Reading the last chapter first
Commentary
Object:
Christmas comes earlier every year. At least the Christmas season starts earlier every year. Haven't we all preached some sermon like that? The pastor takes on the culture and invites the congregation to hold out for a more meaningful celebration of Christmas. The season that starts now is not Christmas but Advent. Thankfully, the Advent season always starts at the same time. The four Sundays of preparation have some order and method to them. The Advent theme of waiting and preparation comes through the hymns, the candles on the wreath, the words of the prophet, the gospel texts. Liturgically speaking, the preacher is not the only voice trying to hold off Christmas and hold out for Advent.
I sat next to my son watching the theater production of The Lion King. The staging and the costumes were spectacular. At times I would have thought the view from our seats was almost scary. I leaned over to my young son and asked him if he was okay. With eyes opened wide, he assured me he was fine. I asked him why he wasn't scared. He told me it was because he knew the ending. He knew everything would be all right. He had already watched the Disney video. It was as if he had read the last chapter first.
The First Sunday of Advent is a bit like reading the last chapter first. While turning once again to preparations that surround the birth of Christ, those preparations also call us to prepare for the Second Coming of Christ. Themes related to the Second Advent of Christ help to place Christmas in a broader theological context. Consideration of that Second Coming necessarily reduces the stress placed on Christmas those first days after Thanksgiving. Images of waiting and preparation take on more meaning than a countdown of days. Belief in the Savior's return informs the content of the faith journey now. The last chapter informs our experience of the liturgical season. Advent begins by pondering the end. The refrain of Advent is not "Christ the Savior is born" or "Peace on Earth," but "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!"
Isaiah 64:1-9
These verses from the beginning of Isaiah 64 are part of a larger prayer of lament that begins at 63:7. It is a communal lament embedded in the larger context of Third Isaiah. After the return from Babylon in the midst of spiritual unrest and physical suffering, the prophet lifts a corporate plea to God. The form and content of the lament strikes familiar themes. The prophet begins by remembering what God has done (63:7-9). The remembering also includes a recounting of Israel's turning away from God (63:10-19). The disobedience of God's people results in both indifference and the opposition of God. As the passionate plea moves into chapter 64, the prophet offers a cry that God would act.
Confronted with the desolation of the community in the post-exilic setting and having recounted something of the tumultuous relationship between God and God's people, the plea is for God to intervene in a way that will cause the very creation to shake (64:1-2). With the magnitude of such action, the enemies and the nations would shake at God's presence as well. The plea for divine intervention affirms that God has done it before and that this God who hears the lament is a God unlike any other (64:4-5). In recounting the mighty deeds of God, the voice of the prophet again links the current suffering to an understanding of the people's disobedience and God's anger. So speaking in that corporate voice, the prayer of lament must include the theme of confession (64:5-6). With these words of confession, the prophet's view of the plight of the nation and the community's plea that God would act both come back to an affirmation of the faithfulness of God and the sinfulness of the people. For "our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth... and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away" (64:6).
While affirming the disobedience of the people and the perceived distance and hiddenness of God in the midst of the current struggle (64:7), Third Isaiah returns to the theme of God's relationship with the nation of Israel. The direction of the content of the prayer follows from remembering God and Israel's plight, to demanding that God would act, to offering a corporate confession, and then to restating God's faithfulness in relation to God's people. With those familiar images of the potter and the clay, the lament shifts from confession back to affirmation. And the plea could not be clearer: "Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord, and do not remember iniquity forever" (64:9).
The prayer of lament concludes in verses 10-12 with a clear reference to the specific history of Third Isaiah. The conclusion calls upon God to see the desolation and the ruin. Look around, God, "will you restrain yourself, O Lord? Will you keep silent and punish us so severely?" However, the lectionary assignment stops at verse 9. In a manner that seems to broaden the context of such a prayer, the reading simply stops with the simple plea "Now consider, we are all your people" (64:9b). Though the prayer reclaims its historical roots in those last verses, a reading that stops with verse 9 invites the listeners to join that petition "Now remember, we are all your people!"
