November 29, 2009
Longing
- Luke 21:25
- Ruth Moore
I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving on Thursday. Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday because the expectations are so different from others holidays. I’m not required to have just the perfect gift or to have the most beautifully decorated house. I can just enjoy the food and the family.
I learned something this week—you should not write your sermon more than a day or two before you have to deliver it. With the holiday weekend coming up I tried to have my sermon done by Tuesday afternoon. I was going to tell you all how I had escaped another year without having to cook Thanksgiving dinner and then the stomach flu hit the relatives in Fort Wayne, so we had to regroup and have the meal at our house. Now of course I didn’t have to cook the meal. Mark cooked the meal and the girls made the dessert. I cleaned the house and set the table. We’re not sure what our son John did to help us get ready, but he was there for the meal. My brother-in-law came down for dinner with his dog so we had six people and four dogs for the weekend. It was crazy, and fun and loud and it was a time to give thanks. I am thankful for a husband who can cook and children who pitched in to make the day a success. I have much to be thankful for.
So while we all may still be stuffed to the gills with turkey, the church in its wisdom and planning begins a new church year today. Did you know this is the first Sunday of the church year? Happy New Year! Today is also the first Sunday of the season of Advent. It is the first Sunday of our waiting and preparing for the birth of a baby in
Well I chose these scriptures because Teri told me to. No, actually I choose these puzzling passages because as Jeremiah tells us “the days are coming” and we need to be ready. The question is “what are we getting ready for?”
Instead of bargain hunting this morning you’re here in worship to hear the stories of Advent once again. But the stories for today and for most of Advent are about human struggle and denied dreams. They are stories about how sin still reigns and hope seems to have gone on a vacation. Most of us prefer the major notes of joy rather than the minor key of Advent. We are preparing ourselves for a baby to be born, while at the same time we know that the baby has already been born, and is still being born in us—
this Emmanuel, this God with us—who came and is coming and is among us now. Advent mixes up our logical timetables—but then of course so does Jesus.
The prophet Jeremiah is speaking to a people who are in exile, far away from everything they know and love. And he tells them that despite everything to the contrary “the days are surely coming” when God’s promises will be fulfilled. With the world that he has known crumbling around him, Jeremiah pushes his people to see a future, which seems laughable given their current situation. But later in the Advent season Mary will sing about God’s future despite her own difficult circumstances.
Listen to the words of a Lutheran pastor who serves a church in one of the tougher neighborhoods in the
Probably the reason I love Advent so much is that it is a reflection of how I feel most of the time. I might not feel sorry during Lent, when the liturgical calendar begs repentance. I might not feel victorious, even though it is Easter morning. I might not feel full of the Spirit, even though it is Pentecost and the liturgy spins out fiery gusts of ecstasy. But during Advent, I am always in sync with the season. Advent unfailingly embraces and comprehends my reality. And what is that? [I think the word longing says it best] . . . Advent is when the church can no longer contain its unfulfilled desire and the cry of longing bursts forth: Come Lord Jesus! O Come, O Come Emmanuel!
Just like the candle burning on the Advent wreath, Jeremiah is confronted with his own city of
Advent is a time of waiting. It is a time of waiting for what is coming—which is the definition of Advent. But it is also a time of longing and I think there is a big difference between waiting for something and longing for something. You can wait for something big to happen, but you can also just wait for the bus or wait for dessert to be served. Longing has a more emotional feel to it. When you wait for something, you usually expect that you will get what you wait for, although that doesn’t always happen. To me longing implies that maybe you won’t get what you are longing for, at least not for a long time.
When I was a little girl I really longed for a sibling. I was the first and only grandchild on both sides of my family for a long time. My parents longed for another child too, but my mother just couldn’t carry any more children to term—so when I was eight and half years old they adopted my brother. My parents brought him home from
What do you long for? Maybe you long for some peace and quiet after a weekend of family togetherness—or maybe I’m just channeling my needs on to you! But I believe we all have longings for something—longings that are more than just needs and wants for ourselves. So what do you really long for? Allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to really long for something. As I listen to the cries of the prophet Jeremiah, I too long for the day that is surely coming when God’s future of peace and redemption will be a reality for our world. I long for the day that is surely coming when in God’s future the poor are not sent to shelters or forced to sleep on the streets. I long for the day when those who want to work and who are looking for work find employment. I long for the day when my daughter Hadley’s student is loved enough that someone notices when he is murdered and stuffed in a closet. I long for the day when we don’t have to send our young men and women to places that are far away to fight wars because in God’s future there is no war. I long for the day that is surely coming when God’s future does not allow for hate or prejudice or suffering. What do you long for?
In our broken world, where we long for God’s future, Luke’s gospel also offers us hope and expectation. Despite some frightening images Jesus tells us that he will come again because God wants to redeem us. In the midst of fearful and unknown forces that seem to swirl around us, Jesus calls us to “stand up and raise [our] heads because [our] redemption is drawing near.” What we long for is coming. A better world can break forth at any time and we need to be ready for it.
I wish I had the confidence of a prophet like Jeremiah who shares with his people hope for a better future to come. I long for people to know this God who Jeremiah is talking about and who Jesus will incarnate with his birth. This is a God who hears his people when they are longing for the days that are surely coming when God’s righteous future will be realized. I long for us all to know the God who will in his own time bring more mercy and more justice than we can ever grasp.
The good news of Advent is not just that Christ is coming, but that his coming means that we can have hope despite all that is falling apart in our lives, in our communities and in our world. Just like leaves on a fig tree offer hope in the winter that summer is coming, God’s word in Jesus promises us new life. Our longing and yearnings will be fulfilled in the days that are surely coming. Advent allows us to hope for something new. “Stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” (v. 28) “Be alert at all times” (v. 36). May we leave here today with a commitment to use this season of Advent to prepare for God’s kingdom that is surely coming. May we prepare ourselves to welcome our Prince of Peace—both the little baby and our risen Lord. Amen.
Resources
A great deal of the content of this sermon comes from Feasting on the Word
Year C, Volume 1 – First Sunday of Advent