FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

November 27, 2005

Isaiah 64:1-9; First Corinthians 1:3-9

 

HOW LONG

 

              This is the first Sunday of Advent and the beginning of the second year of the 3 year Lectionary cycle of scripture readings or lessons that are suggested for each Sunday.  I wonder if you have ever noticed how the seasons of the Church year, Advent, Christmas\Epiphany; Lent, Easter, Pentecost mirror the calendar seasons.  For example, last Sunday was the 27th Sunday after Pentecost.  The Sundays of Pentecost take us from later May or early June through the long summer days and into the flurry of harvest and conclude when winter begins to take hold.  Lent, on the other hand is during mud season.  Need I say more?   The lessons and the seasonal themes of the cycle are background material providing enhancement of or inspiration for our weekly sermons and choir selections.  I would imagine that no one pays much attention to the headings in the Order of Worship that announce the 18th Sunday after Pentecost or the 3rd Sunday of Lent or, today, the First Sunday of Advent.   Yet those seasons have historical roots that pre-date Christianity and as I described Pentecost are most reflective of the agrarian culture of our ancient past where life revolved around the planting and harvesting of crops and the struggle to survive long and dangerous winters,  Advent marks the beginning of that struggle. 

            Advent is a ritualized anticipation of the coming of the Christ Child; of the inbreaking of God into human life.  This is the part that we love and do so well.  It is Advent Candle lighting and the Youth Advent Worship and the Hanging of the Greens and the Community Christmas Carols.  It is the Sound of the bells and the voices of the choirs.  It is as colorful and joyful an expression of our life together as one could ever hope for.     Yet Advent is more than the time of Carols and the flurry of shopping; and  the squeaky trip down the aisle of our beloved wooden donkey.   Advent calls us to ponder serious questions.  Within the Advent lessons there are themes of anger, fear and hope that need to be heard against the backdrop of world events.

More than the other church seasons, I am deeply attuned to Advent just because it is so evocative of the real world beyond our lectionary lessons and our carols.  Throughout this season we hear twin, almost indistinguishable themes of yearning for the inbreaking of God into human life and eager anticipation for that inbreaking light to occur.  Those themes are played out during the darkest time of the year and amid the dark times in which we are living.  Advent occurs at the season of the year when darkness comes earlier each day and the cold begins to seep into one’s bones. 

Despite our overlay of sophistication, I think that there is almost a primordial anxiety that overtakes us during this dark time.  When the leaves are gone, the branches bare and the snow beginning to appear, I encounter an annual shocking surprise, the diminished daylight.  We humans can control a lot of our environment but each year we are defeated by the natural movement of the earth in relationship to the sun.  It is a bit unsettling to go out in the morning in the dark and come home in the evening in the dark.  In terror, our ancient ancestors prayed to a variety of Gods to preserve them from the darkness that seemed to be sucking the very life out of all creation.   In our modern world, things are different.  We thank God for Thomas Alva Edison and Henry Ford.  We turn on our headlights as we negotiate our cars down familiar roads that are made alien by the dark.     Familiar landmarks look different in the dark and we drive with either greater hesitation or greater confusion during this season.  I find that my steps are quicker as I walk through dark parking lots into stores.  My 21st century logic is challenged by that ever so slight nagging fear that accompanies darkness and nothing is more comforting than coming home to light and warmth and the security of a locked door. 

Perhaps at our most basic level, we are not very different from those ancient ancestors.  No matter how sophisticated we are, the darkness is a reminder us of our fragile humanity.  But we have grown beyond the superstition of our ancestors.  We have replaced that superstition with science.   We know what the absence of light does to the human psyche and the distress that is caused by Seasonal Affective Disorder.  The depression that many folks find in themselves during this long period of gray and dark is very real.   We don’t have anything to fear of the dark, we tell ourselves; and yet, perhaps we do.  So Advent reflects unsettling feelings that are in all of us as the sun disappears.

But Advent is more than an individual struggle with darkness.   It is a collective cry that is poignantly captured in the Carol:  “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel that mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear.”   The plaintive words of that ancient Advent Carol that we sang as the first Advent Candle was lit puts into music the longing that is in the deep recesses of every person on the face of the earth.

            The darkness of this season is, in a way, a metaphor for the darkness that weighs heavily on the peoples of this world, a darkness that has been present in various forms throughout human history.  That darkness that has our world in a seemingly unbreakable bond is known by many names:  AIDS and famine in Africa; war and suicide bombers in the Middle East.  It is called poverty In India and Haiti and racism in our own country.  It is the deterioration of our environment and universal fear of an uncertain future.    Like the cold that seeps into our bones, the darkness seeps into our spirits undermining hope and leaving us groping for whatever comfort we may find.  With the eyes of darkness we see no light; we sense no possibilities; we mourn in lonely and angry exile.  We look around us at the world filled with pain and suffering and we cry out with Isaiah the demand that God not abandon us to the darkness that we have created.   Because the dark that we most fear is not night; it is those human addictions to greed; power; control that corrupt the souls of individuals and governments alike.    “Come and fix all the brokenness,” we pray.  “Come and make us behave.”  “Come and make us whole.”  And we shake our fist at heaven, shouting with Isaiah:  “Tear the heavens open and come down..the nations would tremble at your presence.”    Like spoiled children who make demands on their parents to fix the favorite toy or go buy a new one, we call on God to fix the earth; to repair the ozone; to restore peace and justice within and between nations; and we’d like it all by Christmas.

There is no adequate answer as to why we humans have throughout all the centuries of existence persisted in creating and perpetuating darkness; why we are our own worst enemy.  And we yearn for relief.  We yearn for relief from ourselves.  If only God would come into human life and make us better than we would be able to finally defeat that darkness.  There is a theology that has been a part of the religious understanding of all of us for generations.  That theology places God somewhere above us far away in heaven.  With somewhat benevolent indifference, God observes the actions of humanity and marks time until in God’s time, the second coming will take place and those sheep and goats will be separated.   

            That was once but  is no longer my theology.  As I said, Advent is ritualized.  The season begins with that carol:  O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.  The Hebrew word ‘Emmanuel’ means, in English, ‘God with us.’  God will not be coming to clean up our mess because God is now and always has been with us.  God shares the darkness with us.  If God can feel pain, God’s pain is reflected in children dying from hunger and young men and women dying in war.  God is made manifest in the life, death and resurrection of Christ who shows us how to defeat the darkness, if only we would listen and respond.  And remember that when the darkness is profound, there is light that holds the darkness from engulfing us.  The light may be found in the actions of those who ease pain; in the voices of those who call for justice; in the words of writers and poets who describe a world of peace and good will.  The light may simply be a parent teaching a child by example to love and respect all neighbors everywhere.

            Each week as the Advent Candles are lit, let them be a reminder that darkness is real but darkness can and will be overcome by the light.  We can not say how long it will take but we need not worry for God is with us.  Amen.