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
With these first verses of his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul attests to the certain return of the Lord Jesus Christ, while affirming the God-given characteristics of life in the community of faith. It would seem the text could just as easily begin right at verse 1. The listeners in the congregation don't often hear those sections that remind us of the letter form of Paul's writing. The salutation so clearly moves into the thanksgiving that it doesn't seem necessary to begin at verse 3. After the greeting, Paul offers thanks to God for the community of faith at Corinth and for their experience of the grace of Christ (v. 4). The reader/listener/preacher knows that Paul will quickly move to name the challenges and confront the problems that plague the community. Given the strife, the thanksgiving may be all the stronger.
Of course, for Paul, the words of praise and thanksgiving say more about God than they do about the community. While witnessing to that grace of Christ, Paul mentions knowledge and rhetoric -- two areas he will come back to in the body of the letter. God has given the Corinthian community many gifts. Every aspect of life ought to be reflecting that grace of God. For those who have testified or proclaimed the work of Christ, that ministry has been strengthened. The foundation is there. The resources that come from God shall not be questioned -- for the faithful have been enriched in every way and in terms of spiritual gifts, nothing should be lacking.
No doubt Paul will go on to describe the divisions and the disagreements and the disobedience in much detail. Here, while offering thanks, Paul describes this period of struggle as a time of waiting, an interim time. The wait is for the "revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ" (v. 7). What will be coming is "the day of our Lord Jesus Christ" (v. 8). The letter comes with the full expectation that Christ shall be coming again soon. God, who has so richly blessed the community with the grace that reaches every corner of life, that God will surely offer the same grace that brings strength in the waiting that comes until the end.
The days of waiting, however, are meant for action and testimony and the nurturing of community. The urgency of Paul's writing addresses immediate concerns. It's more than just about being ready. God will give strength and you (i.e., the Corinthian Christians) are lacking in no spiritual gift and you have been called into fellowship. Yes, the promise is that you will be "blameless" when Christ comes again. But the reflection of that work of Christ among you, that work to present you blameless, comes in the quality of your strength, the display of your spiritual gifts, and the degree of your fellowship. A community in waiting is a dynamic community that exudes the presence of Christ in the power of the Spirit.
Very quickly Paul launches into his laundry list of concerns (vv. 1:10ff). But in this salutation and thanksgiving, so easily passed over by those who want to preach the meat of Paul's argument, the reader catches a glimpse of Paul's vision for the community. As he gives thanks to God for this community in Corinth that faces such challenge, his words leave little doubt as to the all-sufficient power and grace of God, for the community was called into fellowship by God who provided the grace to enrich in every way. The affirmation that provokes such thanksgiving is the same affirmation that inspires Paul's exhortation to the faithful at Corinth: "God is faithful" (1:9).
Mark 13:24-37
In all three years of the lectionary cycle, Advent 1's gospel selection comes from the "Little Apocalypse" in the teaching of Jesus. The descriptive phrase comes from comparisons to broader apocalyptic literature and specifically to the book of Revelation. With a mix of frightening imagery and strong affirmation, Jesus tells of the end of the age. Here in Mark, Jesus has just pointed to the poor widow dropping coins in the temple offering (12:41-44). As the disciples admire the large stones of the temple, Jesus foretells its destruction. Peter, James, Andrew, and John ask for more information and Jesus launches into a longer section with perhaps familiar words of "wars and rumors of wars," nation against nation, earthquakes and famines (13:1-8). The message gets more specific with the phrase "as for yourselves" (13:9) and the Lord goes on to tell of trials, brother against brother, persecution, and the promise that "the one who endures to the end will be saved" (13:13).
