Sermon: Hope in Darkness

Lectionary: Advent 1(C)
Texts: Jeremiah 33:14-16; Luke 21:25-36

I recently saw someone observe that Thanksgiving should be moved to October, when Canada has their holiday of the same name. Why? It could help spread out the number of preparations and activities that too often collide together. We might get a bit more breathing room. Instead of many folks traveling twice with only a few short weeks between, it could ease the burden of travel.

Some might object that, “Well, Thanksgiving isn’t a real holiday.” And it often does seem that way. I’m old enough to recall that even in my own lifetime, Thanksgiving was treated as a proper holiday, even by major retailers. We would get newspapers stuffed with Thanksgiving sales.

But no more. First, who gets the massive Sunday newspapers with inches-high stack of ads? And businesses, especially conglomerates and big boxes, realized that Christmas is a much more effective motivator for people to open their wallets and take out plastic to tap and swipe. Thanksgiving has become a day of gorging and watching football (okay, I don’t watch, but I hear many do). And then it’s off to continue the frantic preparation for Christmas with Black Friday sales.

But enter Advent. The Season of Advent. It is not just a day. Not just a short extended weekend holiday. It is a season.

I grew up in the part of the Christian world that had no idea what Advent was. After Thanksgiving, it was suddenly Christmas. We would immediately switch to Christmas songs (which did include Advent songs, but we didn’t know that). Sermons were often a series on various Christmas topics.

In recent years, churches like I grew up in have learned that there are these four weeks called Advent, but frequently they are still treated more like a countdown to Christmas (like Advent calendars with treats inside), instead of what the Advent season is intended to convey.

Some of you know this about me, but others probably don’t. And that is, one of my hobbies is tabletop role-playing games, where a group of people come together and basically play a version of grown-up imagine and pretend.

Now, it might seem almost trite, but I think one way of better understanding and experiencing Advent is to imagine and pretend that we don’t know about Christmas. It hasn’t happened yet. On this first Sunday of Advent, the texts we read tell us that things in the world are not going so well. We have promises that they won’t go on forever, but we don’t know when God will appear. We live in the in-between time. What are we doing?

In this season between Thanksgiving and Christmas, it is too easy to skip over the difficulties of life and what is happening around the world, in this nation, in our communities, and in our families, and jump straight ahead to the miracle of Christmas. However, the season of Advent tells us to pause, wait, and think. It invites us in to take on the roles of those whose tomorrow is uncertain, who face food and housing insecurities, who might be unsure of their status with governing authorities, and who might be fearful of having their families torn apart by circumstances and policies outside of their control. We are invited to contemplate their fears and longing and empathize with them.

For most of us here, who live in relative comfort and security, I don’t think we fully understand what anticipation and hope for a better future means. I don’t think we fully appreciate what deliverance from this life means. For most of us, the status quo is not that bad. As we experience the Advent season, we are invited to imagine a life and an entire community that is uncertain, uncomfortable, and fearful. We are invited to read Advent texts. Do they offer something different than what we normally hear? Can we hear hope, deliverance, salvation, and assurance differently?

Hope, deliverance, salvation, and assurance are not merely spiritual longings. They are not primarily about individuals. It is not primarily about me, an individual person, being saved so that someday I can go to heaven. It is about what is happening in the larger community and the world.

On this first Sunday of Advent, our text includes,

²⁵ … On the earth, there will be dismay among nations in their confusion over the roaring of the sea and surging waves. ²⁶ The planets and other heavenly bodies will be shaken, causing people to faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world. (Luke 21:25-26 CEB)

We don’t commonly hear or use the word “foreboding”. Its definitions include “an omen, prediction, or presentiment especially of coming evil,” “a feeling that something very bad is going to happen soon,” and “a sense of evil to come.” This is the kind of time into which Advent speaks most clearly.

The reading continues, however,

²⁷ Then they will see the Human One coming on a cloud with power and great splendor. ²⁸ Now when these things begin to happen, stand up straight and raise your heads, because your redemption is near.” (Luke 21:27-28)

Verse 27 is often interpreted as the Second Coming event. But verse 28 indicates that whatever the Human One’s (or Son of Man’s) coming is, is still a sign for the future, a portent. Redemption is near, but it is not yet.

