A Sermon for the First Sunday of Advent
The Rev. Patricia A. Gillespie
Isaiah 2:1-5
Romans 13:8-14
Matthew 24:37-44
Psalm 122
After the Gospel, before the preacher can begin the sermon, the organist begins "Joy to the World!"
Preacher interrupts the music with,
"Stop! Stop! It's not time yet!"
We've got at least three weeks till Christmas."
Organist replies,
"But you do not know on what day your Lord is coming!"
Preacher continues:
She's right. God's arrival is a surprise. What if suddenly today really were Christmas? Either your family's all at your house waiting for you, or you're supposed to be somewhere else. Everyone else is ready ... they all have gifts for you, but you haven't even started your shopping yet. Is this a Merry Christmas or a state of panic?
Fortunately, we have this nice, long season of Advent to get ready for Christmas. We have this nice, long season of Advent to prepare ourselves for Christ to come into our own lives. But what if God doesn't like our timetable and shows up today? Are you ready to meet your Maker?
It's a question that can cut rather close to home. We read about deaths in the middle east. We still remember the reports of people's last minutes on September 11th. And they can still bring tears and that underlying, fearful question: What if I'd been there? Sitting next to the suicide bomber. On Flight 93 that September 11as passengers recited the 23rd Psalm and prepared to attack the hijackers ? Or just driving down the road when aan out-of-control semi crosses the median? What if suddenly Jesus stands in front of me and says, "Now!" Do I laugh with joy or sob hysterically? Do I, like Martin Luther, go about business as usual and plant a tree? Do I rush to the divine cockpit to try to get back in control?
What if I knew for certain that now, this very hour, is the hour of my death. Jesus says it will be that sudden. The Lord comes like a thief in the night or a hijacker on a routine flight. Jesus, looking like he came straight from a cave in Afghanistan, jumps out and shouts, "Allahu akbar!" The terrifying shout telling us that,"God is great!"
In the middle of our ordinary lives – the eating and drinking, the harvesting and cooking – like a thief in the night, God appears suddenly in our lives. Often we only recognize the warning signs after God has already hit us with some big Surprise. God's guerilla warfare tactics. "Allahu akbar!" God is great.
These are not a very nice images for God: either the biblical thief or the contemporary terrorist. These are dangerous, life-and-death kind of images. They are terrifying, powerful, ... and downright sneaky.
It's death that comes like a thief in the night. ... Or birth. Birth and death are both very sneaky. They, too, tend to happen when we least expect them. Powerful, life-changing events. So why should God be any different? Sneaky, surprising, dangerous, and life-changing.
God born in a barn, when Mama Mary wasn't quite ready. God vanished from the tomb, where they left the dead, broken body. God the terrorist thief in the night.
Imagine it: God the terrorist thief sneaks up on me to steal from me my most valuable possession.
Feeling at advent gunpoint, I offer everything else: "Christ, I'll give you more prayer. Jesus, will you take instead more dedicated ministry time? I could double my tithe? Go on a mission to Africa? ... Go away and come back later ! I am not ready !! God, I have nothing good enough for you. Christ, your Christmas gift is not only not wrapped and not paid for, but I haven't even found it yet."
I am close to tears. The God I have spent my life waiting for and hoping for is here. But I am not prepared. The moment is now, and I'm sure to be left behind, I am too late for the ark and swept away in the flood.
Jesus just stands there watching me. I know he's come to steal my most valuable possession. He is a disreputable, sneaking Palestinian: dirty turban, torn robe, scraggly beard. He knows that I've prepared no worthy gift. But I know what he wants. And I know it's broken and dirty. So I beg: "Give me more time. Let me get my act together first. Somehow I can make what you want into something beautiful for you. Right now it is not even worth stealing."
Gently he reaches out to take from me what he's come for, my most valuable possession – my life. I hold on tight. He does too. Holding on hurts, so through the tears I let go of what he would not steal. My life. It is a gift, freely given at last, the unfinished mess that it is.
Disreputable, sneaking Palestinian: dirty turban, torn robe, scraggly beard, ... smiling eyes. He holds my life in his hands. It looks rather lovely there.
"You weren't ready, were you?" he says. It is a statement, not a question. There is a knot in my throat so I cannot reply anyway. He turns my life over in his hands. I see his hands are still bleeding. My pitiful, broken gift is now a sticky mess, covered in his blood. I want to run away. "You were not ready," Jesus repeats, "but I am ready," he adds. "I have a gift prepared for you."
Disreputable, sneaking Palestinian: dirty turban, torn robe, scraggly beard, ... big grin. "Wake up, Kid!" he says, "Merry Advent." He hands my life back to me.
.
Our sneaky God of Surprises turns everything around: givers and receivers, life and death, tragedy and celebration, power and weakness, time and eternity.
God only knows the time when Christ will come into our lives. Advent or Christmas, September 11 or July 4, today, tomorrow, or next Friday morning. Ready or not, he promised that he will be back.
Jesus sneaks into our lives unexpectedly looking for a Christmas gift. You know what he wants. You are not ready. But God is ready. And that is enough. If you offer the gift, it will be acceptable.
Our salvation is very near. It is in his hands, so wake up and rejoice in the surprise of his coming.
Organist plays simply and quietly "O come, o come, Emmanuel"