"All Other Ground is Sinking Sand": The First Sunday in Advent (November 27, 2022)

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be alway acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

When I was growing up, there was a hymn I always loved called “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less.” And the chorus of the hymn had this great line that went “On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand, All other ground is sinking sand, all other ground is sinking sand.” I love that line and I think it has a direct bearing on our readings this morning. During Advent, we wait in expectation and, as we wait, we have to ask ourselves where we put our trust.

Our Old Testament lesson is an oracle was delivered by the prophet Isaiah against “scornful men” who occupied leadership in Israel. These men entered a covenant with death and a treaty with Sheol, or hell, probably referring to an alliance with the nation of Egypt or cultic worship of the underworld. Whatever security this covenant with day may have created in their minds, it is a facade: “the hail shall sweep away the refuse of lies, and the waters shall overflow the hiding place.” This illusion will be proven to be foolish in the day of judgment “when the overflowing scourge shall pass through, then ye shall be trodden by it.” Yet even in the midst of judgment, the Lord gives Israel a promise: “Behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation.” While the lies and illusions will be swept away, God will be a refuge, a handhold for the faithful in the midst of judgment.

For Christians, this passage from Isaiah 28 has long been viewed through a messianic lens: the foundation stone is Christ. St. Paul sees this as speaking to Christ in Romans 9:33. St. Peter quotes this Isaiah verse in 1 Peter 2:6, describing Christ as the Church’s foundation while we the members of his Church are the “living stones” that make up the building. For us today, this passage challenges us as we begin the Advent season by asking us where we put our trust?

What we see in Isaiah’s words is that it’s fully possible for us to lull ourselves into a false sense of security. The history of Israel is one of looking for security in the wrong places. Isaiah saw the misplaced confidence in the covenant with death. The prophet Jeremiah found that the people of Israel found a false sense of security in the Temple, thinking that it would protect them in spite of their unfaithfulness to the covenant. In Jesus’ day, the Pharisees misplaced their confidence in their social status, commendation from men, and their ability to keep the law. In Paul’s letter to the Galatians, he was arguing against Judaizers who had misplaced confidence in their Jewish ethnicity and their biological descendency from Abraham. Here’s the thing: we aren’t that different. Our covenants with death may not be the same as they were in previous generations, but we are certainly capable of being lulled into false sense of security. We may think of Screwtape Letters when the infernal Screwtape tells his nephew Wormwood that when tempting a Christian, “the safest road to hell is the gradual one—the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.” Whatever we put our trust in apart from God, we’re probably not fully aware that that’s what we’re doing, and that’s what’s so scary about the siren songs of riches, political power, and hedonism. They pull us down that road to hell, very gradually, very gently, without much fanfare. And in the face of this risk, we must heed St. Paul’s exhortation from Romans today: “It is high time to awake out of sleep: for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed. The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.”

The good news is that we have a sure foundation stone. Instead of being lulled into a false sense of security, God, in Christ, gives us a foundation on which to build. As the foundation stone, Jesus is the only alternative to the facade of false security. You may remember the story in Matthew 6 when the one man builds his house on the shifting sand while the other builds his house on the rock. Of course, when the storm comes, the house on the sand comes crashing down while the house built on the proper foundation withstands the storm. Jesus is our foundation because he is God and man, because he takes away the sins of the world, because he has defeated death, sin, and the devil. On this foundation springs forth a beautiful edifice: the Church. This precious building is a hospital for the sick; it’s the inn the Good Samaritan brought the man he found beaten by the side of the road; it’s a gym where we train to run the race before us; it’s the outpost from which we bring the Good News to a dark world that needs it. Our refuge is in Christ and his Church.

This means we have two options. The first option is that we can continue with the facades of false security, we can become content with the covenant with death, we can remain asleep. Maybe this is convenient, maybe it’s the easier choice, maybe it means fitting in better. But we also know where this path ends: “swept away in judgment.” The second option is that we can listen to Isaiah’s exhortation: “be ye not mockers.” What he means is that we shouldn’t mock God by settling for the illusions or false sense of security derived from whatever idol we worship instead of God. Choosing this way is how we gain wisdom, it’s how we gain life. But it requires us to cast out the money changers in our hearts and live by the Law of Love as St. Paul details it in Romans 13. There’s no third option, no middle way, no room to be neutral. “Choose this day whom you will serve.”

And so today there are three takeaways for us. First, we should always remember that it’s possible for us to make a covenant with death. We must be ever-vigilant and self-reflective about this or else we may step into a trap. One way we avoid this trap is by keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, our firm foundation. In his light, we see reality for what it is. All other ground is shifting sand. And so we must choose life so that we can live. And this beginning of the Church year is the perfect time to make this choice.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.