The Test of Time

For me, this is perhaps the most jarring Sunday of our liturgical year. About this time last week, our Gospel held us in the last earthly moments of our Savior Christ’s life, as He hung on the cross – even then delivering the confessing thief into Paradise. We celebrated Christ the King Sunday – one of the High Holy Days of the year – the last victorious Sunday of our Church Year. Christ had won the Victory! We had been saved and were safe in His Death-Conquering-Kingdom! But somehow, in a week, we are to put all that we have come to fall back on behind us, and start all over again, with an eye on both Jesus’ first birth, and His final judgment. Does anyone beside me have a hard time jumping into the annual time twist of Advent?

But unless we are willing to do just that – unless we are willing to commit ourselves to rethink a comfortable victory in Christ, we are likely to miss the new revelations - the unsettling opportunities - of Advent.

Gratefully, our OT reading starts us off with a bit of last Sunday’s victory. Isaiah’s poem is a serene prophesy of peace – of a future, world-filling vision, in which all people will eagerly “flow” to the high bright mountain of God. The tools of violence will be rendered useless. The very trade of war – the learning of war – will end. God Himself will teach us how to live, and He will show us His pathways. We know that with Jesus’ birth, Isaiah’s vision of Our God with us was made real. Jesus is the Emmanuel. He is that High Temple Light of God, and our living teacher and guide!
But that begs the question: What about the rest of Isaiah’s prophesy? Have we “beaten our swords into plowshares, and our spears into pruning hooks?” Has war ceased? Or famine? Or injustice? Sadly, is there even a pocket even in our own community - where we can proclaim a Godly “YES Lord! It is finished!”

Isaiah seems to be speaking of an “already… but not yet” kingdom of God. And it’s the “not yet” part that is likely to make even the most devout among us a bit nervous.
Today’s Gospel describes the cataclysmic nature of Christ’s final coming, when “one will be taken, and one will be left behind.” Christ is returning, not with the whispered deliverance of the gentle, suffering Savior, but as the world-rocking conqueror King - with demolition and judgment on his mind! It will be too late then to “make nice” with God. All the secret hypocrisies, carefully hidden away in our own dark corners, will be exposed in the flash of Christ’s return. Then, He will come as the raging floods of Noah - so quickly that those of us casually going about our daily life, in an every-day sort of fog, will be snatched by an undertow of terror. And, though His coming will be sudden, it will not come as indiscriminate destruction. Rather, He will sweep over the world with the holy precision of a divine plucker, selecting from the annihilation only those individual, alert souls who are judged ripe and worthy of harvesting. All the rest will be left to their panicked and dreadful doom.

Who among us does not feel a spasm of cold queasiness at the thought of such absolute Divine Judgment? What’s more, Jesus’ embeds today’s reading in Gospel Terror! Read Matthew 24 sometime. It’ll shake you up! Most of Matthew 24, in fact, forms a sort of a 3-Act play on the Apocalypse. Each act concludes with a renewed call to discipleship in the here and now. In Act One the call is for enduring love, today; in Act 2, it’s discernment, today, and here, in Act 3, Jesus calls us to alertness – to full conscious, attention.

A great irony in all this, is that our alertness and anticipation of Christ’s final coming is all muddled up with the fast approach of our annual celebration of His first coming! Look at the festive beauty of our Sanctuary! We are filled to the brim with spectacular Christmas poinsettias, and garlands! It’s hard to focus attention on the potential trauma of Christ’s final coming, when we are surrounded by the serene magnificence of preparations for his first coming! And, given the choice of focusing on the savior child or the returning judge, I know which I’d rather be alert to!

So here we are on this first Sunday of Advent, with one grand, but partially fulfilled prophesy of Peace and Unity, and another of explicit destruction and individual judgment. We find ourselves anticipating remembering Christ’s first birth - in the silence and humility of the manger - even as we are remembering the anticipation of Christ’s final appearing - in explosive power and judgment! We can find ourselves in a theological time warp, in which we somehow look forward to what was, even as we remember what has yet to happen. According to Isaiah and Jesus, God’s Kingdom is Already, but at the same time, Not Yet. God’s Kingdom is Now, and Later. We cannot help but wonder if Time is not somehow more than it appears to be to us, and that Time is in God’s hands. God holds the beginning, and the end; we are encircled by Christ’s first entrance in Time, and His final Gathering of Time.

As I prepared for this sermon – sort of lived with these writings as I do – I happened upon a catalogue ad for a clock - something called a “Life Counter.” For around $100, you program your gender and age into this thing, and it will count down the hours, minutes and seconds left in your estimated lifetime! Like some obsessive accountant, hunched over the coldest of actuarial tables, it permits a man or woman to watch his or her expected 75 or 80 years tick away. To keep the recipient from becoming depressed by all this, every 60 seconds the “Life Counter” pauses long enough to flash a message of encouragement, like: “You are special” or “Take time for You” or “Eat your vegetables” or whatever. Can you imagine such a dismal thing?

But, as horrible as it was, I couldn’t get that gadget out of my mind. Such a time-machine is a disturbing bookkeeper, so chillingly specific, so disinterested in my sleepy excuses. Every hour is marked, every minute is noted, every second is calculated – then gone. The Life Counter incessantly clicks the question: Does my life count for anything? Does my life count? Does it? Does it? Does it?

But, as I thought about it, I became more appreciative of the Life Counter. When we see that time is limited - that we are not in control of how much of it we will have - we are less likely to take it for granted. We are apt to think more consciously about what we DO with our time, and we perhaps even apply our lives more wisely to it.
So, how are we to use our Time? What does it mean for Christians to be alert and ready for Christ’s return? Are we simply to sit at the ready, in a no man’s land of holy attention?

