Charlotte Collins Reed
Christ Church Episcopal
November 29, 2020
1 Advent B
At Compline and Conversation a couple of weeks ago, the
conversation prompt was “What are you waiting for?” The intent of my question was for us to think
about that for which we long and try to put words to those longings. However, one person in the group understood
the question to mean “What is holding you up?”
Waiting as longing vs. waiting as stalling is interesting to think about
as we enter this Advent season of waiting and anticipation.
What most of us were longing for that night, in one way or
another, was a return to life as we knew it in February. We are waiting to be able to hug, to have
time with family and friends, or to leave the house and run an errand with no
thought to germs. We long to sing together and make or hear live music, and to worship
and pray together in the same physical space. We long for the time when the rising
loss of life and health does not dominate our lives and the news each day. The
list went on and on of the specific things we long for these days and we find
ourselves growing impatient with the delay.
The Hebrew people are also waiting for life to go back to
normal and growing impatient in today’s reading from Isaiah. The people long for the life their ancestors
knew before the Hebrew people were exiled in Babylon in 586 BC. The people spent 50 years in exile before returning
to the Promised Land which was now a burned out wasteland. The people long for the glory days when
Israel was a military power and the temple in Jerusalem that Solomon built was
a place of worship fit for God. They
long for God to come down to earth and do something about their current situation
the same way God acted decisively in the past, leading them out of bondage in
Egypt and out of exile in Babylon. “O that
you would tear open the heavens and come down,” or a bit more politely in the
words of the Psalm “Restore us, O God of hosts.
Show us the light of your countenance and we shall be saved.”
The community to which the gospel of Mark was written is also
waiting. The early church had been waiting
for Jesus’ return ever since Pentecost and Jesus’ ascent into heaven. Mark was written around 70 AD. Jerusalem had fallen to the Romans and the
second temple, the one that was rebuilt after the Hebrew people returned from
exile in Babylon, lay in ruins. Life as
the people knew it had come to an end and they waited with all their hearts for
Jesus to return and save them from the Romans.
Jesus points to the darkness of those days and that suffering in this morning’s
reading and tells the people that when they see that darkness and that cosmic
suffering, they will know that the Son of Man is near, at the very gates. Jesus’ followers are to keep awake-four times
Jesus says this-so they are not asleep when Jesus arrives. Be awake, be ready, for God is about to act.
We enter Advent today, in the midst of Thanksgiving
weekend, at a time when the news feels almost apocalyptically bad. While a vaccine appears to be a light at the
end of the tunnel, much darkness and suffering appear to stand between now and
the mass distribution of that vaccine.
While certainly we wait for specific things-such as an end to mask
wearing, or the ability to sing safely together, or see family, and most
importantly the end to the loss of health and life caused by the virus-the whole
of that for which we wait feels like more than the sum of the parts, and in
that way I find myself identifying with both the Hebrew people in the reading
from Isaiah and the followers of Jesus in Mark’s gospel. The Hebrew people wanted God to come down and
do something. Jesus told his followers
that the Son of Man will send out his angels and gather his elect from the four
winds. We want God to do something as
well, preferably something dramatic and powerful that will stop the virus once
and for all. The Hebrew people wanted
life to return to the way it was, but they knew that was not really going to
happen. God calls us forward, not
backwards. Likewise, Jesus’ followers in
Mark’s gospel were waiting for Jesus to return and do something new, create
something new. But in both cases, the
people did not know what that forward, that new thing, would look like. I can
relate to that. We don’t know what the new normal will be when
it arrives or even how we will recognize a new normal. Lastly, in both cases, the Hebrew people and
Jesus’ followers trusted that God was about to do something, and they knew that
God would act because God had acted on their behalf in the past.
In the midst of this pandemic that has turned life upside
down in so very many ways, Advent calls us to trust that God will act and at
the very same time to watch, to keep alert, for what God is already doing in
our midst. And God is doing much-working
through health care providers and first responders to care for the sick and the
dying, using the skills of researchers and public health departments to find
ways to keep people safe, helping us find new ways to connect and be together,
providing us friends and family along with God’s abiding spirit to help keep
spirits up. And when we get discouraged,
and the journey seems too long, the apostle Paul promises us in the reading
from 1 Corinthians that God has already given us strength for this journey and
assures us of God’s faithfulness as we wait…for God to act in our midst, for
the Christ Child, and for whatever the future holds.
Waiting as longing vs. waiting as stalling. Advent calls us to name our deep longing for
God to come among us while being attentive to the ways God is active in our midst
now. Advent waiting is not idle waiting
but active waiting, calling us to look now, to stay awake to God’s action now,
to watch for the signs of God’s presence now. Advent calls us to see what God is doing now
and trust that what ever the future holds, God will meet us there. That is the
promise of the Christ Child for which we wait, after all. Emmanuel, God with us.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment