder to make good use
of the time we have.
The Lord is not slow about his
promise as some count slowness, but is forbearing toward you, not wishing that
any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a
thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements
will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and the works that are upon it will
be burned up. Since all these things are
to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading
lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the
Day of God? Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to
be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish, and regard the patience of
our Lord as salvation.
Blessings again in this Advent, this New Year of our lives. While we still have time, in this Advent, walk
in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself for us, an offering and a
sacrifice to God.
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