Together We Wait: A Sermon for 1 Advent
Advent 1B: November 29, 2020
What are you waiting for? How are you waiting?
These are the two questions that Katharine Jefferts Schori asked in her Advent message when she was the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. And I think that these questions are still deeply relevant for us as individuals and as a community now that the season of anticipatory waiting is upon us.
One way to answer the first question is simply to say that we are waiting for Christmas. And if that is our answer to the first question, then the answer to “how we wait” can be seen and heard in shopping malls, the internet, and homes all over the country as the Christmas trees go up and, in our neighborhood at least, the inflatable Biker Santa.
Setting our sights on Christmas makes perfect sense. We know what to expect and when to expect it. And, if we concentrate on the faith-based meaning of Christmas, the birth of Christ, why wouldn’t we get all geared up for celebrating the incarnation—God’s in-breaking into the world to walk and talk and live and die as one of us, ushering in God’s Kingdom here on earth?
Yet, an often-neglected aspect of the Advent discipline of waiting is the perplexing doctrine of the second coming of Christ. But how do you exactly wait or plan for Christ’s second coming?
I certainly don’t see many folks lining up to organize decorations or holding pageant rehearsals for that one! And quite frankly, I’m not sure if the consummation of all creation is something that I particularly am looking forward to. I much prefer the thought of Christmas, where we celebrate Christ as a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, as opposed to the second Advent, where Christ will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead.
Now there are some Christians who are indeed very interested in the end times. Volumes of books and articles have been written, taking painstaking attempts to decode the Bible for the clue as to when the end will come, and who will be taken up in the rapture, and who will be left behind to suffer eternal damnation.
I struggle with this sort of spirituality, because I think these folks are asking the wrong questions. They want to know “when exactly.” They want to know “who’s in and who’s out.” And that brings me back to the questions posed by Katharine Jefferts Scori: What are you waiting for? How are you waiting?
So far, I have answered these questions in both positive and negative ways. The positive way is simpler: we are waiting for Christmas and we do that in a number of ways, ranging from the spiritual to the task oriented. The negative way was my admission that I honestly do not find myself waiting and planning for the second coming of Christ, and I think that those who do are oftentimes misguided.
But what if we were to ask ourselves as individuals and as a community, not just “What are we waiting for,” but rather, “Who are we waiting with?” This is a question that I can wrap my head around a little easier. I certainly do not know when the second coming will be or what it will look like, and if I were a betting man, I would bet that it wouldn’t happen in my lifetime.
And yet I do believe that certain glimpses of the consummation of God’s creation can be achieved in my lifetime. I believe that in specific situations peace can be procured, diseases can be eradicated, and restorative justice achieved. But rather than asking how I will wait for these things (and others), perhaps the better question is, “Who will I wait with?”
The quick answer for me is that right now, at this point in my life, I am waiting with you. So together we wait.
Together we wait for a hopeful sliver of light to shine through the darkness brought about by the death of a loved one.
Together we wait for an effective and accessible vaccine in the midst of a global pandemic.
Together we wait for a long illness to end, so that life eternal can begin.
Together we wait for the days to grow long again, when light will once again outlast the darkness.
Together we wait for relationships to be reconciled.
Together we wait for love to conquer hate.
Together we wait to be reunited with our families and friends who we have not been able to see during this pandemic.
In all of our imperfection, in all of our brokenness,
In all of our joys, and all of our hope, we wait. Together.
While the Church cannot predict exactly how or when all things will come to be, I am convinced that the Church CAN provide us the assurance that we will never wait alone.
We wait with Jesus and for Jesus and with one another, as one body.