After telling of more troubling scenes of fleeing to the mountains and pregnant women and false messiahs (14-23), Jesus seems to take a breath and reflect some more about "those days," the days after the suffering. Here begins the gospel lesson for this First Sunday of Advent. Amid the suffering and persecution, the earth and heavens themselves are left to shake. Only then will they see the Son of Man "coming in clouds with great power and glory" (13:24-26). Perhaps the reader of Mark's gospel will remember that description of the Lord's return in Revelation 1. And the arrival of Christ marks the gathering of the faithful from the end of the earth (13:27).
As the description of that Second Coming hangs in the air, Jesus turns back to the disciples, telling them to learn from the fig tree. Watch for the signs all around you and that puzzling verse that provides material for all the end-time predictors: "Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place" (13:30). With predictions and signs all around, Jesus then affirms that no one will know. So at the end of the day, the exhortation to the disciples is not that complicated: "Beware, keep alert... Keep awake!"
The brief picture of a man going on a journey while placing the servants in charge strikes a familiar chord for the reader (13:34). With heightened levels of anticipation, the servants must still go about the work entrusted to them by the master. Keeping watch must not be confused with an idle time of waiting, for the master's work must still be done.
For Mark, in the narrative of his gospel, the servant's work that follows all the teaching about the end time comes in the form of the woman who anointed Jesus with the costly ointment (14:1-11). In the midst of the waiting, the devotion shown by the woman reflects a faithfulness and attention to the master's care. Of course, those who hear the gospel soon learn that the devotion with which the servants attend to the master and prepare for his death must be matched by that same devotion in carrying out his work. While the wait goes on disciples of Christ must still be alert, devoted to the master's work and the care of his kingdom.
Application
The gospel lesson on this First Sunday of Advent places a picture on the screen that goes far beyond Christmas and holiday preparations. Once again, Advent begins on Thanksgiving weekend. Families are gathering. The warmth of the season begins. The hearers gather, expecting morning worship to finish a nice holiday weekend while launching another few weeks of Christmas anticipation. Then the gospel lesson is read. The holiday mood is jarred. A bit of confusion sets in as listeners process end-time images with the pleasantries of recent days past. Yes, the gospel lessons turn to talk of the apocalypse every year when Advent begins but congregations never get used to it. To hear that "the sun will be darkened" and that "heaven and earth will pass away" and to be told to "keep awake" -- it's just a bit unsettling! To hear it when surrounded by the popular religious culture that thrives on talk of the rapture, well, that just makes it all the more challenging.
Perhaps the two theological themes, incarnation and eschatology, are intended to be held together. It is more difficult to sentimentalize Advent and Christmas and the coming of the Christ Child when one preaches in the context of the end of time. Similarly, preachers who thrive on preaching the end time would probably do well to place the entire discussion in the context of the love God revealed when the Word became flesh. So the congregation rises on the First Sunday of Advent to allow the last chapter to inform the first.
It is hard to miss the Lord's exhortation not to worry about dates and times, for even the angels in heaven and Christ himself do not know the time frame. The magnitude of that end-of-time scenario ought to serve as a caution against preachers who want to reduce these weeks of Advent to preparation that is fulfilled through perfect attendance at the church programs. Jesus' teaching about the Second Coming expands the experience of Advent far beyond the walls of the church and the solitary spiritual experience of the listener. As the faithful keep awake, remaining faithful as servants taking care of the master's kingdom and carrying out the master's work, they participate in God's plan of salvation for all of creation. The cosmic detail provided is not intended for prediction but to affirm the magnitude of the task set before the people of God.
The canonical context of Mark's gospel, and in fact the broader tradition of the gospel story, must provide the necessary framework that allows the talk of the Second Coming to be firmly rooted in hope. That hope is mentioned in the other lectionary texts for the day. The hope is proclaimed in the hymns we sing in Advent. The call to stay awake and be ready is an exhortation to a life of faithful anticipation rather than a fearful deathwatch. Indeed, the broader understanding of the relationship of God and God's people comes to an incredible focus in the birth of the Child Jesus. God's love of cosmic proportions is made known to us in the form of a child to be touched and held and seen.
