Waiting For Godot?
Sermon
Sermons On The Second Readings
For Sundays In Advent, Christmas, And Epiphany
As we embark on another Advent Adventure we pause to remind ourselves that this sacred season holds a twofold emphasis. Not only do we journey towards Christ's nativity but also we project our thoughts towards his second advent when the final curtain will be lowered on the world as we now know it. This twofold emphasis is underscored in Saint Paul's greeting to his friends in today's text.
In Samuel Beckett's tragicomedy, Waiting for Godot, we are introduced to Vladimir and Estragon who are waiting for the arrival of the mysterious Godot, who continually sends word that he will appear but who never does. They encounter Lucky and Posso, they discuss their misery and their lot in life, they even consider suicide, and yet they wait. Often perceived as being tramps, Vladimir and Estragon are a pair of human beings who do not know why they were put on the earth: they make the tenuous assumption that there must be some point to their existence, and they look to Godot for enlightenment. Unfortunately their waiting is futile, Godot never arrives, and we are left with the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps MacBeth was correct in his assessment, "Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
The Christian faith exposes the folly of such morbid pessimism when it joyfully declares that the God who made this world of ours will come, because he has come to us in Christ and in the interim our waiting is not an exercise in futility.
The first Sunday in this Advent season introduces us to the God who was, who is, and who is to come, and challenges us to consider his astonishing provision for a life that is fulfilling and replete with meaning. No more hopeless waiting for Godot!
Our God is the God who will not let us off! Without question God deals with us in grace. "Grace to you and peace" (v. 3) "I give thanks ... because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus" (v. 4).
But always remember that although grace is free, it is not cheap. It comes to us because Another loved us enough to travel to a cross to bring us back to the circle of God's love. How calamitous, how appalling our need must have been! In the Old Testament lesson for today, God will not let us off: God makes us face the unvarnished fact of our downright sinfulness and the emptiness of our lives before his grace reached us. Isaiah's picture is not a pretty one. He says: "Our deeds are like a filthy cloth." One Hebrew scholar suggests that the word filthy connotes a cloth "putrefied by the excretions of a leper's sores." Not a very complimentary evaluation of man, even the best among us, but an authentic one since the Evaluator is God himself. Small wonder, then, that John Newton wrote: "Amazing grace how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." But it is amazing grace, and because it is, our text tells us that we will be "blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ." Blameless. Does the word lay hold on us? The word, as W. E. Vine points out, "implies not merely acquittal, but the absence of even a charge or accusation against us." That, dear Christian, is good news. That is amazing, astonishing, astounding grace: love without limit! What kind of response on our part can begin to carry with it the measure of gratitude that rises to the surface when we stand before such unspeakable affection? Perhaps all of us put it best when we sing: "Were the whole realm of nature mine, it were a tribute far too small; love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all."
Our God is also the God who will not let us down! He is the one who has "enriched us in him [Christ] ... in knowledge of every kind." Knowledge: it is an elusive word, but it is a biblical word, another word of grace. An Arabic aphorism observes:
He that knows not and knows not that he knows not, is a fool. Shun him.
He that knows not and knows that he knows not, is simple. Teach him.
He that knows and knows not that he knows is asleep. Waken him.
He that knows and knows that he knows is wise. Follow him.
Surely Christians, "enriched by Christ in knowledge of every kind," are numbered among those who know, and who are convinced that what they do know contains the answer to life's most bewildering questions. What convictions do Christians hold?
They know assuredly that God will never let them down; therefore, all things that come to them in life will work together for good and will be used by God to contribute to their personal enrichment. They are aware that Christ has "never promised them a rose garden." They are not immune from the heartaches, trials, and adversities that are part of the human situation. But they are also convinced that whatever comes to them approaches on a mission designed to be used as an opportunity for growth and advancement in the faith. With God's help they have learned the profound lesson E. Stanley Jones so often taught that "when life throws a dagger one can grasp it by the blade and be cut or maimed by it, or one can grasp it by the handle and use it." The Christ-enriched person knows that every experience of life is an occasion to prove Christ's faithfulness. Each event is usable. The Eternal Architect never makes a mistake! He merits our unconditional trust. He will never let us down.
Because they know God will never let them down, Christians are convinced that none of them -- not the least among them -- need ever fear that he or she is living a life without purpose.
Unfortunately this happy conviction is not shared by those who have dismissed the claim of Christ upon their lives. Someone has suggested an imaginary conversation between inhabitants of Mars and residents of earth. After communication has been established, the Martians describe themselves as "beings inhabiting a planet which is the home of creatures who cannot agree what they are, or where they came from, or where they are going, but they are on their way." In response, earth flashes back its message -- "Same here." This imaginary conversation raises the biggest questions of human experience: What are we? Where did we come from? Where are we going? When these questions are not honestly faced, all of life becomes trivial and meaningless, and rushes toward disaster both for individuals and for society.
