Preparations

Here we are in the space between Thanksgiving and Christmas, a span of time that seems shorter each year. And I wonder, “what kind of Christmas are you hoping for this year?

At the parsonage, we have a beautiful nativity spread across our china cabinet in the dining room. It gives me a sense of calm to look at it, a sense of peace.

But then in the living room, we have a Christmas Vacation Christmas village set, revealing how Clark Griswold's dreams of a family Christmas go out the window when all the things go wrong. The family car gets stuck under an 18-wheeler on the way to the Christmas tree farm. The tree is too big and breaks through the window. Later a squirrel gets caught inside it and then the tree itself catches fire.

And so on the first Sunday of Advent, perhaps you are feeling a little disappointed that the text is more akin to everything gone wrong than a beautiful nativity scene. Instead of angelic announcements and shepherds, we get signs in the heavens, distress among the nations, and roaring seas.

Advent beginning with apocalyptic, end-time imagery? Didn’t we just light the candle of hope? Yikes!

But here on the first Sunday of Advent (which means arrival), we hear Christ speaking of the second arrival and is telling people that they should prepare.

Many, many people have thought that they knew when Christ would come again over the years and it is safe to say they have all been wrong. Perhaps the emphasis is less about prediction and more about preparation.

Advent is a season of waiting and preparation and anticipation.

But how do you prepare for something that you know will one day eventually be but have no idea when?

My girls were so excited that their cousins were coming for Thanksgiving. So excited in fact that they felt the need to ask various versions of “when will they be here?”nearly all day. They felt like they were never going to arrive, that it took forever. And so in the meantime, we had to find ways to prepare for their arrival, to watch and to wait.

Truth be told, none of us were that great at waiting. What about you?

Have you had seasons of longing and waiting? Waiting can be the hardest part. When whatever is on the other side of the wait feels like it may never arrive, if at all. When it feels like you are holding on to the tiniest glimmers of hope.

Speaking of hope. At first glance, it seems that hope is hard to find in today’s passage, feeling more like a warning than an invitation. But maybe hope is there, in the middle of the chaos in the sky.

I have always loved the painting Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh. Perhaps you do too. Kathy Beach-Verhey shared a unique perspective in suggesting that this painting catches the mood of the first Sunday of Advent.

She says “The painting exhibits the bold colors that van Gogh is known for and the postimpressionist style that he helped to make famous. Van Gogh was the son of a Dutch pastor and for a time an evangelist to the poor himself, so he was likely familiar with texts such as this one from Luke 21. The painting depicts an apocalyptic sky, like that described by Jesus. There are swirling clouds in bold yellows and white on deep, dark blue and black. There is a bold and bright yellow moon and very bright stars, described by one art critic as “rockets of burning yellow.” In the background is a small town, with the church steeple as its most prominent feature. In the foreground, a foreboding flamelike image connects earth and sky. Art historians take it to be a cypress tree, which in van Gogh’s time would have been associated with graveyards and mourning. The famous painting elicits differing reactions from those who admire it. Some see it as a daunting image of a frightening sky, others as something bold and beautiful, others as a glimpse of God.”

What does hope look like for you?

The passage today isn’t there to make you feel hopeless. Jesus says “Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” The Message translation says ““And then—then!—they’ll see the Son of Man welcomed in grand style—a glorious welcome! When all this starts to happen, up on your feet. Stand tall with your heads high. Help is on the way!”

I love the scene in Lord of the Rings when Frodo is feeling completely hopeless and Sam encourages him. Sam scatters hope.

FRODO: I can’t do this, Sam.

SAM: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy. How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened.

But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.

FRODO: What are we holding on to, Sam?

SAM: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.,

We don’t begin Advent hanging our heads in defeat. We begin Advent standing with our heads high and on the lookout in a spirit of hope.

Help is on the way, for your redemption is drawing near.

Advent is a season of preparation, of living by the light of the promises of God.

What kind of Christmas are you hoping for? What does your relationship with the God of all hope look like?

I was recently listening to a segment where Kate Bowler was talking about her complex relationship with hope, especially during the time when she was so sick and hope for the future didn’t seem possible.

She shared that she began to have a healthier relationship with hope when she saw hope as “more like little bread crumbs of beautiful things that have happened and will happen like little fairy dust spread around my life.”

When her future felt like a blank slate, she said “I could feel hope by thinking about all the things in the past that had surprised me with fun and beauty. Sometimes when I was too sad about what happened hope felt like it could pop up in front of me in the form of a new friend or someone stopped by with food or ideas of something we can do together. Hope is beauty bubbling up in our lives. It is the surprise of believing that even when you can’t see a good future, that good things might still be possible.”

So how might hope be drawing near for you this year?

How is the God of all hope drawing near to you?

Are you preparing for hope to arrive?

I want to leave you with this blessing for the beginning of Advent from Kate Bowler.

God, could this be the year when we see it? The goodness that is coming, like starlight from a distant time? Could this be the Advent when we sense it? That the springtime of the soul will one day last forever? Could this be the Advent when we notice the inbreaking of your coming promises? Promises full of blessing: of truth so clear, so bright that every shadowy lie must flee away. Of compassion so deep, so strong that everyone is encircled in its embrace. Of restoration so complete, so beautiful that there is gladness everywhere. And of justice so satisfying and so right, that all will be well. May this Advent be the new beginning, as we learn to live by the light of your coming promises. Glimpsing the world through tears, while also seeing something sacred shining through too. Our Truth. Our Light. Our Promise incarnate. Amen.