Become Awake Again this Advent

November 29, 2020 First Sunday of Advent The Rev. Mark Pendleton Become Awake Again this Advent Jesus said, "In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see 'the Son of Man coming in clouds' with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. "From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. "But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake-for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake." Mark 13:24-37 At the heart of our faith is our belief in God's desire and ability to take what is old and make it new, take what is tired and give it life again, find what is ailing and make it well, and come across what has been ignored or discarded for far too long and make a big fuss over it. We see this again and again in Scripture: lost sheep and rebellious children getting all the attention, women beyond childbearing age surprising everyone by giving birth, and a small nation becoming a great people through whom God speaks. It is God at God's familiar upside-down, last-to-first, outside-in, weakness is strength best. I hold onto the heart of God's nature when and if it seems like the world around me has too little regard for what is true, what is useful and what is right. When there is too much darkness and not enough light. When it feels as if kindness is in short supply and the distance between opposing sides is growing farther apart leaving little room to compromise, negotiate and work together. As we mark the beginning of another season of Advent this morning, we hit the needed and familiar notes. None of us get to jump to Christmas morning without some fine-tuning and reminding. Advent is about much more than a windup for Nativity pageants that recall ancient Bethlehem, angels and shepherds: it is about our present and our future. We wait for the coming of God in Christ into the world to show us how God works to renew, revive, mend, bless and celebrate God's creation. We keep awake so that we don't miss what is often right beneath our feet. And we continue to work to make a more Christ-like world. All this being said, one would think that living through a global pandemic should make us waiting and expectation experts. We are waiting and watching and hoping to make it through this long season as we hear to promising news vaccines on the horizon. In today's gospel, Jesus repeats the Advent directive: keep awake! For you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly." My wife and I have this practice when we are on long road trips and the driving is getting tiring and long and tedious and driver finds themselves, not outright dozing off, but yawning more than they should. When I'm the driver, I turn to my passenger and companion and say: "talk to me." I need more than a book on tape and another hour of NPR on the radio, I need a conversation to keep me awake and alert. There is story about a conversation between a young monk and his older and wise Abbot (the head monk) in their monastery. The monk asked, "Abbot, what has God's wisdom taught you? Did you become divine?" "Not at all." "Did you become a saint?" "No, as you can clearly see." "What then, Abbot?" "I became awake!" I have long thought of prayer as the conversation we have with God that is not confined to when we are on our knees, or grace before a meal or spoken in beautifully crafted language. Prayer, to me, is this ongoing dialogue through my heart and my thinking to a God I long to know more fully. With a God who knows my thoughts before they come to me. A God who made me and loves me because of and in spite of all that I am and do. The conversation that God is having with us in Advent might sound like this: what is it we are waiting for and expecting to happen? And what is our role to help bring about the change we so long desire. Before we get to begin, we have to work our way through the end. Jesus paints an ominous picture of the end of time. "In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken." Mark 13:24 Consider how you and I have been wishing and saying: "I can't wait for 2020 to end." If David were preaching today he would remind us of Tom Brady leaving us for Tampa Bay and Mookie Betts for the Dodgers. We keep thinking back to a year ago before all of this began. Compound this feeling of longing and grieving to that of the people who first heard Jesus' words. They resonated and spoke to a community living through upheaval, political domination and economic instability. They would have known intimately the feelings voiced in Psalm 80: "Restore us, O God of hosts; show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved. You have fed 'your people' with the bread of tears; you have given them bowls of tears to drink." Perhaps nowhere else in Scripture is there such an image of desperation for something more than bread and bowls of tears. It is a reminder that when we hear these words from the gospels, they were spoken to a people in a particular moment in time: people living through difficult days holding onto to any word of hope that soon things and life would be changed. There was a sense to this something would happen soon. Jesus said: "Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away." There is some tension being playing out for us: we are to keep awake but we don't know when this thing we are waiting for will happen. Jesus said: No one knows when that day or hour will come: "But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." If I were honest, this endless waiting sounds pretty exhausting. Yet keeping awake gives us more ways to see signs of hope. That should our constant work as followers of Jesus. Fortunately for us, we don't have to see stars falling from the heavens and the sun darkening to know that God is already moving, drawing near and showing up. This is a season to light candles. If you have never had or made an Advent wreath, this may be your year. We need more light in our lives. I will offer the following conversation we might at the end of a long day. (From Daily Prayers for All Seasons) It begins: Even in the waiting, God is with me. We ask ourselves this: What keeps me in the shadows? What light am I waiting for? And then we pray: Holy One, come this night. Open my heart to the brightness of your love. Release my fears and revive my hope, that I may rest well and rise to share your love. Amen. Even in the waiting, God is with us. 1