Happy Advent and Happy New Year! Today is the first Sunday of
Advent, and the first day of the Christian Year. I know Advent is met with some
trepidation. Whether it’s the unfamiliarity of the hymns, the stark nature of Advent,
or simply having to wait, Advent is often maligned and underappreciated. Part
of that is due to what goes on in the streets and on TV. It’s been Christmas
since before Thanksgiving, if the stores are any indication. Everyone else is
doing the Christmas thing. What’s the harm?
All around us and everywhere beyond us, it’s already Christmas. This
makes our holding on to Advent hard culturally.
It’s made even more difficult because of how we’re wired inside. We
want shiny new things, and we want them now. We all are wooed by
immediate gratification. Waiting is something we try to avoid having to do,
whether it’s getting in the shortest line at the grocery store, or wanting
Christmas hymns now. The whole concept of Advent is hard, both because of what
goes on outside in the world, and inside, in our heads and hearts.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Lutheran pastor jailed and eventually
murdered by the Nazis, wrote of Advent, "Life
in a prison cell reminds me a great deal of Advent. One waits and hopes and
putters around but in the end what we do is of little consequence. The door is
shut.”
I can relate to what Bonhoeffer said. Sometimes waiting is
like being in prison. So much is out of our control. Whether you’re waiting for
a doctor, waiting for news, we feel powerless, because we are powerless. What
we do is, as Bonhoeffer says, of little consequence.
We can change little, if anything of the circumstances out there,
beyond ourselves. We can’t make the delayed flight, the doctor’s news or
Christmas come any sooner. It is out of our control. And we don’t like it when
we are not in control. We don’t like waiting.
This is why I think we don’t like Advent. We don’t like waiting. Now
there is a part of Advent we can get behind. Not only is a time for waiting,
but it’s a time for preparing. We do that well with our world. We tidy,
decorate, cook, bake, clean, purchase wrap. We do a lot of preparing of that
world around us. Advent provides us a time to prepare. And we take all of that
time to prepare our setting.
But here’s the thing. This isn’t the kind of preparing that we’re
asked to do. When we’re supposed to be preparing, I’m pretty sure it isn’t
about the Christmas cards, tree or presents. What today’s readings tell us is
that now is the time to wake from sleep, to put on the armor of light. Now is
the time we are to be ready. Why?
Because we do not know the hour or time when God’s kingdom will come.
It’s back to that waiting thing. We don’t know when the Son of Man
will come. And to step back even farther, we’re also a little confused about
what that even means – when the Son of Man will come. Beyond the immediate
coming of the Christ baby, what did Jesus mean when he said “But about that day
or hour, no one knows?”. What day? In
this instance, a little confusion is in order, because throughout time,
theologians have offered very different understandings of what that means, the
coming of the son of man. Some people and some traditions see that as the
return of Jesus Christ to earth, where there is a final moment of judgement.
This is made popular by some Christian billboards, and apocalyptical writings,
such as the “Left Behind” series. Some people and some traditions see this as
the moment of every person’s death, when you meet Christ and are judged based
on your life. Finally, others think about this as the Christ’s reign on earth,
here and now, through God’s actions and ours. Regardless of which of these you
see the coming of the kingdom of God, the Gospel reading is pretty clear about
what happens at that time.
Jesus starts by rooting this moment of judgement in history. At
the time of Noah’s Ark, people were going about their business, and many were
swept away. Jesus continues the illustrations with every day activities of both
men and women. Men in the field, women grinding grain. One is taken, one
remains. Pretty stark. Jesus continues that like a thief in the night, we don’t
know when this will happen, so we can’t really prepare. Yes, if the homeowner
knew what time the thief was to come, he’d be prepared. But we don’t know when
we’ll meet Christ face to face. Regardless of which of the meanings of that
resonates with you. We don’t know when we’ll meet Christ in this world here and
now. We don’t know of the day of our demise and we’ll meet Christ, and we
certainly don’t know of the time when Christ will return and judge all of
humanity.
Enter the world of social media. Anyone who’s posted anything to
Facebook, or snapchat or any of the others, or anyone who even remotely
understands what Facebook is, knows that it provides an opportunity to post a
picture of a moment. People post a picture or a saying or a cartoon of what’s
happening or where their head is at that moment. It’s a snapshot of someone’s
day, an event, a meal. It provides a way to record that moment and share it. It
memorializes a moment. And then life goes on. The dinner is over, the sunset
fades, the trip concludes. The next time there’s an interesting day, thought,
event or meal, there will be another post. Facebook and social media in general
provides a still life of what’s happening in my life, our community, our world.
It’s a series of still lifes, of moments.
That’s what I imagine the coming of the kingdom of God to be. It
will happen in a moment. And I hope the moment it comes is one of the moments
I’d be happy sharing. I want to believe, that I’ll be working at the community
breakfast, praying, or otherwise being light in the world. But of that time, no
one knows. What happens if I encounter Christ and I’m grousing, or angry, or
not helping my fellow man?
The Gospel tells us it could happen at any moment, and if we knew,
we’d stay up and catch that thief. But we don’t. I don’t get to decide. It
could happen at any moment. While we cannot stay hypervigilant for every
moment, there’s one really good and easy thing we can do. That is to be present
for every moment, to believe and act as if this is the moment we meet
Christ. This is the moment. Every single moment we’re given. We are physically
present, and we can choose to be emotionally and spiritually present too. This
may be the moment I meet my maker. This may be the moment I meet Christ in my
neighbor, in the alien.
Every moment we have, we are given the choice, as Paul writes in
Romans, to either lay aside the works of darkness or put on the armor of light.
I received a gift from a dear friend today. It’s a book full of light and hope.
There’s a quote in there from John Tillotson, Archbishop of Canterbury in the
1600’s. “Fill each day with light and heart”. That’s what we’re asked to do as
Christians.
Back to Advent and its time of preparation. What if, instead of
preparing our external world, we worked on preparing inside? Of working on
being aware of each moment? Of
cultivating a habit presence to this moment. To this holy moment. Advent, with
its intended absence of hustle and bustle, the opportunity to take things a
little slower and simply wait, gives us a chance to catch up to each of our
moments. To sit in silence. To pray. To slow down. To think about the moments
you’ve had, and think about any way you can to be more present with the moments
you may have tomorrow. How can you be fully present and fully sharing Christ’s light
and love in the world in every moment you are given.
Try during this Advent to increase your awareness that THIS moment
may be the moment that matters. This may be the moment you come face to face
with Christ. Try to live each as if that’s true, because it might be. Take
Advent as an opportunity to be increase your awareness of each moment, to not
rush through this season, cleaning and decorating and buying gifts. We cannot
reflect Christ’s light if we don’t recognize it. And we can’t recognize it if
we’re too busy rushing about, and preparing our external world without
preparing our inside world.
It is only with God’s grace, as the collect says, that we can put
on that armor of light, that we can even recognize the light or Christ’s holy
presence in and around us. It is not up to us. We can’t do it on our own. We
can’t bake enough cookies to truly be prepared. It is through a connection with
God.
I’ll close with the quote from Bonhoeffer, this time with the
concluding sentence which I conveniently left out before. "Life in a prison cell
reminds me a great deal of Advent. One waits and hopes and putters around but
in the end what we do is of little consequence. The door is shut, and it can
only be opened from the outside."
Enjoy Advent.
Sit. Be still. Be aware. Wait for God.
Amen
