Waiting in the Darkness

Carolyn Seaton
Kay Spiritual Life Center
November 27, 2011—Advent I
Isaiah 64:1-9; Mark 13:24-36

So, we’re back from our cozy Thanksgiving tables and moving right into Advent. Today’s gospel passage is not a particularly cozy one, at least upon first hearing. The images of a darkened sun and a moon that will not give its light that follow earlier verses about wars, famines, and suffering are not immediately comforting. The community to which the gospel of Mark was addressed was, in many ways, in the dark. Political conflicts with the Roman rulers had escalated, and the Romans usually reacted to resistance with severe oppressive measures. The war that would result in the destruction of the Second Temple was at hand. Mark’s gospel, borrowing from the prophetic language of Isaiah and others, about God’s coming judgment, follows this imagery of darkness with a reminder that heaven and earth will pass away before Jesus’s words will pass away. He writes of Jesus calling on God’s people to “keep awake.”

Images of apocalypse (which means revealing or uncovering) come from the depths of human desperation and are ultimately meant to bring us to hope. Isaiah’s cry, in the passage we read tonight, was “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down!”  His community was in a spiritual desert, had lost their integrity, and showed signs of forgetting their covenant with God. He calls them to remember, however, that God is their Father; that God is the potter, and his people the clay. Mark’s gospel believes in the promise of Isaiah’s prophetic message, and in the passage we read, uses the image of a budding fig tree as symbol of God’s coming blessing for the people. He tells his readers that Jesus’s words about that day or hour no one knows, meant that the resolution of the crisis with Roman rulers was coming, but at a time as yet uncertain. Therefore, it was necessary to “keep awake” and to maintain hope and discipline while doing so. And this reflects, doesn’t it, a truth of our personal experience: that it’s only after a crisis, with the stars falling from our sky and the ground shaking beneath our feet, that we see clearly — that we remember what is worth caring about and what is not.

There is darkness in our world today, for sure. There are, as there always have been, wars and rumors of wars; too many leaders who will pervert justice to protect their own power; there are struggles for freedom and justice that cost the lives of the brave and the innocent.  Our world knows famines and disease. In our own country there is grievous injustice, as well as in so many others. The falsely cheerful Christmas music, the fuzzy reindeer antlers on the head of the Starbucks’ barista, and the glitzy Christmas merchandise which took its place alongside the Halloween candy at the CVS, mock the unemployed whose homes have been seized by the bank and whose futures could not be more uncertain. The bitter frivolousness of our political rhetoric fills in the spaces between the commercials for the products you must buy to prove your love this “holiday season.”

And you know that no matter how fortunate we are and how much gratefulness we carry back from the Thanksgiving table, there are also shadows and fears and stresses in our own lives. Right now, in yours, there is probably anxiety about meeting the expectations of the end of the semester, about getting the papers done or not having enough time to read all that you should have read weeks ago–fears of not meeting your own demands, as well as those of the professors. And, for all of us, try as we might to make our relationships work, some are dysfunctional, and we are ashamed of some things we have done and many things we have left undone. Although the people to whom Mark wrote in his gospel and the people we are right now may have vastly different contexts, we, just as they, echo the prophet Isaiah’s cry for God come to us and help us NOW.

So tonight we look at the light from one candle, the light that symbolizes the expectation of the nativity of a Savior. Right now, in between Advent and Christmas, in between the coming of the baby in the stable and the second coming of Christ, we wait in hope. The first candle is the first glimmer of our hope. It signifies that the light of Jesus who fed the hungry, lifted up the lowly, freed the prisoner, urged justice in his community, and whose light ultimately overcame the darkness, is the light we have. In Advent we come closer to that truth of God With Us as we light each candle every week.

The Church prepares for Christmas by observing Advent. The excesses of the marketplace and the agitated pushing in the lines waiting at the doors of the mall are not our preparation. For us it should be a time of facing our shadows and centering ourselves in God as we wait in hope.  Some in the history of the Church have called it Winter’s Lent, and as early as the fifth century, some sources say Advent involved a six-week fast leading to Christmas. And although we do not now emphasize repentance as much as we do in Lent, preparation for the Savior should include a self-examination, and a clear-eyed look at our world and our place in it.  The word Advent as you no doubt know means “coming” or “arrival.” The focus of the season is the anticipation of the birth of Jesus the Christ in his First Advent and the anticipation of the return of Christ the King in his Second Advent. So, this season is far more than simply marking a 2,000-year-old historical event. In this season we affirm the Truth that God’s revelation means that all of creation will be reconciled to God. That is a process in which we now participate, and the fulfillment of which we anticipate. Scripture reading for Advent will reflect this emphasis on the Second Advent, including themes of accountability for faithfulness at His coming, judgment on sin, and the hope of eternal life. In this double focus on past and future, Advent also symbolizes the spiritual journeys of individuals and the community, as they affirm that Christ has come, that He is present in the world today, and that He will come again.

How will we spend this season? An interesting online movement has begun. You might want to take a look at it. It’s called OCCUPY ADVENT! The initiators of the movement write:  “It’s supposed to be a time of peace, joy, and contemplation. But for most people – both followers of Jesus and those who are not – the season leading up to Christmas is often a time of anxiety, busyness and consumerism.

What kind of Advent do you want to have this year? What kind of Advent do you want your friends, family and the people in your community to have? If we don’t prepare, what do you think will happen? If we’re not intentional, which side do you think will win out?” The Occupy Advent people go so far as to suggest that  you should:
Prepare your own heart each day before you go online.
Think before you Tweet. Before you Tweet/Facebook about your shopping, parties, and busyness, ask yourself, ‘Is this post going to direct people to peace and reflection or distract them from it?’ Not that everything you post has to be deeply spiritual, but just consider your motives & give it some thought.
Post links to other great resources – devotionals & reflections posted online.” OCCUPY ADVENT recommends that we “find ways to reduce workloads and make the season more peaceful.” Can you try it?!

Advent is a season of choices, preparations and beginnings. The Scriptures that we read today at the opening of this season call us to make choices about where we stand. They point toward the call of Jesus for a new world, a different ethic, and a radical re-ordering of our individual lives and our social structures. We struggle always with choosing between the powers of this world and the power of God. The message of Advent is that the Savior whose birth we will celebrate in a few weeks and whose coming again we await with hope asks us not to wait passively, but to Stay Awake to the present and coming kingdom.

As the words of the Advent hymn written by Charles Wesley in the 18th century say it:

Come, thou long expected Jesus,
Born to set thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us, 
let us find our rest in thee. 
Israel’s strength and consolation,
Hope of all the earth thou art;
Dear desire of every nation,
Joy of every longing heart.

Born thy people to deliver,
Born a child and yet a King,
Born to reign in us forever,
Now thy gracious kingdom bring.