So Advent is bigger than all of us. Christmas is bigger than all of us. We stand on the threshold of the season of waiting and preparation, knowing that one time through the celebration is never enough. But every time we live through and worship through these days of Advent, our encounter with the love and hope of God's presence can indeed transform each and every one of us. It may be bigger than us but it includes us. Maybe it is easier to read the last chapter first because you will know your place as that story unfolds, again and again.
Alternative Applications Isaiah 64:1-9. The prayer echoed in the voice of the prophet in Isaiah 64 may provide the refrain of the congregation's prayer for the world: "O that you would tear open the heavens and come down," O Lord. Given the depth of the pastoral prayer in these days, there is little doubt that the sermon itself ought to be a prayer once in a while. While some may choose to allow the sermon form to be that of a prayer, others may choose to describe the congregation's celebration of Advent this year as a prayer, dare we say a lament. Allowing the literary form of the text to inform the sermon would indicate a movement from lament, to confession, to an affirmation of relationship with God, and finally to a passionate conclusion. "We are all your people." Indeed God did open the heavens and come down that night when the Savior was born. Creation still cries. The nights are far from silent. And so come down again, Lord Jesus. Come all the way down to us.
1 Corinthians 1:3-9. The text from Paul in 1 Corinthians suggests the affirmation of the plethora of spiritual gifts present in the community of faith. The approaching season mandates so much talk of giving. Faced with such abundance, many will easily see the needs of so many in our communities as well. Perhaps the pastor would like to stop right at the beginning and affirm that as a community of faith, there is no lack when it comes to God's gifts and the ministry of the Holy Spirit in our midst. The preacher can take the chance to find those holy places of ministry among the laity and affirm them in the context of God's abundant grace. One of my colleagues exhorted our congregation to celebrate those gifts by answering the question "In what way can we see God at work among us?" With the words of Paul, you can hear the refrain, "In every way!"
Mark 13:24-37. For congregations who will celebrate the Lord's Supper, this Sunday in Advent provides the opportunity for stressing the forward-looking aspects of our Communion celebration. We do pretty well at the remembering part. But the clear theme of a kingdom meal, "the foretaste of glory divine," is present in the liturgy as well. If the preacher were to go back and look at a year's worth of Communion sermons, most would likely be about looking back. Here on the First Sunday of Advent, the church gathers to feast and look ahead.
I sat next to my son watching the theater production of The Lion King. The staging and the costumes were spectacular. At times I would have thought the view from our seats was almost scary. I leaned over to my young son and asked him if he was okay. With eyes opened wide, he assured me he was fine. I asked him why he wasn't scared. He told me it was because he knew the ending. He knew everything would be all right. He had already watched the Disney video. It was as if he had read the last chapter first.
The First Sunday of Advent is a bit like reading the last chapter first. While turning once again to preparations that surround the birth of Christ, those preparations also call us to prepare for the Second Coming of Christ. Themes related to the Second Advent of Christ help to place Christmas in a broader theological context. Consideration of that Second Coming necessarily reduces the stress placed on Christmas those first days after Thanksgiving. Images of waiting and preparation take on more meaning than a countdown of days. Belief in the Savior's return informs the content of the faith journey now. The last chapter informs our experience of the liturgical season. Advent begins by pondering the end. The refrain of Advent is not "Christ the Savior is born" or "Peace on Earth," but "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!"
Isaiah 64:1-9
These verses from the beginning of Isaiah 64 are part of a larger prayer of lament that begins at 63:7. It is a communal lament embedded in the larger context of Third Isaiah. After the return from Babylon in the midst of spiritual unrest and physical suffering, the prophet lifts a corporate plea to God. The form and content of the lament strikes familiar themes. The prophet begins by remembering what God has done (63:7-9). The remembering also includes a recounting of Israel's turning away from God (63:10-19). The disobedience of God's people results in both indifference and the opposition of God. As the passionate plea moves into chapter 64, the prophet offers a cry that God would act.
