SUNDAY SERMON
First Sunday of Advent, Year C
November 30, 2003
Epistle: I Thess 3: 9-3
I saw my first Christmas tree just before Halloween this year. And last week, shopping in Office Depot, I heard Christmas music. Retailers everywhere are trying their best to get us in the "mood of the season." Of course, their idea of the "mood of the season" and the Christian Church's idea are quite different.
For too many of us, Advent is a time of dread because of the huge amount of extra pressure we face. Christmas card scenes and holiday TV and movie depictions of the perfect snow fall, glittering candles, jingling sleigh bells, and big get-togethers seem to be our standard for comparison. And we knock ourselves out trying to make it all happen, then feel disappointed when it doesn't.
But, for Christians, what Advent is really all about is a time to re-experience wonder at the first coming of God in Jesus and to reflect on his promise to come again in glory. Surely, if we were hearing the story of Jesus' first coming for the first time, we wouldn't feel anything less than wonder, as we learned about the magnitude and majesty of God's become incarnate, becoming as one of us. Wouldn't awe be the natural response when we understand that God did this because he loves us and wants to connect with us as never before?
And what about Jesus' promise to come again? We remem-ber this mystery of faith at every Eucharist, but at Advent, it should take on a special significance for us. It did for Paul. For Paul, Jesus' imminent second coming was incredibly real. That expectation shaped his life and his work, gave his life meaning, and filled him with hope.
As Paul waited, he was able to stay focused on the central things of the Christian life. A good example of his doing this is found in his letters to the Thessalonians. Read in its entirety, Paul's letters to them encourages a unity of spirit among them, on the one hand, and personal holiness on the other. Consider the unity of spirit. You can hear today in this short excerpt from his letter how much he loves those Thessalonians and how loved he feels by them. Paul longs to be with them, to renew his relationship with them--because one place Paul finds joy, is in his relationships with other Christians. I think that's easy to understand. Howard Clinebell, a well-known pastoral theologian, said that the fundamental need of all people, including Paul and us, is to love and to experience love in a dependable relationship.
For me, the phrase "dependable relationship" suggests that someone is there for you, no matter what, through thick and thin, for better or worse. This seems to mean that when someone is acting far from their best, we'll still be there. If someone is acting ugly and mean, and just trouncing all over our feelings, we will still be there for them. If they are in the grip of their anger, letting it direct their every move, we'll stick with them as they work it through. If they are overwhelmed by loss and grief and have walled themselves off from us, we will wait patiently at the door of their heart. If they need to talk about their pain and frustration, we'll listen intently and lovingly. This is the unity of spirit and mutuality of Christian love in action. What did Paul do as he waited? He did all he could to build Christian community.
This Advent, there are many in our Church and here in our parish who are not experiencing joy in relationships as Paul did. They are feeling angry or are feeling overwhelmed by the loss of something they believe is fundamental to them. To the people he loved in Thessalonica, Paul prayed, "may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another." And while he wasn't dealing with the pain of disagreement as many of us are, that same prayer could well be prayed for us. As we all struggle to deal with this difficult time, Paul would tell us to love one another with a love that listens, cares, encourages, supports, and finally shows us to be dependable in our connection to each other--even in the face of painful unresolved differences. As a part of Advent, may I ask that we listen to each other, comfort each other, encourage each other? May I ask that our daily Advent prayer be that the joy of our relationships will be restored, and that the certainty of God's love for us will unite us?
Paul's second focus is on promoting personal holiness. Personal holiness is
a direct outcome of our relationship with God. It's not purity or correctness
of belief, it's not rigorously keeping some set of rules. It's a sense of wholeness,
of healed mind and spirit as we commune with God. It's this wholeness that enables
our other relationships to thrive.
The reality is, it's easy this time of year to stumble off into the wilderness
of greed and consumption, chasing after things that Jesus spoke about as being
corrupted by "moth and rust." It is easy this time of year to lose
the voice of God amid the jangle of our nerves or the rising sound of our own
voices. It's easy this time of year to not experience the holidays as holy days.
But, In the face of these realities, in our attempt to keep a holy Advent we might try Paul's own example. Paul was able to stay focused on what was central in spite of all the trials of his life, and there were many. And he did it through prayer-conversation with God. There seem to be three dominant aspects of Paul's prayer life we can identify. First, Paul seemed never to tire of giving thanks to God - thanks for his union with God through Christ, thanks for people who loved him, thanks for his mission of sharing the Gospel. Second, Paul exuded joy over the miracle that God loved him and that others could experience that love as well. Third, Paul prayed for others.
Perfect gifts, elaborate meals, rushing and hurrying to connect all the dots - this is not what Advent is about. The true mood of the season is a spirit of thanksgiving for God's love and the love of others, joyous hope in Christ's coming again, and prayerful concern for others. As we wait, let's pray this spirit will be in us, to the glory of God and for the unity of Christ's Church.