Advent XIV (Radical Change)

Advent is about radical change.  The gospel lesson which pushed the church into this Second Week of Advent is a word about John the Baptist that takes us back several centuries to the prophet Isaiah.  This Old Testament prophet spoke of one who would come as a "voice in the wilderness."  (Isaiah 40:3).  The language of preparation is powerful as we consider the images created with the ancient words.  The one who would come to prepare Israel for deliverance would come in such a way as to "make a highway in the desert."   

The making of the way for the deliverer would be like valleys being lifted up, mountains being made low, rough ground being made level, and rough places being made easy to walk.  (Isaiah 40:4). What we hear is not a prediction of some cataclysmic earthquake, but instead, a word which speaks to the fact that His coming will be about radical change.  John the Baptist was the one who prepared the way of the Lord by calling for radical change of the heart.  His call for radical change was framed inside a message which called people to the work of repentance.  Repentance is about radical change of the heart.

If we miss the Advent word which calls us be about radical change then we have missed its message completely.  We have drifted off to sleep as did the disciples in the Garden or as did the bridesmaids who waited for the bridegroom.  We have decided that Advent is about Christmas trees, gift lists, and church programs and have drifted off with these visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads.  The truth is Advent is about being ready for imminent coming of the Lord.  The place where readiness is truly required will be unseen by others for it is the radical change of the heart that will enable us to live in sync with the will of the One who is out there just beyond sight and, yet, still somehow already here among us.

Advent XIII (The Hard Choice)

After the First Sunday in Advent with its emphasis on Jesus coming again, we go to church looking for someone less threatening to us and we get John the Baptist.  The Second Coming of Jesus may speak of a judgement to come, but with John the Baptist we get judgement in the now.  John's message is one that does not beat around the bush.  "Repent, for the Kingdom of God has come near."  (Matthew 3:2).   Some translations translate "has come near" to say "is at hand."  The point is the Kingdom is nearer than we figured when we got up this morning.  It is inching closer.  It is nearer.  It is at hand.   

What John tells us to do in light of this reality is to repent.  Repentance is a tough word for our culture.  It is a tough word for us.  It means that we acknowledge that there is something wrong.  It means taking responsibility for the sense of wrong in us that causes us to feel somehow separated from who we were created to be.  It means there is a brokenness in our life.  Perhaps, harder than taking responsibility for those attitudes and deeds which we allow to exist in us that separate us from our Creator and His intentions for us is accepting the fact that there is nothing we can do to make what is wrong right.  We can therapy ourselves to death, but at some point we have to come to the hard moment of repentance.    

To repent not only means we have chosen the wrong path, it is not only about acknowledging our sin against God, but it means turning away from the wrong choices to ones that affirm life and declares that we belong to God.  To repent literally means turning around so that our life is directed toward a different goal.  It means depending on what Christ has done for us on the cross instead of what we are trying to do for ourselves. When we hear John's call to repent, we hear a word which calls us to turn away from anything which separates us from God.  We look that way no more.  Our eyes are focused not on accomplishing our will, but upon His.   

Advent XII (The Kingdom Life)

When we read the prophets of the Old Testament, we see a culture gone awry and we hear God's words of judgement.  What we also find midst all the harsh words of the prophets who speak for God are words of comfort and hope.  God's judgement is not so severe as to exclude hope and deliverance.  Out of those times when the Hebrews went after idols and alliances, wealth and military power, there were always words which pointed toward a God who could never completely forsake and abandon His people.  When the Apostle Paul wrote "For whatever was written in former days was written for instruction, so that by steadfastness and by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope,"  (Romans 15:4) he is speaking to our day.

This Word which serves the church as part of the Epistle Lesson on the Second Sunday of Advent is a word of hope which originates in the crucible of despair.  How many times have we known it to be true that there are moments when we have stood with hope and hope alone?  Even in those hard, dark, and difficult moments of life when hope makes no sense, we dare to claim it as the only way forward?  Hope is our life line to the future which is unseen and yet unfolding in God's time.  Though it might seem to some that we grasp at straws as we grasp for hope, we know differently.  

Hope is what keeps us moving when we stand midst the mire of hardship and suffering.  It is what enables us to see what is still not yet fully seen which is a life where every injustice will be righted, a life where there is no hunger and war, and a life where "God will wipe away every tear...death will be no more, mourning and crying will be no more."  (Revelation 21:4).  It is Advent's hope that shouts that this Kingdom of God life is coming.  

The Deepening Mystery

The closer we walk with God, the deeper is the mystery around us.  It would seem that a nearness to the Holy One which has been growing for years and maybe even a life time would enable us to see more things clearly.  It only makes sense to our common sense that deepening nearness would bring greater understanding, but it can only be said that the exact opposite is true.  There were times in the beginning when we thought we knew something about God.  As we walk into the years with which He graces us, we finally come to the place of knowing that what we do not know will always be greater than what we know.  