The Christian faith offers convincing answers to these foundational inquries. The enriched Christian sees in one small, yet classic, event in the life of Christ, persuasive answers to these issues. In Saint John, chapter 13, we have the record of Jesus washing his disciple's feet: "Jesus ... knowing that he had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel."
There it is -- the splendor of knowing! Knowing that he came from God, and that his destiny was God, Jesus could bow and assume the lowliest duties of service to men. Here we find the Christian response to life's profoundest questions. Dear Christian friends, who are we? We are children of the Eternal Father; we came from him. What is our destiny? We will one day return to him who made us: the One who will never let us down.
Not only is our Advent Lord the One who will not let us off and who will never let us down, but also he is the One who will never let us go!
Our text reminds us: "He will also strengthen us to the end." Indeed his love will never let us go. Please, dear Christian, lay hold on this promise; keep it ever before you. Let it sustain you when difficult hours assault you. There comes to all of us the day when we must face the end. It may be the end of a relationship that we felt contained the answer to our dreams. Or the end of a job or profession we thought would last indefinitely. Or perhaps the end of vibrant health, or the most final experience: the end of life itself. At such a time, where do we go, what do we do? As one has put it: "What do we do when there is nothing left to do?" At this juncture Christ's promise becomes more than words -- it becomes our most dependable source of strength. "He will strengthen us to the end."
Does our faith sometimes waver? Of course it does, frail vessels that we are. But so did the ancient Joseph waver in his confidence when he found himself down in that pit where his jealous brothers imprisoned him before they sold him into Egyptian slavery. Do you think he saw much of God's hand down in that dreadful pit? Do you suppose he could see himself actually on his way to the office of Prime Minister of the Egyptian Empire? Of course not. It was much later that he was able to put the right construction on his seemingly impossible situation.
Do you think that George Matheson, stricken by blindness, and his fiancee turning away and walking out of his life because of his handicap, could see the marvelous handiwork of an overruling God in that terrible darkness into which he was plunged? Later, in spite of his limitations, he rose to become the most honored preacher of his generation. Do you fancy for a moment that he could foresee the end effect of those priceless lines that were to be wrung from the anguish of his soul?
O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee:
I give thee back the life I owe, That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain, and feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
O cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust, life's glory dead, and from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.
With this lingering confidence we begin another Advent Season. Be certain, fellow traveler, you and I are not futilely "waiting for Godot." Our present and future lie safely in the hands of our Advent Lord, who never lets us off, never lets us down, and will never let us go! Indeed, "he will strengthen us to the end" -- yes, from this moment to the end ... and all the way between!
In Samuel Beckett's tragicomedy, Waiting for Godot, we are introduced to Vladimir and Estragon who are waiting for the arrival of the mysterious Godot, who continually sends word that he will appear but who never does. They encounter Lucky and Posso, they discuss their misery and their lot in life, they even consider suicide, and yet they wait. Often perceived as being tramps, Vladimir and Estragon are a pair of human beings who do not know why they were put on the earth: they make the tenuous assumption that there must be some point to their existence, and they look to Godot for enlightenment. Unfortunately their waiting is futile, Godot never arrives, and we are left with the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps MacBeth was correct in his assessment, "Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."
The Christian faith exposes the folly of such morbid pessimism when it joyfully declares that the God who made this world of ours will come, because he has come to us in Christ and in the interim our waiting is not an exercise in futility.
The first Sunday in this Advent season introduces us to the God who was, who is, and who is to come, and challenges us to consider his astonishing provision for a life that is fulfilling and replete with meaning. No more hopeless waiting for Godot!
Our God is the God who will not let us off! Without question God deals with us in grace. "Grace to you and peace" (v. 3) "I give thanks ... because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus" (v. 4).
But always remember that although grace is free, it is not cheap. It comes to us because Another loved us enough to travel to a cross to bring us back to the circle of God's love. How calamitous, how appalling our need must have been! In the Old Testament lesson for today, God will not let us off: God makes us face the unvarnished fact of our downright sinfulness and the emptiness of our lives before his grace reached us. Isaiah's picture is not a pretty one. He says: "Our deeds are like a filthy cloth." One Hebrew scholar suggests that the word filthy connotes a cloth "putrefied by the excretions of a leper's sores." Not a very complimentary evaluation of man, even the best among us, but an authentic one since the Evaluator is God himself. Small wonder, then, that John Newton wrote: "Amazing grace how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." But it is amazing grace, and because it is, our text tells us that we will be "blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ." Blameless. Does the word lay hold on us? The word, as W. E. Vine points out, "implies not merely acquittal, but the absence of even a charge or accusation against us." That, dear Christian, is good news. That is amazing, astonishing, astounding grace: love without limit! What kind of response on our part can begin to carry with it the measure of gratitude that rises to the surface when we stand before such unspeakable affection? Perhaps all of us put it best when we sing: "Were the whole realm of nature mine, it were a tribute far too small; love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all."