Paul’s Epistle to the Romans does not mince words. Romans 13 is a sort of instruction manual for Christian vigilance in a non-Christian world. Paul makes it very simple, very basic: Don’t focus on the desires of your flesh, turn away from the darkness of self-focus, and simply Love.

There are several different words for love in Greek, and Paul is quite specific about the kind of love to which Christ calls us. We are to spend our time offering agape love, the kind of love that shines the life-affirming warmth of Christ’s light. Agape does not seek its own satisfaction; rather it is a selfless love that brings hope and blessing even when all seems dark and desperate. Paul tells us – with imperative after imperative – “do not make” any provisions for fleshly desires! “Put on” the Lord Jesus Christ!
As simple and direct as Paul’s words are, that’s a very tall order; in fact it is an impossible order – without Christ’s empowerment. Besides, in the abstract ‘agape’ encounters we might conjure up, as we sit in our comfortable pews, in this beautiful church, in our affluent country, we can hardly see the real darkness just outside those church doors, much less deep inside our own fleshy hearts. But for the Romans, Paul’s imperative to “put on’” the “armor of Light” was a battle cry – not of war, but of willingness – willingness to carry Christ’s light – at whatever cost – out to meet the darkness, to challenge it, and ultimately to overwhelm it with the sheer flooding light of selfless, embodied Love.

Not long after the Roman Church received Paul’s letter, Emperor Nero would think he could quench the light of Christ, by literally igniting Christians as torches along the dark highways leading up to the seven hills of Rome. Persecution has a way of keeping one alert and ready. For Roman Christians, each encounter had at least the potential for danger. They likely knew, quite personally, that each day – that all Time - was a gift that could end in a flash. Their commitment was tested every day. And though, thank God, we do not in this country have much experience of persecution to temper our armor and rouse our light, we do have exactly what Paul and the Romans, and the disciples had. And it is all that we need.

We have Christ. We have Emmanuel – God with us! I believe there is another, perhaps quieter Advent we celebrate here today. It is the Advent that straightens out the muddle of Time, and makes clear the relationship between Christ’s first coming and His final return. Today, on this first Sunday of Advent, we also remember, and anticipate, Christ’s daily Advent in our own temporal hearts. It is God’s very nature to come to us – through Emanuel Christ – over and over and over again. He has already come, and He will come, and… He is here right now. By the Holy Spirit, He is sitting in the pew next to you, seeking more of your heart right this minute. He offers himself – His very body and blood - to you at this altar. He is waiting for you to receive ever more of His feeding Light.

Will I have the ears to hear his guiding voice? Will you have the eyes to see His approaching light? Will any of us have hearts that can be taught? Surrounded by this beautiful sanctuary, I know I want to be able to shout: “Yes Lord, it is finished! I’m listening! I do Love you Lord! Come Lord Jesus Come!” But there is only one way to know if I’m alert to Christ’s Advent. There’s only one real indicator of whether my words are those of an armor-clad bearer of light, or a sleep-walker in the dark.
Time. Time is God’s flowing Gift to us, and it is the only vehicle through which we exercise complete Free Will. No matter what our age, or health, or circumstance, we choose how we use whatever Time God has given us. Whether I live another 50 years, or die tomorrow, Time is the Lord’s Treasure, offered to me, through which I can choose to deliver Christ’s light, or my own selfishness and pride – moment by moment.

Importantly, alertness is not a call to compulsivity – to workaholic control or fear or pride; it is a call to consciousness. Just as God has entrusted us with the use of His Time, so we are, at times, to entrust others with their use of Time. Sometimes the Godly use of Time involves letting go, rather than taking hold!

I had thought that God had given me other gifts. I had thought God had given me my family, and my friends, for example. But that’s not really it. God gives me Time to be with my family (or not), to love them (or neglect them), to serve them (or to use them.) He has given Time for intimacy and trust: to build and strengthen relationships with friends, or to gossip, and compete with those in my life’s circle. He has offers me time to forgive and ask forgiveness (or to blame and resent.)

The same is true of our communities – and our world. We are entrusted with God’s Time - to serve humbly (or to seek self-aggrandizement), to build bridges that help create just and equitable societies (or to manipulate and grasp our way to personal comfort.) We are given Time to work for peace (or make war.)
God has not given us our families, friends or our environment. (All of these belong to God alone!) God has given each of us the holy gift of Time, and with that He has given us opportunity and choice - to heal or to hurt, to love or to neglect, to bring Christ’s light, or our own dark indifference.

This first jarring Sunday of Advent, reminds us of all God’s Advents: in Christ’s first coming, and in his final coming. But in a funny way, neither of those appearances will make much difference unless we are alert to Christ’s ongoing Advent – day by day, moment by moment. Emanuel is at your home, and at your work, in our city, and in our nation. He is at this Table. The question is whether we are awake and responsive to His seeking presence in Time - in the High mountain that is the beauty of our worshiping family, and in the rushing water that is daily life and relationships.

This advent – today – I pray we each decide to use the Gift the Cosmic King has given us – the Gift of Time - to examine our own hearts, and root out the darkness that keeps our flesh comfortably indifferent or pridefully controlling . This Advent, let us expose those shadows to Christ’s light, and allow Emmanuel to sanctify your Time – our Lives – anew! Hear the cry from His crèche, and feel the flashing power from His Victorious Mountain, and know that, with Christ, your Life Counts – today and eternally - because He has called you, and He is calling you right now, and He will continue to call you – to commission you with His armor of light - as you leave this Advent service today to:

Go in peace - to Love …and Serve the Lord! Thanks be to God! Amen!