Sunday, December 1, 2019

December 1 Sermon

May the sounds of Advent stir a longing in your people, O God. Come again to set us free from the dullness of routine and the poverty of our imaginations. Break the patterns which bind us to small commitments and to the stale answers we have given to questions of no importance. Let the Advent trumpet blow, let the walls of our defenses crumble, and make a place in our lives for the freshness of your love, well-lived in the Spirit, and still given to all who know their need and dare receive it. Amen. (Howard Thurman, The Mood of Christmas).

Longing and waiting. Two themes of Advent.

We each have that longing to find God, and so we journey to those places where we believe God dwells, we go to church, we visit sacred places. Some of those places are sacred places for many people like the Temple in Jerusalem, other places have become sacred to us (Cathedrals & shrines). Perhaps it is the garden we kneel down in and tend to, perhaps it is a place from our childhood wanderings. Maybe it is our front porch or kitchen or barn. Or an activity that you do, music or biking or boating. Wherever your sacred place or places are, it is where you take your longing for God and transfer that longing into prayer. Where you take that thirsty soul and let it loose and send it out to connect with God.

Mahatma Gandhi said that Prayer is not asking, it is a longing of the soul. The dwelling place of God is wherever we lift the veil that separates us from God, and invite God in. Where does God dwell for you? Where do you let the longing of your soul loose, and connect to God?

But so often that holy longing is displaced. Interrupted by routines that do not feed our soul. Fears that imprison our imaginations. Patterns of life that are dull and stale and bind us to things of no real importance.

Advent comes every year to remind us of this holy longing. For us to pause our lives and seek out God; to break free from all that holds us back.

And in this longing is also waiting. Waiting for what God is going to do just as God had done it in the past, breaking forth in unimagined ways. Waiting for our God in our lives, as we seek and search out God who is already in our midst.

Bernard of Clairvaux, the twelfth-century abbot and theologian, wrote of “three Advents”: first of all, the Incarnation, the Advent at Christmas; and last of all, the Advent at the end of the age (Matthew’s subject in this week’s Gospel). And the second or “middle” Advent, the one in between these other two, is the everyday arrival of Jesus: the host at the table, the still small voice, the hungry mother, the weary refugee. In other words, Jesus comes to us again and again, a thousand swords remade into a thousand ploughshares in Isaiah’s imagery. The new era of God’s shalom is dawning even now - though its glimmers appear in unexpected places and at unexpected hours, like a thief in the night. (Salt Blog)

Longing and waiting – our journey in Advent – finding God in our midst.

She saw the posting on a professional web site: an editing position with a major publisher of cookbooks. This was her dream job. So she re-worked and edited her resume, wrote and re-wrote a concise cover letter that checked all the boxes in the posting, and sent it off.

Then the first round of waiting began. But while she waited, she discretely asked friends in the business what they knew about the publisher and the kind of shop they ran. She researched the company’s most successful projects — and their biggest flops. She also checked out the company’s financial picture — how stable are they and how is their market trending?

Then she got a call. Could she come in for an interview? Of course! she said, trying to remain cool and professional. A day and time were arranged.

She then set to work imagining the questions she would be asked, what they would most like to know about her and her experience and how well her skills matched up with what the company was looking for. She also collected samples of her work that best showcased those skills.

The first interview went well, she thought. The interviewer thanked her for coming and said they would be in touch. More waiting. She went over her first interview again and again, re-working some of her answers and re-thinking her responses to questions that threw her. After that first interview, she had a better sense of what the company was looking for this hire and re-worked her portfolio.

After what seemed like an eternity, she was called back for a second interview — this time with the editor she would be working for. Before the meeting, she was able to talk with a former boss of hers who knew the editor and the publisher’s work. He offered wise counsel to her on how to approach the interview. He even offered to make a call to the editor on her behalf.

She met with the editor for over two hours. They immediately clicked, swapping ideas like trusted colleagues. The meeting ended with an offer, which she accepted immediately.

She owes her dream job to her ability to wait in the spirit of Advent.

We think of such waiting as wasted time: preventing us from moving while we wait for someone else to act. But the season of Advent calls us to a more creative waiting: envisioning what is to come and living in ways for that vision to be realized. Longing & Waiting are part of the human experience. Advent is about waiting in hope, anticipating the good that is possible and can be fulfilled in the dawning of Jesus Christ and the longing of our souls.

Residing in our faithfulness to God’s ways, so that the walls of our defenses may crumble and we can make a place in our lives for the freshness of God’s love, well-lived in the Spirit, guiding us toward the fulfillment of Advent, of God coming among us. Amen.

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