Confronted with the desolation of the community in the post-exilic setting and having recounted something of the tumultuous relationship between God and God's people, the plea is for God to intervene in a way that will cause the very creation to shake (64:1-2). With the magnitude of such action, the enemies and the nations would shake at God's presence as well. The plea for divine intervention affirms that God has done it before and that this God who hears the lament is a God unlike any other (64:4-5). In recounting the mighty deeds of God, the voice of the prophet again links the current suffering to an understanding of the people's disobedience and God's anger. So speaking in that corporate voice, the prayer of lament must include the theme of confession (64:5-6). With these words of confession, the prophet's view of the plight of the nation and the community's plea that God would act both come back to an affirmation of the faithfulness of God and the sinfulness of the people. For "our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth... and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away" (64:6).
While affirming the disobedience of the people and the perceived distance and hiddenness of God in the midst of the current struggle (64:7), Third Isaiah returns to the theme of God's relationship with the nation of Israel. The direction of the content of the prayer follows from remembering God and Israel's plight, to demanding that God would act, to offering a corporate confession, and then to restating God's faithfulness in relation to God's people. With those familiar images of the potter and the clay, the lament shifts from confession back to affirmation. And the plea could not be clearer: "Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord, and do not remember iniquity forever" (64:9).
The prayer of lament concludes in verses 10-12 with a clear reference to the specific history of Third Isaiah. The conclusion calls upon God to see the desolation and the ruin. Look around, God, "will you restrain yourself, O Lord? Will you keep silent and punish us so severely?" However, the lectionary assignment stops at verse 9. In a manner that seems to broaden the context of such a prayer, the reading simply stops with the simple plea "Now consider, we are all your people" (64:9b). Though the prayer reclaims its historical roots in those last verses, a reading that stops with verse 9 invites the listeners to join that petition "Now remember, we are all your people!"
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
With these first verses of his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul attests to the certain return of the Lord Jesus Christ, while affirming the God-given characteristics of life in the community of faith. It would seem the text could just as easily begin right at verse 1. The listeners in the congregation don't often hear those sections that remind us of the letter form of Paul's writing. The salutation so clearly moves into the thanksgiving that it doesn't seem necessary to begin at verse 3. After the greeting, Paul offers thanks to God for the community of faith at Corinth and for their experience of the grace of Christ (v. 4). The reader/listener/preacher knows that Paul will quickly move to name the challenges and confront the problems that plague the community. Given the strife, the thanksgiving may be all the stronger.
Of course, for Paul, the words of praise and thanksgiving say more about God than they do about the community. While witnessing to that grace of Christ, Paul mentions knowledge and rhetoric -- two areas he will come back to in the body of the letter. God has given the Corinthian community many gifts. Every aspect of life ought to be reflecting that grace of God. For those who have testified or proclaimed the work of Christ, that ministry has been strengthened. The foundation is there. The resources that come from God shall not be questioned -- for the faithful have been enriched in every way and in terms of spiritual gifts, nothing should be lacking.
No doubt Paul will go on to describe the divisions and the disagreements and the disobedience in much detail. Here, while offering thanks, Paul describes this period of struggle as a time of waiting, an interim time. The wait is for the "revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ" (v. 7). What will be coming is "the day of our Lord Jesus Christ" (v. 8). The letter comes with the full expectation that Christ shall be coming again soon. God, who has so richly blessed the community with the grace that reaches every corner of life, that God will surely offer the same grace that brings strength in the waiting that comes until the end.
The days of waiting, however, are meant for action and testimony and the nurturing of community. The urgency of Paul's writing addresses immediate concerns. It's more than just about being ready. God will give strength and you (i.e., the Corinthian Christians) are lacking in no spiritual gift and you have been called into fellowship. Yes, the promise is that you will be "blameless" when Christ comes again. But the reflection of that work of Christ among you, that work to present you blameless, comes in the quality of your strength, the display of your spiritual gifts, and the degree of your fellowship. A community in waiting is a dynamic community that exudes the presence of Christ in the power of the Spirit.