One of the things which has loomed largely before me in these closing days of the year is the way each year brings about changing landscapes, changing relationships, and changing goals.  In the small town which adjoins the farm, it is often said that nothing ever changes, but we know it is a lie.  Even the local community cemetery is expanding its grounds to accommodate the change!  It should not surprise us that our relationship with God is unfolding into a life that would not be recognizable to the young person we used to be.  

When we read that Corinthian passage about believers being new creations, we often think it is a once and done thing.  We meet Christ and we are changed, but what is really true is to say that to meet Christ is to enter into a life of constant change.  Not only does the relationship call forth from us different things in the different seasons of our life, but He begins to reveal more of Himself to us in such a way that draws us deeper into holy mystery instead of the expected understanding.  We catch more glimpses than visions.  We become more aware of what is invisible and waiting to be seen.  The Word about the Kingdom of God coming and being in our midst makes more sense even if we see ourselves straining to see it.

Advent XI (Maranatha)

The Old Testament reading for the second Sunday of Advent comes from an Isaiah passage that is worn out with human hoping.  It speaks of a time not yet come, but one for which we hope.  It is a passage of powerful images, "The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid...the cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together....the nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp...They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain..." (Isaiah 11:6-9). It creates images idyllic enough for Camelot and perfect enough for Utopia, but the images of Isaiah go far beyond what mortals can comprehend to speak of the Kingdom of God.   

We can sense something of how extraordinarily different the Kingdom of God is and will be as we contemplate our existence in the here and now.  As Tess of Hardy's novel would say, we live on a blighted star. We live where the devil lurks like a roaring lion.  We live in times so darkened by evil that it seems foolish to even hope for light.  Martin Luther had it right as he penned that hymn of the church which causes us to sing, "but still our ancient foe does seek to work us woe, his craft and power are great, and harmed with cruel hate, on earth is not his equal."    

Advent is a season within the life of the church which causes us to express our longing for a new world, a world where love and peace and good will does indeed prevail, but we know that despite all our best efforts, the world of our hope will not come completely among us until Jesus returns to establish His Kingdom upon the earth.  It is for this reason that the cry of the church is always, "Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus." (Revelation 22:20)

Advent X (A Defeated Foe)

There is a sense in which Advent prepares us for the Christmas, but to a greater degree it is designed to help us to prepare for the final Christ appearance.  To be focused solely on Christmas coming to the point that the still to come Christ becomes simply an invisible passenger in the back seat is to miss entirely the core meaning of the Advent season.  Who actually is driving the Advent season is not the baby in the manger of Bethlehem, but the King who is to come one day out yonder in the future to bring an order into history for which we can in the present only hope.    

We not only live in a time between the first and second coming of Jesus, but we live in a world where we hope for good and see so much evil.  As much as we would like to think it is possible, evil has not yet been overcome.  Neither is it likely to be overcome tomorrow.  It does not make its appearance in the creative acts recorded in Genesis, but it shows up not long after the creative work is completed.  We see its stain across the story of the Old Testament and its power being unleashed on that day when Jesus was hung on a cross.  The pages of history may record the progress of humanity, but alongside the progress are always the evidences of the lurking power of Satan.  

Advent does nothing to diminish the power of the evil one.  It does not deny its presence.  What it does do is announce that while it for some reason is allowed to work its woe, its power will one day be not just diminished, but destroyed when Christ comes in the clouds in His final victory.  This is our hope.  Between now and then, in the. midst of evil is where we live.  Our final hope is not in what we are able to do, but in what Christ is going to do when He comes again.  

Not So Quick

There are moments which change who we are.  Perhaps, it is more appropriate to say that there are moments which begin an unfolding process of change whether we are ready for it or not.  It may be true that we can be changed by a single experience, but to look at such a moment more reflectively is to understand that we were moving toward that moment long before it came.  Such is the case with Saul of Tarsus on the Damascus Road.  Preachers like myself have used that Biblical story many times to illustrate what might be called an instantaneous conversion.  (Acts 9).  Sometimes I wonder if such a thing exists.  

For example, when we first see Saul of Tarsus, he is a coat watcher for those who threw stones and killed Stephen.  (Acts 7:59).  What this tells us is that Saul heard Stephen's sermon.  He saw the violent reaction of those who were threatened by the young man.  He, along with others, was in the overflow of the heavenly shower of blessings which fell upon the servant of Jesus.  He went along with the others as they dragged Stephen out of the city to the place of stoning.  He watched the coats of those who threw the stones and he heard Stephen cry out, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." (Acts 7:60).  Saul was complicit in everything.   

We cannot read the story which opens up for us in the book of Acts without seeing the connection Luke was making between the stoning event and the saving event.  It has often been said that the church is built upon the blood of the martyrs.  Certainly,  the conversion of Saul is an illustration of this truth.  Saul of Tarsus may have come to his senses and opened his life to Jesus on the Damascus road, but it started back on that day, and, perhaps, even before when he witnessed the death of a man who willingly gave his life for the Christ.