Sermon 11/28/20: The never-ending Advent (Pr. Ben Adams)

Pr. Ben Adams

The First Sunday of Advent

November 28, 2020

The never-ending Advent

It’s finally here! No, I’m not talking about how it's finally the appropriate time to start listening to Christmas music or that package you’ve been waiting for to arrive in the mail, I’m talking about Advent. Here at Holy Trinity we’ve already been donning the blue vestments for three weeks now, but today officially marks the beginning of the liturgical season of Advent complete with our wreath and everything.

But I have to admit, something feels a bit different this year. It’s almost like this first week of Advent doesn’t feel as climactic. And as I wondered about that I realized that maybe this first week of Advent feels less climactic because we have been in Advent, a season of waiting, for nine months now. I mean just think about it, this pandemic season has had us waiting and longing for in person activities and an effective vaccine since March. Not to mention the election season that had us all waiting on pins and needles, and even now, President Trump is still mounting challenges and holding out hope that the election results will be overturned in his favor. Even though this marks the beginning of Advent, the question on our minds might be more of when will this season of waiting end?

So, preaching this first week of Advent is tricky. I usually always look forward to Advent because it feels like a patient countercultural liturgical season in an instant gratification world. But instant gratification is not really our experience right now so instead of doubling down and just focusing on the waiting, or on staying awake while so many of us are losing sleep, or on the increasing darkness of our days, maybe we can simply dream about what it is we are even waiting for?

The vision that our texts paint of what it is we’re waiting for is pretty apocalyptic. In Mark’s Gospel Jesus says, “But in those days, after that suffering,

the sun will be darkened,

    and the moon will not give its light,

25 and the stars will be falling from heaven,

    and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.

26 Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. 27 Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.”

And in our first reading from Isaiah, the prophet writes,

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,

    so that the mountains would quake at your presence—

2  as when fire kindles brushwood

    and the fire causes water to boil—

to make your name known to your adversaries,

    so that the nations might tremble at your presence!

3 When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect,

    you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.

These visions are filled with the frightening power of God, but to a community that has been waiting, quietly facing their own private armageddons many times over, the apocalyptic dream of the stars falling from heaven doesn’t sound like the sky falling, but a promise that God will tear open the heavens come down to save us.

And in the true spirit and meaning of the word apocalypse, which means revelation, this pandemic has revealed so much about our world. Racism and police brutality is being revealed in horrific ways, people are living so close to the economic edge that this pandemic has pushed them into freefall even as the stock market reaches all-time highs revealing that our economy is not the stock market, not to mention, and the political divisions in this country have been laid bare and revealed the real distance that exists between people’s different definitions of truth. Throughout all of these apocalyptic revelations, our scripture texts reveal to us a greater truth: one that promises that we can trust there is a relentless God that will stop at nothing and let no barrier get in their way to be with us. This is the promise that we wait with hope for.

And while we wait it is Paul today in First Corinthians who reminds us that we have been given everything we need to endure. Paul insists that we lack no spiritual gift. He says with thanksgiving, “I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, 5 for in every way you have been enriched in him, in speech and knowledge of every kind— 6 just as the testimony of Christ has been strengthened among you— 7 so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

We do not lack because we are still being made and formed and held in the palm of God’s hands as our text from Isaiah attests, “we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” 

There are signs of hope all around us, moments of connection, moments of peace, moments of love, moments of justice, moments of gratitude. Cherish those moments that remind us God’s presence among us, supporting us and holding us even in times of waiting, until at the last God’s dream is fulfilled and a new heaven and earth and all creation are resurrected.

I can’t tell you the day or the hour when this will take place, but we can trust the promise that God will be present with us and strengthen us to the end. And until that time in the words of the Reverend Lenny Duncan we can remain to be an, “incarnational community and a placeholder for the kingdom to come.”

So as we begin this Advent, even though it feels like a never-ending Advent, we can look with hope to the promise of God who stops at nothing, not even death, to come and save us. God’s grace has made us ready for that moment. In the meantime, God sustains us, God strengthens us, and God our potter’s hands support us in our waiting.  Amen.