Very quickly Paul launches into his laundry list of concerns (vv. 1:10ff). But in this salutation and thanksgiving, so easily passed over by those who want to preach the meat of Paul's argument, the reader catches a glimpse of Paul's vision for the community. As he gives thanks to God for this community in Corinth that faces such challenge, his words leave little doubt as to the all-sufficient power and grace of God, for the community was called into fellowship by God who provided the grace to enrich in every way. The affirmation that provokes such thanksgiving is the same affirmation that inspires Paul's exhortation to the faithful at Corinth: "God is faithful" (1:9).
Mark 13:24-37
In all three years of the lectionary cycle, Advent 1's gospel selection comes from the "Little Apocalypse" in the teaching of Jesus. The descriptive phrase comes from comparisons to broader apocalyptic literature and specifically to the book of Revelation. With a mix of frightening imagery and strong affirmation, Jesus tells of the end of the age. Here in Mark, Jesus has just pointed to the poor widow dropping coins in the temple offering (12:41-44). As the disciples admire the large stones of the temple, Jesus foretells its destruction. Peter, James, Andrew, and John ask for more information and Jesus launches into a longer section with perhaps familiar words of "wars and rumors of wars," nation against nation, earthquakes and famines (13:1-8). The message gets more specific with the phrase "as for yourselves" (13:9) and the Lord goes on to tell of trials, brother against brother, persecution, and the promise that "the one who endures to the end will be saved" (13:13).
After telling of more troubling scenes of fleeing to the mountains and pregnant women and false messiahs (14-23), Jesus seems to take a breath and reflect some more about "those days," the days after the suffering. Here begins the gospel lesson for this First Sunday of Advent. Amid the suffering and persecution, the earth and heavens themselves are left to shake. Only then will they see the Son of Man "coming in clouds with great power and glory" (13:24-26). Perhaps the reader of Mark's gospel will remember that description of the Lord's return in Revelation 1. And the arrival of Christ marks the gathering of the faithful from the end of the earth (13:27).
As the description of that Second Coming hangs in the air, Jesus turns back to the disciples, telling them to learn from the fig tree. Watch for the signs all around you and that puzzling verse that provides material for all the end-time predictors: "Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place" (13:30). With predictions and signs all around, Jesus then affirms that no one will know. So at the end of the day, the exhortation to the disciples is not that complicated: "Beware, keep alert... Keep awake!"
The brief picture of a man going on a journey while placing the servants in charge strikes a familiar chord for the reader (13:34). With heightened levels of anticipation, the servants must still go about the work entrusted to them by the master. Keeping watch must not be confused with an idle time of waiting, for the master's work must still be done.
For Mark, in the narrative of his gospel, the servant's work that follows all the teaching about the end time comes in the form of the woman who anointed Jesus with the costly ointment (14:1-11). In the midst of the waiting, the devotion shown by the woman reflects a faithfulness and attention to the master's care. Of course, those who hear the gospel soon learn that the devotion with which the servants attend to the master and prepare for his death must be matched by that same devotion in carrying out his work. While the wait goes on disciples of Christ must still be alert, devoted to the master's work and the care of his kingdom.
Application
The gospel lesson on this First Sunday of Advent places a picture on the screen that goes far beyond Christmas and holiday preparations. Once again, Advent begins on Thanksgiving weekend. Families are gathering. The warmth of the season begins. The hearers gather, expecting morning worship to finish a nice holiday weekend while launching another few weeks of Christmas anticipation. Then the gospel lesson is read. The holiday mood is jarred. A bit of confusion sets in as listeners process end-time images with the pleasantries of recent days past. Yes, the gospel lessons turn to talk of the apocalypse every year when Advent begins but congregations never get used to it. To hear that "the sun will be darkened" and that "heaven and earth will pass away" and to be told to "keep awake" -- it's just a bit unsettling! To hear it when surrounded by the popular religious culture that thrives on talk of the rapture, well, that just makes it all the more challenging.
