First
Sunday in Advent
Matthew
24:36-44
We have officially begun the season
of frantic festivities. Many have enjoyed a Thanksgiving feast, complete with
centerpiece and candlelight, smiles and shining faces. The first round of
celebrating has taken place. The calendar is already filling up with things to
do and places to go. Over the next few weeks, you may invite guests over or you
may be the invited guests. The preparations are in full swing. Unfortunately,
no one—neither hosts nor guests—know exactly the day and hour of the
invitation. What an odd situation, which makes things a bit uncertain, don’t
you think?
That isn’t quite the same situation
as Jesus and his disciples face, but it would certainly be one just as strange
and uncertain. Okay, so the disciples are buying into the fact that Jesus is
leaving them and even that he is returning sometime in the future. Being the
disciples, what they really want to know is how will they
be able to determine just when that future moment will be. All Jesus can do is
advise them to stay alert while they await his return, to watch for the signs
he has described, but as to the day and time, he can’t help them out with
that. Jesus is clueless! He doesn’t know, the angels in heaven don’t
know. Only the Father knows, and God will pick the proper and perfect time.
You can almost sense the disciples’ reactions. They’ve followed him
everywhere, they’ve misunderstood him and been confused by his teaching,
they’ve wrestled for position within the group, they’ve had to do some
difficult things, and now they’re barely clinging to
Jesus’ promise that he will return. Slowly, the light dawns—he’s telling them
that he can’t even give them the time of day—or even the day! We’re in that same position—we live lives waiting for
his return, preparing for God to send his son again.
Everyone here in worship today
encounters periods of waiting. We wait for the light to change, we wait for the
mail to come, we wait for the phone to ring, the doctor to call or the teacher
to grade and return tests. We spend time waiting at the checkout line, waiting
for our order to be taken, waiting for the first date to walk nervously up the
sidewalk. These are not even in the same category as waiting for Jesus to
return, but it’s waiting nonetheless. How we wait reveals much about the kind
of people we are. There is a fine art to the practice of waiting, and I’ve
observed people fit into about four roughly defined categories.
First, there are those who see
waiting as an opportunity. They make those times of waiting productive. I’ve
seen people balancing checkbooks, writing notes and cards, and doing needlework
of one sort or another. Before we could drive, my sisters and I could always
count on one Christmas gift to be the product of our mother’s waiting. She
waited for us after band practice, cheerleading practice, play practice, and
for those buses to return from long road trips. She waited away those hours
with her crochet needle flying and miles of yarn turned into scarves, toboggans,
and ponchos. This first group keeps busy while waiting.
The second group spends their time
waiting seemingly tuned out to the world and those around them. They detach
themselves through reading the newspaper, working crossword puzzles or word
searches, leafing through magazines or diving into the pages of a good book.
This group waits by engaging in intellectual activities.
. . busy and productive.
The third group includes those who
are not good at waiting at all. You know the ones. They drum their fingers on
the table, tap their papers with their pencils, twirl their hair, nibble their
nails, give hard looks, and usually mutter impatiently. They view waiting as a
personal affront to their internal time schedule and everyone near them knows
it. This group has an edginess to their waiting.
The last, or fourth, group has an
entirely different demeanor. They settle down, seem to center in on themselves
and sit back to observe. They are the people watchers, alert to what’s going on
within the humanity around them. We might imagine that Jesus would have
appreciated every way we have of waiting—from creating things, remaining
mentally active, staying observant, and even impatiently pacing.
Today, with the lighting of the
first Advent candle, we officially begin the church’s season of waiting and
watching, preparing to celebrate the advent of the Christ child, the coming of
our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. BUT the world would have you believe
otherwise. It’s going to be hard, as it always is, to stay focused—the world
impedes our focus with its countdowns, seasonal music on the airways, men in
costume on corners or sitting in velvet chairs, sale flyers flying, and
catalogs coming. Distractions abound, but Jesus cautions his disciples—and us—to keep watch, stay alert because, like the earlier
mentioned guests who will drop in unexpectedly, no one knows the day and hour
when Jesus is coming. In fact, we are told that Christ will come when we least
expect it . . . and that we are to expect this unexpectedness! What enlightens
and upholds us is not the “specifics of the when” but the “promise of Christ’s
return.” That’s the good news! Jesus
doesn’t say “if” or “maybe” or “perhaps;” Jesus says “I will come again!” In John 14, Jesus promises that
“When everything is ready, I will
come and get you.”
Distractions are everywhere, and
they cloud our focus. We can get so caught up in the world’s seasonal
preparations that we have no time to sit back and center on the guest, on
Jesus. We are like the people of Noah’s time who continued with their daily
lives, refusing to prepare,
oblivious to what was happening—until the moment the flood hit.
Advent was never meant to be the
Amazing Race, the Marathon of Many Tasks. Advent is not about our “To Do”
lists. Advent is not the end in itself, but it is the pause that is filled with
the bigness of anticipation just as Mary is filled with the bigness of her
child, our Savior. We are always waiting, always preparing—whether
it is during Advent or Lent or
Pentecost or any season of the church year. Peter Marshall once wrote that he
prayed for “the discipline of patience, for to wait is often harder than to
work.” Advent is about preparation, yes—anticipation and expectation,
certainly. That expectation helps to spark our daily devotions. And when we
come to church—it is here that we’re once again reminded. It is here that
anticipation grows keener and clearer because it can be shared with the members
of our church family. For it is also here that we learn together what it means
to “keep watch.” With the lighting of each new candle, God pulls us into the light; God makes our dark world brighter. And at
the moment when the acolyte reaches up to light the very last candle, the
Christ candle on Christmas Eve, God lets us bask in the light of his Son, and
the light will be as bright as the sun.
Paul, in writing to the Romans,
encouraged them to put on the armor of light, to clothe themselves
with the Lord Jesus Christ. It is often the case when we don someone’s clothing, we often reflect that person’s characteristics.
God wants to help us dress for the party, no matter the day and hour it is
going to be held. Where can you and I be light to the world? Where will the
light of Jesus Christ, shining through us, chase away the darkness of the world?
How can our patient preparation shine in the darkness and shout our obedience
to our Lord’s teaching?
Copyright © November, 2004 Cheryl
Siegenthaler,
Grace Evangelical Lutheran
Church