My six-year-old had been quiet for a while when, out of the blue, he asked his question…
“Is Advent a struggle?”
What?
“Is Advent a struggle?”
What do you mean by that?
Exasperated, he repeated himself once more, “Is Advent a struggle?”
His earnest blue eyes stared at me from across the table…waiting.
What could he possibly mean by that? Had he overheard some snippet of conversation over the newspaper? Had the apocalyptic texts we’ve been hearing in church as we approached Christ the King frightened him?
Bewildered, I tried to get some clarification on his question…
Which brings me to the now. The now of reading the scriptures appointed for the first Sunday of Advent, the first Sunday of the church year, the first day of today and the last day of today. The now.
So, dear ones and neighbors, is Advent a struggle?
(Pause)
Are you struggling as you enter into this season? Are you wrestling with what it means to be a human in this time and place? Are you tired? Are you despairing? Are you afraid?
What are you struggling for? What are you struggling for as you wait for the promised day?
(Pause)
What are you struggling for as you wait for the day to come?
The day to come, when peace prevails.
The day to come, when our brethren, our companions and neighbors, prosper.
The day to come, when we wake up to the fullness of God’s love.
(Pause)
Love, peace, prosperity...all on the day to come. And, our feet are wearied from the walking. Our, hearts hurting from what our eyes have seen. Our, minds confounded by words that make no sense and deeds that bring no peace.
And, it is into this time and place that the word of God is spoken. This time and place in which the Word of God is made known.
In this time and place.
In the midst of our struggle and confusion…God speaks to those who are wearied and woeful.
Sleepers awake!
Startled, we look up from the road we are walking.
Sleepers awake!
Startled, we look around.
Sleepers, awake!
And, upon waking, what do you see? What do you see when you look about at your neighbors and friends? What do you see when you look about your towns and your villages? What do you see?
(Pause)
Who sees pain? Who sees despair? Who sees loss?
(Pause)
Who sees hope?
Is hope hard to see?
One night, not that long ago, the power went out in the middle of the night. The fan in our room stopped humming and, soon thereafter, one of our children woke up and began to call for us, frantic. He was frightened by the loss of even the small light cast by the nightlight and didn’t know what had happened to rob the night of the light he had come to rely upon.
I leapt from bed and, instantly, lost my bearing. In the disorientation caused by sleep, and without the dim light beyond our bedroom door, I couldn’t find my way out of the room. I began to panic, stumbling about in the darkness—desperate to find my way.
I didn’t know how badly I needed even that small bit of light to find my way. To find my way—my way to the place of the greatest need.
I needed the light to guide me. To guide me to the pain and the fear and the hope.
The hope that calls out because there is trust that help will come.
And, while I could not see the light, I could hear the need. And, I sought out the voice that led me out of sleep and towards the place where I’d been called.
Sleepers, awake!
You are needed in the night. The cry has come and you must respond. You must respond to the hope that calls out for the way to be made known.
For, this is Advent. This is the Advent of our God.
“‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob;
to the house of the God of Jacob;
that God may teach us God’s ways
and that we may walk in God’s paths.’
and that we may walk in God’s paths.’
For out of Zion shall go forth instruction,
and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
God shall judge between the nations,
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
and shall arbitrate for many peoples;
they shall beat their swords into ploughshares,
and their spears into pruning-hooks;
and their spears into pruning-hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.
neither shall they learn war any more.
O” people of St. Clement’s,
“come, let us walk
in the light of the Lord!”
“come, let us walk
in the light of the Lord!”
People of St. Clement’s, let us walk in the light of the Lord, towards the place that cries out in hope, towards the love that longs to be made known, towards each other, so that we can draw near to the God who has called to us in the midst of what is, with the promise of what may be!
Let us do so, not because of fear that we will be left behind, but because of the joy that we are here. We are here to do God’s work in the world. We are here to transform weapons of war into a means of peace. We are here and that is what is needed.
We are needed. We are what the world needs.
So, wake up. But, not for yourself, but for the world that has called to you. Wake up, but not for the getting, but for the giving. Wake up.
For, this IS the Advent of our God.
And, we are here now.
We are here, in the midst of struggle and in response to hope,
we are here…
Not to wait, but to respond.
As you consider your own response, I invite you to a time of prayer with the backdrop of author Madeleine L’Engle’s poem, “First Coming”,
First Coming, by Madeleine L’Engle
He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.
He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine.
He did not wait till hearts were pure.
In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.
In joy he came to a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.
He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.
We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!
from A Cry Like a Bell
Amen.
(And, since you asked...I eventually figured out that my 6 year old was wondering if he would have more chores during Advent. The struggle is real!)
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