Perhaps the two theological themes, incarnation and eschatology, are intended to be held together. It is more difficult to sentimentalize Advent and Christmas and the coming of the Christ Child when one preaches in the context of the end of time. Similarly, preachers who thrive on preaching the end time would probably do well to place the entire discussion in the context of the love God revealed when the Word became flesh. So the congregation rises on the First Sunday of Advent to allow the last chapter to inform the first.
It is hard to miss the Lord's exhortation not to worry about dates and times, for even the angels in heaven and Christ himself do not know the time frame. The magnitude of that end-of-time scenario ought to serve as a caution against preachers who want to reduce these weeks of Advent to preparation that is fulfilled through perfect attendance at the church programs. Jesus' teaching about the Second Coming expands the experience of Advent far beyond the walls of the church and the solitary spiritual experience of the listener. As the faithful keep awake, remaining faithful as servants taking care of the master's kingdom and carrying out the master's work, they participate in God's plan of salvation for all of creation. The cosmic detail provided is not intended for prediction but to affirm the magnitude of the task set before the people of God.
The canonical context of Mark's gospel, and in fact the broader tradition of the gospel story, must provide the necessary framework that allows the talk of the Second Coming to be firmly rooted in hope. That hope is mentioned in the other lectionary texts for the day. The hope is proclaimed in the hymns we sing in Advent. The call to stay awake and be ready is an exhortation to a life of faithful anticipation rather than a fearful deathwatch. Indeed, the broader understanding of the relationship of God and God's people comes to an incredible focus in the birth of the Child Jesus. God's love of cosmic proportions is made known to us in the form of a child to be touched and held and seen.
So Advent is bigger than all of us. Christmas is bigger than all of us. We stand on the threshold of the season of waiting and preparation, knowing that one time through the celebration is never enough. But every time we live through and worship through these days of Advent, our encounter with the love and hope of God's presence can indeed transform each and every one of us. It may be bigger than us but it includes us. Maybe it is easier to read the last chapter first because you will know your place as that story unfolds, again and again.
Alternative Applications Isaiah 64:1-9. The prayer echoed in the voice of the prophet in Isaiah 64 may provide the refrain of the congregation's prayer for the world: "O that you would tear open the heavens and come down," O Lord. Given the depth of the pastoral prayer in these days, there is little doubt that the sermon itself ought to be a prayer once in a while. While some may choose to allow the sermon form to be that of a prayer, others may choose to describe the congregation's celebration of Advent this year as a prayer, dare we say a lament. Allowing the literary form of the text to inform the sermon would indicate a movement from lament, to confession, to an affirmation of relationship with God, and finally to a passionate conclusion. "We are all your people." Indeed God did open the heavens and come down that night when the Savior was born. Creation still cries. The nights are far from silent. And so come down again, Lord Jesus. Come all the way down to us.
1 Corinthians 1:3-9. The text from Paul in 1 Corinthians suggests the affirmation of the plethora of spiritual gifts present in the community of faith. The approaching season mandates so much talk of giving. Faced with such abundance, many will easily see the needs of so many in our communities as well. Perhaps the pastor would like to stop right at the beginning and affirm that as a community of faith, there is no lack when it comes to God's gifts and the ministry of the Holy Spirit in our midst. The preacher can take the chance to find those holy places of ministry among the laity and affirm them in the context of God's abundant grace. One of my colleagues exhorted our congregation to celebrate those gifts by answering the question "In what way can we see God at work among us?" With the words of Paul, you can hear the refrain, "In every way!"
Mark 13:24-37. For congregations who will celebrate the Lord's Supper, this Sunday in Advent provides the opportunity for stressing the forward-looking aspects of our Communion celebration. We do pretty well at the remembering part. But the clear theme of a kingdom meal, "the foretaste of glory divine," is present in the liturgy as well. If the preacher were to go back and look at a year's worth of Communion sermons, most would likely be about looking back. Here on the First Sunday of Advent, the church gathers to feast and look ahead.
