by Rev. Carole Horton-Howe
Please note that the following sermon text was provided prior to the audio recording. The two versions may differ substantially.
Luke 21:25-36
Jesus said, "There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud' with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near."
Then he told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
"Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man."
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy that we feel before our God because of you? Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you face to face and restore whatever is lacking in your faith.
Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus direct our way to you. And may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, just as we abound in love for you. And may he so strengthen your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.
This is the Sunday in the church year when we get to wish each other a Happy New Year! The church year begins with Advent. But the reading from Luke doesn’t seem very celebratory, does it. I have to admit that each year on this Sunday I get a little verklempt. Whether we’re in Year A, B or C of our lectionary – this year it’s C – the readings are foreboding and frightening. I want to hear about the first coming of Jesus with images of angels and mangers and a heavily pregnant Mary. But it’s about the second coming of Jesus.
We’re also treated to a reading from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians. These early Christians also were concerned about Jesus coming again. A little bit of history about them: Paul formed them during his second missionary trip that included the northern part of Greece there Thessalonica was located in the later 40’s C.E. The church there consisted of members from pagan religions who had embraced the good news that Paul brought them. Like most early Christians, the Thessalonians had an understanding that followers of Jesus would all experience the return of Jesus during their earthly lives. That, of course, did not turn out to be the case. And they were distressed because some members of their community had died. What would happen to them, they wondered.
This letter, which is the first authentic letter of Paul to a church that we have, reassures them Jesus will come again, that they will be united with him and with all believers, all the saints who have died and who are already with him, one day. And Paul gives them guidance on what to do as they wait.
That’s the invitation that we’re offered in the readings today: to a holy process of watching and waiting through the season of Advent. As believers, we have a chance to wait a little differently, to look at beginnings and endings and beginnings again with a focus on the things of God in creation.
The author Sue Monk Kidd describes in her book “When the Heart Waits” this type of watching and waiting through the lens of creation. She was at crossroads in her life that she had not anticipated and did not welcome. Things that used to matter no longer did; things that had never mattered were suddenly critically important. Her life, she says, had curled up into a question mark.
So in her stress and impatience, she would walk, long walks through a dense forest. On one of these, she looked up as she passed beneath the branches of a dogwood tree. Her eyes somehow fell onto a strange kind of pod suspended from a twig just over her head. Looking closely she realized it was a chrysalis.
She touched the bottom tip of the tiny brown chrysalis. In that moment God seemed to speak to her about transformation. She understood crisis, change, all the myriad upheavals that blister the spirit and leave us groping for something to hold onto.
Sue took the branch of the dogwood with the chrysalis home with her and attached it to a tree in her yard. And she waited. Like Jesus pointing to the seasons of the fig tree, she survived and thrived through her own crisis by looking past her own chaotic life and aligning with the cycle of creation going on right outside her window. She expected a butterfly to emerge but was content to let it unfold, to watch and wait.
Life is full of endings and beginnings. There are crossroads moments for all of us when an accounting is demanded and transformed living is called for, regardless of when those beginnings and endings occur and regardless of how prepared we might or might not be for them.
Living with an attitude of expectancy that things will unfold for us just as God unfolds all of creation is the antidote to living buffeted by the emotions of changes. The time to live ever present is always now.
Time spent waiting is not stagnant time. It isn’t sit at home, watching the clock tick off the minutes. Paul’s message to the Thessalonian church is a reminder that all the time our faith looks outward. It’s never just about us. It’s not even just about our congregation. It is about seeing the city, the nation and the world as our community to nourish and inform the faith of all those around us. We are to decide about our faith for ourselves but not by ourselves. We are part of something much bigger. Anyone who participated in the Thanksgiving dinner preparation or distribution or received one of the 271 meals prepared by a member of this church on the patio a few days ago knows what that means.
Photo by Torsten Dettlaff from Pexels
This Advent season of waiting, consider the possibility of going into Christmas making an affirmative commitment that focus on what is good, and just and true. So that we, like Paul suggested to the Thessalonians, might restore whatever is lacking in our faith. I know you’re all familiar with Advent calendars. Each day in December leading up to Christmas there is a little door to open to a Bible verse and possibly a piece of chocolate.
What if we were to decide to wait with an Advent calendar of holy waiting and watching, something unique to each of us? You might set aside a can of food each day to donate it to a food bank on Christmas eve; or take the spare change out of your wallet or pocket each day and add it to a bank to donate to a charity that works for a cause that holds special meaning for you. Or write a note of encouragement each day to the nurses of a hospital, hospice or clinic that cares for COVID patients. You might even find a space in your garden to plant your own fig tree or a tree that will do well in this climate. Or keep a journal each day filling in the blank “Today, waiting feels …….” what?
On Christmas Eve, as you look back at the words you’ve chosen, or the tasks you’ve done, what will you have learned about watching and waiting? I pray we will all have experienced signs of God birthing new life in our midst and the Kingdom of God come near. Amen.