SERMON
28 November 2004 (Advent 1)
Readings: Isaiah
2: 1-5
Psalm
122
Romans
13: 9-14
Matthew 24: 36-44
May
the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in
your sight, O God. Amen.
Wake
up! God is coming!
The time is almost here! Advent is here, bringing with it a sense of
urgency. We really don’t have much time left in which to get our act together.
God is just around the corner. As the magnet on our fridge says, ‘Look busy,
Jesus is coming’.
This
is the message that comes loudly and clearly from today’s readings. ‘Keep
awake, therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming!’ says
Matthew (Mt 24:42). ‘It is now the moment for you to wake from sleep’, says
Paul in the Letter to the Romans. (Romans 13:11)
All
this urgency sits a little oddly 2000 years down the track. In one sense, God is
already here and has been for quite some time now. In another, it’s hard to
maintain a sense of imminent arrival for 2,000 years. Overall, therefore, I find
myself unable to get too involved in all this pressure. It may be middle age
striking me rather than a deep spiritual insight, but it all seems a bit
artificial. After all, if we haven’t worked out by now that we should always
be attentive to our spiritual lives, then we haven’t been listening to the
constant message of the Scriptures.
There
is also a threat implicit in the Matthew reading – an threat that is somewhat
disconcerting. It almost seems to imply that we should be good because God will
catch us out if we aren’t
- a school room sort of image where the students muck up until the
teacher comes. “Ssh, God’s coming! You’ll get a detention if she catches
you!”
Is
that really why we seek to lead godly lives – because of what will happen to
us if we don’t? Is goodness an option we reluctantly take because of the
consequences of behaving badly? The motive for seeking to live in harmony with
God is surely more positive than that. It is to do with the intrinsic merit and
joy of living in that way, even if we don’t quite manage to get it right.
One
of this week’s lovely moments for me was as I walked across the lawns between
the office and the vestry door and I was suddenly struck by the humour of my
continuing sinfulness. Prompted by a stray question from a friend, I had been
reflecting on godliness. Suddenly I had this wonderful image of what it must be
like for God watching us all trying to get it right! And, of course, failing
time after time, as we sinful humans do. Like one of those cartoons where Wiley
Coyote tries to catch the Roadrunner. Time
after time! So near and yet so far!
However,
despite difficulties of these texts for those of us who live two millennia away
from the birth of Jesus, there is within them a wonderful sense of the
surprising, utterly unexpected intrusion of God into the everyday. Whatever we
do, however we construct the world, whatever our expectations might be, God is
God and will shake us, confound us, and challenge us. God is so much more than
we can conceive that all our attempts to systematise, to understand, to contain,
crumble in front of a single flower, or the experience of love.
God
speaks and acts when God wants to speak and act. No amount of orderliness can
mask the wildness and unpredictability of God’s words and actions. Nor does
God necessarily choose the channels we expect. Not all divine messengers come
equipped with the give-away wings, haloes and golden aura of the classic angel.
Please
don’t interpret what I am saying as a critique of
spiritual discipline. There is much to be gained from an orderly
spiritual life – a regular discipline of prayer, study, worship, spiritual
direction. As one of the two seasons of repentance in our church year, Advent is
a good time to be intentional in our spiritual life and to seek guidance. A
prayer habit set in place over the weeks of Advent can be the basis of a
continuing practice throughout the year, bringing much fruit.
But
we should never expect to keep God to such order. We may set aside 6.30 to
6.45am for a prayer time, but God will almost certainly have things to say at
different times and will not necessarily choose the messengers we will
recognise. Indeed, the messengers themselves may not have any idea that God has
used them in that way.
I
am occasionally told by someone that something I have said, perhaps years
before, came at exactly the right moment and opened them up to God’s presence.
More often than not I have been blissfully unaware of saying anything of any
depth whatsoever and have possibly even forgotten that I said it. My guess is
that many of you have had similar experiences. We have, however briefly and
however unconsciously, acted as God’s messengers – as the angel that
intrudes.
Of
course, God breaks into our lives in many forms, not just by means of other
members of the community of faith. We can be brought up short by music,
literature, art. We can be deeply challenged by poverty, drug addiction,
illness. World events, family joy or tragedy can all lead us to look beyond our
normal frameworks and seek a deeper understanding of ultimate truth.
The
challenge of Advent is to be open to God, wherever whenever God chooses to be
present to us. We know that God will be in unexpected places, speaking
disturbing, confronting words – can we hear them? Can we go there too? Can we
set aside our preconceptions, our fears, our systems and listen to the wind of
the Spirit?
Perhaps
God is calling us to see the humour of our failures, the guilt of our successes,
the pain of our victories and the joy of our defeats.
Sarah
Macneil
November
2004