Advent 1

 Advent is my favorite season of the church year.  It comes as we see less and less of the sun in this part of the world, bringing hope and anticipation, just when I need it most.  I feel small in Advent, God’s plans in place bringing us a Savior, the big night sky reminding me of my insignificance, but also that God works through insignificant people.  It is a dark and quiet season, of watching and waiting.

It seems we’ve been doing a lot of waiting lately.  We waited to visit loved ones, to go on vacation, to celebrate, to go to the movies.  We waited to come to church together and catch up in person.  We waited for school to be back in person, for jobs to come back, for gyms to be open.  And many of  us are still waiting.

The early Christians were waiting, too.  They were waiting for freedom from Rome.  They were waiting for the return of Christ.  Some of their waiting was in dread.  Would their family disown them?  Would they personally be persecuted?  Would they have enough food?  Would they be asked to give their life for their faith?  Would wars and earthquakes cause the end of the world? 

And much of their waiting was in hope.  God had been faithful before—they could expect God to show up again and lead them.  They were on the edge of their seats for Christ to return with the angels.  They were hopeful for the age when all tears would be wiped away, when the truth would be revealed about the corruption of powerful leaders, when everyone will feast together, when God’s laws will be written their hearts.

Sometimes we wait in dread.  Who will get sick?  When will the hospitals be full?  Who is not being careful enough and when will they spread it to someone else?  Will the vaccine have unexpected side-effects? 

And we also wait in hope.  Many of us have used this time of waiting to be generous to the poor and provide food for those who are waiting for a hot meal.  We’ve been knitting and crocheting hats and blankets so those who have been waiting for warmth don’t have to wait anymore.  We’ve been writing letters and deepening relationships over the phone. 

We wait with hope—not for everything to be the same as it was before, because it wasn’t all that great then, either.  We wait with hope for the coming of God’s reign.  When people are experiencing health, God’s reign is breaking in.  When they can find meaningful employment, that’s God’s reign breaking in.  When we care for our natural world, that is God’s reign breaking in.  When we share with each other and show love to each other, that is God’s reign breaking in.

We wait with hope—not for everything to be the same as it was before.  This season is called Advent, meaning “beginning.”  Something new is happening.  That might be hard to grasp, because we’ve experienced many of us a great many Advents.  How is this not the same old thing?  It isn’t—it’s something new.  Yes, Jesus came as a baby those thousands of years ago.  Each year we tell the story as if for the first time.  His birth may mean something this year that didn’t occur to us last year or ever before, because we are different than we were last year.  Our world has changed and our perspective changes. 

But this Advent isn’t just about that Advent so long ago.  We are actually between 2 Advents—the one of Jesus’ birth and the Advent yet to come of Jesus’ second coming, when he will fully reign, and we will be fully in his light. 

As they waited for Christ’s return the early church experienced a lot of different emotions.  They were excited.  But as time wore on, their excitement faded.  They were hopeful.  They thought that Christ’s return was imminent.  They were waiting and watching faithfully.  And they were doubting.  They were fearful.  The Roman Empire was cracking down on them.  They felt grief that the events were not unfolding as expected.  Some fell away, and others persisted, even to us today. 

We wait.  We hold that hope and expectation, but we’re in it for the long haul.  Our faith can take some bumps and delays.  Despite our circumstances, we still look for the signs of the Kingdom coming, and we look with hope, because we know a faithful God.

Some say that Christ has already returned, that the second coming has already taken place, but that we cannot recognize him among us.  But we do and we can.  Where people hunger and shiver and thirst, Christ is among us.  Where people are imprisoned and deported, Christ is with us.  Where people are lonely and despairing, Christ is with us.  And now the Advent of God’s reign comes through us to bind up the broken hearted, the heal the sick, and feed the hungry, and welcome the little ones, to visit the imprisoned and clothe the naked, to see Christ in each other and to live the fullness of the reign of God.

This year a lot of people are putting up their Christmas decorations early, to bring cheer in a dreary season, a slog through quarantines, a time of loss and grief and fear.  Each time we see those Christmas lights, let us take a moment to breathe, to realize how God is faithful in the most dismal times, how that star shone to the wise ones and guided them to a Savior completely foreign and vulnerable, and how the light of the world is coming.  May we be encouraged. 

I feel sad, I do admit.  I miss my family and my friends.  I miss being alone in my house.  I miss swimming.  I miss coming to the church most days.  I miss worshipping with singing and seeing all of you interacting.  I miss shaking hands, hugging, people stopping by my office to talk.  However, God is doing something new.  I know you in a different way now than I did before from seeing you interacting on Zoom.  I have seen the care you take with each other.  God’s love is breaking in.  God is here.  And God is faithful.  However long it takes for God’s Kingdom to fully arrive, I’m in it for the long-haul and we all will continue watching for signs of the Kingdom and for opportunities to participate in it.