1st Sunday of Advent, Year A – Rev. Frank F. Wilson
This morning we exit the long season of Pentecost and begin a new season in the church – the season that we call Advent. Advent, as we all know, is the first season of the new church year. Advent is sort of the preamble to all that we will attend to in terms of liturgy, Biblical texts, and themes throughout this new year.
You no doubt know that the word “advent” simply means “coming.” It is a word that anticipates something new, and novel, maybe even glorious is to come.
Actually, if you think about it, we use the word “advent” quite often in everyday speech. For example, we might say that the renaissance marked the advent of a new and vibrant era in the arts, and in science and religion.
We might say that the discovery of electricity marked the advent of the industrial age.
If you are a fan of University of Georgia football, you might say that the hiring of Coach Kirby Smart marked the advent of UGA’s return to top-ranked football – a thing that Georgia fans have anticipated with great enthusiasm.
And so, we begin this new church year as we do every year. This is a time of year when we put ourselves in a posture of anticipation. The season of Advent is a time of being in waiting. Waiting for he who is to come – anticipating the arrival of the Christ child. But in the waiting, we also find ourselves pondering that time in the future when all that Christ initiated will come into all its fullness. This is a time we sometimes refer to as the Peaceable Kingdom – a term although not found in the Bible per se, is a term that bubbles up out of texts not unlike those read here a few moments ago. The term Peaceable Kingdom was coined by the Pennsylvania artist Edward Hicks. Hicks, a Quaker, was inspired having read certain passages from the Book of Isaiah, including the following: The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them…”[Isaiah 11:6-8]
And so it is that this season of Advent illumines and renews our hopefulness in humankind’s potential of someday establishing peace on earth and goodwill towards all.
One of the ways that we signify that we are living in a time of new beginnings is by the displaying of an Advent wreath and candles. We have one here. The point is the flames from the candles are a symbol of the Light of Christ which comes in the darkness.
The story is told about the writer Robert Louis Stevenson growing up in Scotland around the turn of the century. The same Robert Louis Stevenson who penned such classics as Treasure Island as well as many non-fiction works. As a young boy, Stevenson lived on a hillside outside of his hometown of Edinboro, Scotland. It is said that each evening young Robert would sit in his family’s kitchen and look down on the town, and watch as the lamp lighter ignited each of the town’s street lamps below. From his vantage point it was as if each light sort of emerged from the darkness in a slow but steady stream, one at a time. Stevenson recalled saying to his mother once, “Look mother, there is a man down there punching holes in the darkness.”
The analogy, of course, the metaphor if you will, is that this is what the light of Christ is like. Embracing and living life as extolled by Christ punches holes in the darkness of the troubled human heart, and the troubled human soul – all in a very troubled world. We have but to turn on TV news any hour of the day or pick up a newspaper to be reminded that it is so. And so, each week as we progress through the season of Advent, we will light more candles to express our deep desire for and our collective longing for the Peaceable Kingdom.
So, the question becomes, “What are we to do with this time of waiting — this time of anticipation and preparation?
Well, let us consult once again the prophet Isaiah in search for the answer to that question. He writes: Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob… so that we might be instructed in the ways of God. And the prophet speaks of a time when swords will be forged into ploughshares and spears will be turned into pruning hooks. This is but another way of saying: let us be intentional about casting away the works of darkness and embracing the light. It is about stepping outside of that which bedevils us and embracing that which renders peace, hope, joy, and contentment.
The Psalmist says pray for peace – peace in your own spirit and peace among and between all persons.
And what does Jesus say? Jesus simply says, “Therefore, you must be ready.” And over the span of his ministry Jesus will say a hundred times over, in one way or another, as do all of our texts this morning, that the way we will be ready is to let love be our guide, our example, and our intention. Jesus is saying if we can but bring ourselves to just let that simple principle, that simple prescription, that simple way of being and thinking be our guide – our collective guide – we will be ready. We will be prepared. And maybe we would have arrived at what Hicks called the Peaceable Kingdom.
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You know Jesus did not coin the term Christianity. That would come later – many years following his death. In fact, early on, Jesus’ movement had no name. A perceptive observer might have called Jesus’ way the way of radically reformed Judaism. But the earliest followers of Jesus, in fact, simply called the Jesus movement ‘The Way.’ Simply put and at its core, this simply meant the way of love.
The Psalmist this morning focuses on Jerusalem and the tribes of Israel when he prays for peace and prosperity. But Jesus later comes along and offers something of a corrective. He pushes a reset button on the theology of the psalmist. Jesus will say to focus on the tribes of Israel is fine and well, but God’s view of the family of God is ever so much greater than a single tribe or nation. God’s kingdom includes all whom God has made.
The Apostle Paul, arguably the most articulate of the leaders of the Jesus Movement, says that we owe not one nothing except to love one another.
Jesus will say this no plainer than when asked the question, “Who is my neighbor?” In response to that question Jesus tells the story of the so-called good Samaritan. And the point of the story of the Good Samaritan is that your neighbor is everyone with whom you share this planet whether that person lives next door, or in a neighboring country, or is your perceived enemy, or is someone who lives on the other side of the world.
Love is universal. It knows no tribe. It knows no boundaries. It knows no nation. We are not called to love those whom we might judge to be loveable or whom we might desire to love. We are simply called to love.
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In closing, let me “shift gears” so to speak and admit that now that I am no longer required to attend diocesan Annual Council, it’s been a few years now since I have attended one. But know that one of the things that takes place at Council is that at some point in the proceedings the bishop takes off his Chairman of the Board hat and gives an address to those 500 or so delegates – about whatever is on his or her heart and mind. It is called an address rather than a sermon because it does not take place within the context of a worship service, but be assured that this address is most always sermon-esk.
And I remember to this day a story that Bishop Wright told at the last Council I attended. It happened that he had recently been in Cuba working in mutual ministry down there. And he told how one morning, before breakfast, he was standing at the window of the room in which he was staying. And he allowed as to how there had been something of a storm during the night that was still lingering as the sun was rising. It was still raining and he said that the wind was blowing quite hard. Rob said that as he was staring out the window, he saw two doves on a power line. They were poised about a foot or so apart. And he said that as he watched the birds, one began to move toward the other. And he watched as, in unison, the two birds began to edge toward each other until they were quite pressed together, side by side. And there they stayed, huddled and pressed together, heads down, contending with and struggling against the storm. Then Rob said, he witnessed an amazing sight. He said one of the birds lifted its wing and very purposefully blanketed the other dove with whom he was sharing that powerline perch.
My friends in Christ, Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. In the meantime, let us be about seeking and pursuing our better selves. In the meantime, in the waiting, let us be reminded that God calls us simply to love one another. In the meantime, as we await the arrival of the Christ child and the advent of creation in all of its expansive glory; as we await that time when love will indeed rule all of God’s creation – in the waiting we are to practice the art of love as if Christ has already returned.
As the Apostle Paul said, let us put on the Lord Jesus Christ. Let us adopt love as our rule of life as Christ demonstrated for us. Let us adopt love as if our very lives depend on it because you know what? It actually and absolutely does.
[Almighty God, give us grace to cast away the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty we may rise to life immortal; through him who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.]Amen.