Our God is also the God who will not let us down! He is the one who has "enriched us in him [Christ] ... in knowledge of every kind." Knowledge: it is an elusive word, but it is a biblical word, another word of grace. An Arabic aphorism observes:
He that knows not and knows not that he knows not, is a fool. Shun him.
He that knows not and knows that he knows not, is simple. Teach him.
He that knows and knows not that he knows is asleep. Waken him.
He that knows and knows that he knows is wise. Follow him.
Surely Christians, "enriched by Christ in knowledge of every kind," are numbered among those who know, and who are convinced that what they do know contains the answer to life's most bewildering questions. What convictions do Christians hold?
They know assuredly that God will never let them down; therefore, all things that come to them in life will work together for good and will be used by God to contribute to their personal enrichment. They are aware that Christ has "never promised them a rose garden." They are not immune from the heartaches, trials, and adversities that are part of the human situation. But they are also convinced that whatever comes to them approaches on a mission designed to be used as an opportunity for growth and advancement in the faith. With God's help they have learned the profound lesson E. Stanley Jones so often taught that "when life throws a dagger one can grasp it by the blade and be cut or maimed by it, or one can grasp it by the handle and use it." The Christ-enriched person knows that every experience of life is an occasion to prove Christ's faithfulness. Each event is usable. The Eternal Architect never makes a mistake! He merits our unconditional trust. He will never let us down.
Because they know God will never let them down, Christians are convinced that none of them -- not the least among them -- need ever fear that he or she is living a life without purpose.
Unfortunately this happy conviction is not shared by those who have dismissed the claim of Christ upon their lives. Someone has suggested an imaginary conversation between inhabitants of Mars and residents of earth. After communication has been established, the Martians describe themselves as "beings inhabiting a planet which is the home of creatures who cannot agree what they are, or where they came from, or where they are going, but they are on their way." In response, earth flashes back its message -- "Same here." This imaginary conversation raises the biggest questions of human experience: What are we? Where did we come from? Where are we going? When these questions are not honestly faced, all of life becomes trivial and meaningless, and rushes toward disaster both for individuals and for society.
The Christian faith offers convincing answers to these foundational inquries. The enriched Christian sees in one small, yet classic, event in the life of Christ, persuasive answers to these issues. In Saint John, chapter 13, we have the record of Jesus washing his disciple's feet: "Jesus ... knowing that he had come from God and was going to God, rose from supper, laid aside his garments, and girded himself with a towel."
There it is -- the splendor of knowing! Knowing that he came from God, and that his destiny was God, Jesus could bow and assume the lowliest duties of service to men. Here we find the Christian response to life's profoundest questions. Dear Christian friends, who are we? We are children of the Eternal Father; we came from him. What is our destiny? We will one day return to him who made us: the One who will never let us down.
Not only is our Advent Lord the One who will not let us off and who will never let us down, but also he is the One who will never let us go!
Our text reminds us: "He will also strengthen us to the end." Indeed his love will never let us go. Please, dear Christian, lay hold on this promise; keep it ever before you. Let it sustain you when difficult hours assault you. There comes to all of us the day when we must face the end. It may be the end of a relationship that we felt contained the answer to our dreams. Or the end of a job or profession we thought would last indefinitely. Or perhaps the end of vibrant health, or the most final experience: the end of life itself. At such a time, where do we go, what do we do? As one has put it: "What do we do when there is nothing left to do?" At this juncture Christ's promise becomes more than words -- it becomes our most dependable source of strength. "He will strengthen us to the end."
Does our faith sometimes waver? Of course it does, frail vessels that we are. But so did the ancient Joseph waver in his confidence when he found himself down in that pit where his jealous brothers imprisoned him before they sold him into Egyptian slavery. Do you think he saw much of God's hand down in that dreadful pit? Do you suppose he could see himself actually on his way to the office of Prime Minister of the Egyptian Empire? Of course not. It was much later that he was able to put the right construction on his seemingly impossible situation.
Do you think that George Matheson, stricken by blindness, and his fiancee turning away and walking out of his life because of his handicap, could see the marvelous handiwork of an overruling God in that terrible darkness into which he was plunged? Later, in spite of his limitations, he rose to become the most honored preacher of his generation. Do you fancy for a moment that he could foresee the end effect of those priceless lines that were to be wrung from the anguish of his soul?
O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee:
I give thee back the life I owe, That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain, and feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.
O cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust, life's glory dead, and from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.
With this lingering confidence we begin another Advent Season. Be certain, fellow traveler, you and I are not futilely "waiting for Godot." Our present and future lie safely in the hands of our Advent Lord, who never lets us off, never lets us down, and will never let us go! Indeed, "he will strengthen us to the end" -- yes, from this moment to the end ... and all the way between!