Jesus continues with a parable,

²⁹ … “Look at the fig tree and all the trees. ³⁰ When they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is near. ³¹ In the same way, when you see these things happening, you know that God’s kingdom is near. ³² I assure you that this generation won’t pass away until everything has happened. ³³ Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will certainly not pass away. (Luke 21:29-33)

The season of Advent is a look back to Jesus’ time here on earth during the first century CE. It is also a look forward to Jesus’ anticipated return to earth at an unknown time in the future.

The readers and hearers of Jesus’ words in Luke would have thought most of it to have been fulfilled by the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple in 70 CE. The remaining piece would have been the return of Jesus, which they fully expected to occur in their lifetime. Yet here we are two-thousand years from that time.

The reading from Luke concluded with the following words from Jesus:

³⁴ “Take care that your hearts aren’t dulled by drinking parties, drunkenness, and the anxieties of day-to-day life. Don’t let that day fall upon you unexpectedly, ³⁵ like a trap. It will come upon everyone who lives on the face of the whole earth. ³⁶ Stay alert at all times, praying that you are strong enough to escape everything that is about to happen and to stand before the Human One.” (Luke 21:34-36)

The exhortation here is to remain alert and be prepared for Jesus to return.

Returning to my growing up years, one of the central theological themes driven home was “to be ready” and “be prepared.” Implied and emphasized, again, was for me as an individual to be personally ready through a personal relationship with Jesus. The repetition and emphasis gave rise to the sense that because the message was repeated, it must be difficult to get ready and remain prepared. An unspoken fear was always present with the question, “I am really prepared?” I’m sure invoking fear was not the intent, but that was what I experienced.

Now though, I realize that these words of Jesus were never directed to an individual person, but to a community of the faithful. There is something about having others to rely on, others to help keep watch, others to pick another up when one falls, that is heartening and hopeful. Being ready and prepared is not a solo effort; it is a team undertaking. I think that the modern idea of salvation as a solely individual decision, consumed with one’s personal relationship to Jesus, is a distortion of the good news of the kingdom of God. What I see in the Christian scriptures is salvation and life in Christ as teamwork, not an individual undertaking.

Therefore, Jesus speaks to his community. His admonition to his community is, one, to not become so comfortable with how the world carries on that we become dulled to the hope that is found in him. And two, conversely, don’t become so anxious about what is happening in the world that we lose hope that is fond in him. Together as a community, we can help one another remain alert yet not anxious.

Returning to the experience of role-playing games, when playing the game, it is often a bad idea to run off and try to face challenges alone. A few bad dice rolls and your character could fall, die, or experience some other bad thing from which they cannot return. But having other members of the group around you means they can resuscitate you, they can help take the hits so you aren’t taking all of them alone, they can fill in your weak areas with their strengths, they can take watch while you take some needed rest, and so on. It makes survival and achieving success much more likely.

Advent does lead to Christmas. And it leads to the return of Christ. Advent is a time of preparation. Yes, we can prepare to celebrate Christmas. But it is also a time when we as a community of believers take stock of the spiritual path we are on. It is time to review how we are doing together to manifest the kingdom of God among the community in which we live. Are we hopeful people? Do our actions reveal our hope? Do we express concerns about what is happening around us without succumbing to anxiety? Do we act upon these concerns, bringing people into the kingdom of God, and be a beacon of hope in the world?

The season of Advent is not just a countdown to Christmas. It is a time for us to be reminded that the world is not how things are supposed to be. The world is not the kingdom of God and never will be. The time is coming when the world will be recreated into something new. But we live in the in-between time. As a community, we prepare for that new kingdom by practicing what it will, at least partially, look like when the kingdom principles are lived out among us. In this in-between time we look forward to the kingdom by living hope. We live justice. We live righteousness. Not to be saved, but because we are already saved, delivered, and redeemed. We live a life that is both alert and awake to the realities of this world, yet not succumbing to anxiety and fear.

At the beginning of today’s worship, we lit the candle of hope. I believe that the light of hope is not a solitary flicker, but one that is meant to spread to all who are in community, as we walk the way of Christ together and encourage one another. We do not travel the journey of redemption and salvation as solo travelers. We do this in community with fellow travelers on the same journey.

May we be people of hope. May hope be not just spiritual aspiration, but a way of life that is seen by all around us. May that be the attraction to the kingdom and to Jesus Christ.