Advent VII

She was homeless, but not nameless.  There was nothing invisible about her.  Each day she could be seen walking through downtown pushing a grocery store shopping cart that was filled up over the top.  Half the year she spent with us in Perry; the other half she spent with folks in Tifton.  Since there was only one of her and many of us, she became the "official homeless person" who received more than cursory attention from the comfortable ones of the community.  One morning the custodian came into the office saying that she had broken into the building and spent the night in the warmer fellowship hall of the church.  When asked, she replied, "If ya'll hadn't left the door unlocked, I couldn't come in, so it's not my fault, but yours that I spent the night in here."

As I read one of the Old Testament lessons for early Advent (Isaiah 63:16-64:8), I remembered the words of repentance spoke long years ago in that church kitchen.  At first glance it might seem that the passage contains words of repentance on the part of the exiled Hebrews, but a closer read reveals a spirit not so different from the spirit of Adam in the Garden of Eden or us in our moments of accountability.  The Hebrews cry out to God, "...because You hid Yourself we transgressed...no one calls on Your name...because You have hidden Your face from us..."  As Adam blamed Eve, the exiled Hebrews blamed God.

It is what we do best.  When confronted by the reality of our own disobedience, we hunt someone else to blame.  We blame our parents who failed us.  We blame our friends who let us down.  We blame the tough circumstances of our life.  We even blame God who could have made things happen differently.  We want to do everything but say, "Lord, I am sinner.  It is me who has sinned.  I messed up.  Please, Lord, have mercy."    As Advent calls us to get ready for the One who is coming, nothing takes the place of honesty.  And, nothing will take the place of His mercy.

Advent VI (Isaiah 2:1-5)

Father God, I long for that hope You sought to give to your people when exiled in Babylon.  You told them overwhelming circumstances can change.  You told them they would once again know Your glory and majesty as in days of old.  You told them that they were not forgotten.  You told them You still had plans and purposes for them.  Though enduring hopelessness, You gave them reason to hope for a new day.  Father, I need to hear those Words anew in my life.  I need the hope only You can give.

Open my eyes to see.  Open my ears to hear.  Open my heart to know.  And, it is not just me.  There are so many like me who need a dose of Your hope in their lives.  Help me to look up from the places where I search for peace and purpose and divine presence so that I might see Your majesty and glory as did Isaiah in the Temple. What is found where I spend so much time looking is nothing that has the power to bless me with an overwhelming hope.  I know it is found only in Your presence.  Give me that blessing of seeing You high and lifted up for there is the hope needed for today's living.

But, it is not just about me.  I pray, too, Father, for this troubled world.  How it must grieve Your heart to see how we are living.  Nations fight nations and folks like me struggle to live in right relationships with others.  How I long for the day when battlefields will no longer give birth to orphans and widows.  I pray for that day when war and strife and brokenness exist only as a memory.  I pray for that day when caring for the earth will be more important than possessing it.  I pray for that day when more and more people will heed Your teachings and will walk in Your ways.  I pray these things, Father, because Your Word gives me hope that one day Your Kingdom will truly prevail over all that now seeks to undermine it.  Come quickly.  Amen.

Advent V

Even as Biblical repentance is something far deeper and far more profound than casually saying, "I'm sorry, " so is Advent's call to get ready something much different than the trivial stuff we associate with it.  Saying "I'm sorry" when we have no intentions of doing differently is a waste of time by Kingdom standards.  Doing a lot of outward stuff such as lighting Advent Candles, attending worship, making Chrismons, writing daily Advent meditations, or reading them will only cause us to miss the mark of the Advent call if some serious heart work does not accompany what we are doing.  Advent's invitation to get ready is something which can only be described as radical.

 

Certainly, the epistle lesson for the first Sunday of Advent (Romans 13:11-14) takes us to the place of embracing radical change.  As is the case with these early Advent lessons, a sense of urgency is underscored.  We read phrases like, "...it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep...the night is far gone, the day is near."  And what takes us to the place where we see that getting ready for the One who is coming is no game of trivial pursuits are those words, "...lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armor of light," and "...put on the Lord Jesus Christ."  What we hear in these Words is a call to do radical heart work.

 

Waking up, then, is about seeing how we invest too much of our time in things Jesus would never even give a glance.  Living with a sense of urgency does not turn us into a one dimensional person, but a person who lives knowing that every moment, every relationship, every opportunity is a precious gift given from the Father in Heaven.  The Biblical "laying aside and putting on" speaks of a daily decision to tend to the matters of this earth as Christ would tend to them if they were His.   

Advent IV (Romans 13:11-14)

Father God, I wish You did not know me so well.  I am too much like those disciples who slept while Your Son agonized in prayer.  I miss out on a lot of what You are about in the world and around me because I spend all my energy dong other things.  Lesser stuff.  Things that really don't count for much.  And so like now, I am tired, worn out and here too much for duty and not enough for reasons of "want to."  Time really is getting by.  I know it in my head, but Father God, I am still not living like one who has figured it out.

