How do we wait faithfully?

By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector

​Isaiah 11:1-10 | Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19 | Romans 15:4-13 | Matthew 3:1-12


In Advent, we await the coming of Christ. We ready ourselves to recall the birth of Jesus’ in Bethlehem, and his eventual ministry. This part of the waiting feels clearer. 
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In our family, there is a long tradition of setting up our creche. As a child, I remember eagerly setting up my grandmother’s creche, and together we would recall the story of Jesus’ birth. This tradition carried on with our oldest and in recent years it has been our youngest, who takes responsibility for setting up our creche. Together we remember the great mystery of God, Love in human flesh, breaking into our world in the form of a newborn child. In remembering this, we reground ourselves in the incredible joy and hope that comes from being in relationship with God. It strengthens us for the journey, empowering us to wait faithfully. 

What is less clear, is the other kind of waiting we do in Advent. As we await the Coming of Christ that is yet-to-be. The ambiguity of that Coming is deeply uncomfortable - especially for those of us who prefer a sense of order or working with a clearly articulated plan. Except we are not privy to such plans. Those are known by God alone. 

The early Church thought this Coming that is yet-to-be would be in their lifetimes, and strived to live their lives as such. Over the centuries, the arrival of that someday-soon became more ambiguous. With that shift it has become easier for us to stop living our lives with the same sense of urgency that once guided the actions of our ancestors in faith. After all, it’s unlikely to even be during our lifetimes. Without that sense of urgency it is easy to become cavalier about the necessity of living our lives as faithfully as we possibly can. Instead we get bogged down by the challenges and responsibilities that consume our daily lives. The work of bringing about God’s dream for this world so we might prepare for that Coming that is yet-to-be begins to sound like a meeting that could probably get rescheduled for next month, or maybe tabled altogether.
 
When we pause to recall the meaning of Advent, we remind ourselves this season is about awaiting the greatest Love ever known, breaking open our world, and breaking each of us open along the way. If we slow down long enough to notice, we will find the hope and courage needed to recall God’s dream, and reignite our collective sense of urgency. An urgency that is necessary. It helps us better understand how to wait faithfully, by increasing our capacity  to tolerate, and live into, the ambiguity of a life of faith. At the same time, that urgency emphasizes our collective call to work in concert with the Holy Spirit to bring about God’s dream for this world through acts of mercy, justice, and kindness. 

One reason we gather in weekly worship is to collectively remember what God has told us about their dream for our world and the qualities and characteristics that will help us journey towards that dream. Both readings from Hebrew Scriptures - Isaiah and Psalms - point us towards the kind of leaders needed for that dream to draw near. Isaiah paints a picture of a righteous and just king:

The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him,
    the spirit of wisdom and understanding,
    the spirit of counsel and might,
    the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.
His delight shall be in the fear of the Lord.
He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
    or decide by what his ears hear;
but with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
    and decide with equity for the meek of the earth; (11: 2-4a)

Isaiah goes on to make the point - as only a poet can do - that under this kind of leadership, the wolf and lamb can live side by side. Isaiah offers such rich imagery; so much of which can be read as fulfilled in the life, death, and ministry of Jesus Christ. Yet in many ways, when we read it with only our Christian lens, we miss the deep longing of ancient Israel and the prophetic hope for what is possible in God’s dream. 

This deep longing and prophetic hope for what can-be but is still yet-to-be is visceral at this hour in our common life. This year we have seen injustice carried out in the name of justice, as:

• resources once meant to alleviate poverty were slashed or eliminated;
• it became acceptable to scapegoat transgender and nonbinary siblings;
• refugee and undocumented siblings were hunted down and deported; 

The curtain has been torn away, and we are forced to see the true ugliness that is possible when fear, self-interest, and greed inform the actions of those in power. The end result is a world where justice feels somehow further away than it did five or ten years ago. And to be clear - this is not about political parties or even particular politicians. 

This is about humanity, in our corner of God’s world, shifting our overall values from concern for our collective wellbeing to concern for our individual wellbeing. It reflects a turning - away from our neighbor, away from our siblings, and away from God. That is the definition of sin. It is why in Matthew’s Gospel both John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth begin their public ministries with the same exact words: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near ” (3:2; 4:17).

Repent. 
Turn back towards God. 
Turn back towards our siblings. 
Turn back towards our neighbors. 
Turn back towards our collective wellbeing. 
Turn back towards our care of creation.
May we, as the people of God in this corner of God’s world, repent.
May we turn towards God’s dream and one another. 

The psalmist in today’s reading has the right idea - of how we turn from the injustices of those in power towards the prophetic imagination of what true leadership looks like in God’s eyes. The psalmist is offering a prayer for ancient Israel as they yearn for God to grant them a king with a deep understanding of God’s sense of justice and righteousness.* A king that would defend and rescue those facing poverty, while crushing down those who implement systems and structures of oppression (72:2,4). A leader who would bring prosperity for all - including creation itself, bringing an abundance of peace into God’s world (72:3,7).   Like the psalmist, we can collectively turn to God in prayer, while holding onto the prophetic imagination and hope articulated in Isaiah. If we are to heed John and Jesus' words, to repent, and turn towards God’s dream and one another, we need to be people grounded in prayer. Praying that our elected officials and community leaders may be wise and granted a deep understanding of justice and righteousness. To be clear - not because these leaders need to be Christian or religious. Rather because we need leaders who concern themselves with the wellbeing of all people, especially those most marginalised, and with all of creation. 

What if in the coming year we each were to pray daily for leaders of every level of governance and community, that they may be granted wisdom and understanding, and to be just leaders who act with mercy for the betterment of all they serve, and all whose lives they touch? How might hearts and minds soften and shift? We will only know if we lean in and trust the Spirit. 

As we prepare to head back out into an aching world today, I would invite each of us to keep reflecting on the themes that arise in Advent.

• Where do we need to repent and turn back towards our neighbor, siblings, God, and creation?

 

• What does it mean to wait faithfully at this season in our life?
  
  
  
• When has God’s Love broken us open, and what difference did it make?

 

• What would it look like to pray for leaders of justice and righteousness?

Amen. 


*  See fuller discussion of psalm in commentary https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-psalm-721-7-18-19-6

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