 

I really do need You.  You want to see signs of radical change in me and I keep on being content with just getting by.  To read this Word about "putting on the armor of light," and "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ" causes me to see my faith as pitiful instead of radical.  If I am ever going to wake up to how urgent the present moment really is, I am going to need You to help me.  In the past, all I have done is move forward a bit and fall back a lot.

 

Father God, I do want to be a follower who pleases You.  Forgive me for making room in my heart for thoughts and acts of disobedience.  Forgive me for living with an accommodating attitude toward the sin I know is present.  Forgive me, Father, and fill my heart anew with Your Spirit for the work You are about all around me.  Make me one of those who sees the urgency of the moment and helps other to see the heart of Your Son.  In His name I ask it.  Amen.

Advent III

Advent is a season of waiting.  Of course, waiting is not the favorite pastime of anyone.  We abhor it.  Waiting is a waste of time.   Folks attempt to diminish the emotional anguish experienced by a period of waiting by getting out all those hand e-devices, but when it is all said and done, it is still waiting.  We wait at the stoplight.  We wait in the doctor's office.  We wait in the checkout outline.  But, no matter where we wait, we seldom do any of it gracefully.  Outwardly we do it, but inwardly we are pushing forward, trying to hurry everyone and everything so our time of waiting is limited.  It is a terrible burden we bear!

 

So, here is this season on the Christian calendar which not only calls us to enter into a time of waiting, but also invites us to embrace it.  The waiting of Advent is not a passive thing.  To wait in the spirit of Advent does not mean to sit idle, fiddling thumbs, watching the clock, and doing nothing. Neither is the waiting of Advent to be filled with things which keep us from experiencing the waiting.  The gospel lesson (Matthew 24:36-44) reminds us that our entertaining and time killing obsession with the mundane pursuits of life is a poor substitute for the kind of waiting which actually makes us ready for what God is holding out in our future.  Some of the Noah crowd tried life that way and found it to be lacking. 

 

No, the waiting of Advent is actually a purposeful waiting.  At some point we will all stand in the presence of Jesus, the Lord and King of all creation.  This moment will come at our death or upon His return to the earth.   We can know the certainty of that encounter, but not the time.  It will come to us like an unexpected surprise.  Becoming ready for that moment is what the waiting of this life is all about.  See the span of our years as a waiting period for this final moment and suddenly life is viewed and lived differently. 

Advent II (Matthew 24:36-66)

Lord, I find myself wondering.  What will it really be like on that day when I am at last face-to-face with You?  Actually, face-to-face is not how I envision it.  Me face down on the ground pleading for mercy is how I see it.  I wonder if Your eyes will see me as one ready for what will be the most important moment of my existence?  On this side we sometimes glibly say, "I am ready to meet my Maker," but, Lord, I wonder if such thinking will carry over to that first meeting on the other side.  I doubt it.

 

Even now, Lord, as I consider this Word before me and contemplate either You coming in Your glory, or my death, I know there will be nothing in my earthly life to which I can point You that has the power to gain me entrance into Your heavenly glory.  Lord, I am first of all a sinner--one who has fallen short of Your expectations more times than I could ever possibly count.  You have always been more than gracious in forgiving me again and again and again, but still....I must confess my need for it again tomorrow.  I have not figured it out after all these years.  I know what to do and how to live, but still I mess up too much.  Lord, I know I am sinner and I know I will always be in need of Your mercy.

 

Maybe, Lord, being ready for that unexpected but certain moment is not about what I have done, sermons I have preached, money I have given, good deeds I have left behind, or prayers prayed.  Could it just be that staying hungry for your mercy is what will finally make me ready?  I am not looking for a license to sin again, Lord.  I know the error of going down that road, but could it be that living and dying as a mercy seeker is enough in the end?  Lord Jesus, hear my prayer.  Amen.

Advent I

Hope is one of those words thrown about in the early days of the Advent season.  One of the lessons read on the first Sunday comes from the first few verses of the second chapter of Isaiah.  It is a word which not only speaks to the exiled Hebrews about their return to Jerusalem, but it also speaks about a revelation of the Kingdom of God that will exceed anyone's expectations.    They are in Babylon feeling worthless and lost only to hear the prophet speak a strong word of hope concerning their future.  Jerusalem will be restored.  It will be seen by the world as the dwelling place of God.  Its glory will be restored.  And, more importantly, a time of peace, prosperity, and divine blessing  will be ushered into reality.

 

No one would have dared hope for so much.  They might have hoped that their children would see Jerusalem again.  Maybe some even dared to hope they might see it once again with their own eyes, but surely, no one hoped for much more.  Anything else would have seemed to them as something impossible.  Their memories of the homeland were filled with images of ruin and destruction and disruption of all their sacred traditions.  Those things could never be changed.

 

Yet, through Isaiah, this ancient man of God, they were called to a hope far greater than those fueled  by memories of reality.  Surely, it was hard for them, as it is for us, to have that kind of hope.  Many of us live in a world of dashed dreams, broken promises, and deep heart wounds which seem to defy healing.  The One who dared the broken Hebrews to hope calls us to the same hope.  It is not foolishness to live with hope instead of despair.  The hope we are called to embrace is not one based on circumstances, but on the God who has this vision of a future greater than our expectations.   Even now He seeks to move us into it.