Mary's "Yes!"

 Mary doesn't get much press in Protestant circles. We only preach on her... oh, maybe once a year, if that. She is arguably, however, the person who is most responsible for our salvation (other than Jesus himself, of course)! This sermon by Rev. Alecia Schroedel-Deuble takes a closer look at the interruption that changed her life -- and ours -- forever.

Are you ready for Christmas? Neither am I! I’d prefer that we pushed it back a month; maybe hold it on Jan 25 this year. I need more time! But ready or not, here it comes! Sometimes Christmas feels like an interruption in our lives. The tasks of Christmas intrude on the routine of our days. How do we fit it all in? The shopping, the wrapping, the baking, the decorating—How do we make space for it all? But it’s inevitable, Christmas morning will dawn upon us whether we’re ready or not! Christmas comes like a woman who is nine months’ pregnant waits for her child to be born. There’s no predicting what day the baby will actually arrive. It’s interesting to see our modern culture’s trend of trying to time pregnancies so that they don’t radically interrupt our routines. I always snicker at due dates. Babies being who they are, birth is one of the last things that a woman can precisely plan.

Today we read the familiar story about Mary’s interruption (Luke 1:26-38). Many times when artists illustrate this story, they picture Mary in her room going about her daily business—maybe she’s spinning, maybe she’s reading. Either way, the angel Gabriel interrupts what she is doing to bring her good tidings. I’m not sure that if we were in Mary’s position we would call Gabriel’s tiding “good.” We might call them confusing tidings, or curious tidings, or perplexing tidings. These tidings are like mail that was delivered to the wrong address—the messenger must be mistaken! I wonder if Mary thought Gabriel must be mistaken. Was he at the right house??? After all, she was planning to be married, she had expectations about how her life would play out, and the idea of a child wasn’t in the plans yet. First comes love, then comes marriage, THEN comes the baby carriage. There were terrible consequences for a young woman who was found pregnant BEFORE the wedding—there would be scandal, there would be gossip, she would be shunned, shamed, and cast aside. There would be no social safety net for her. Yet Mary responded to these strange tidings with grace and humility: “Let it be with me according to your will.” Mary is taken to be a model of Christian life. She was someone who heard and recognized God’s call and submitted to it. She went with God’s flow. She recognized that she was being interrupted by God and she embraced it.

To tell the truth, we’re not quite sure what to do with Mary! For us Protestants, this Advent Sunday is the one Sunday of the year that she gets center stage. We pull her out of her tissue paper wrappings and set her in our Nativity scenes. She sits a little way back from the manger looking down adoringly at the Christ Child—staring at him as if he dropped straight out of the heavens into the bed of hay. Then when Christmas is over, we put her back in her wrappings and back into the closet for another year. No, we’re not quite sure what to do with Mary. She’s invisible to us except at Christmas. So often she is seen as a passive and submissive participant in this drama of salvation. Mary is somewhat a mystery to us. We have questions. Why did God choose her? The angel of God interrupted her one day and asked her to be the mother of the Son of God. In Greek she is called the Theotokos—a name that means “the God bearer.” What a powerful title! She carries God in her womb. Imagine that! The creature is the carrier of the Creator! God asked her to be the bearer of salvation—the vessel of Good News.

And notice that the angel ASKED her—he didn’t TELL her—the angel ASKED her. Mary wasn’t passive; God gave her a choice. This wasn’t forced upon her. The birth of the Savior didn’t happen without her consent. Mary had a voice in God’s proposed plan for a Savior. She could have said “No.” or “Not now,” or “Could you wait until after I’m married?” There was a lot at stake for a young girl. No, Mary was far from passive. She had a voice in this: and amazingly, she said “Yes.” Some say that her “Yes” was the “beginning of our salvation.” It is a YES in capital letters that echoes thru the ages. It is the YES that changed the world. It is the YES that reset the clocks of history. (Even our calendars begin again in the year Christ was born.) It was the YES that opened the door to God’s kingdom on earth.

Mary is a mystery—both ordinary and extraordinary. Other religious traditions have elevated her to the Queen of heaven for saying “Yes” to God’s will. Catholics have a much more elevated place for Mary in their tradition. As the mother of God, she is the Queen of heaven. In Mexico, this month celebrates the feast and mystery of The Lady of Guadalupe—the spiritual patron of Mexico. In the Eastern Orthodox tradition Mary is called the Platytera, which roughly translates to “She who contains He who cannot be contained.” What a marvelous and mysterious title; and all because she said YES! I’m not sure I would have responded the same if I was in her sandals. Would I have said, “Let it be with me…” I doubt it. I would probably say, “Excuse me? Do you have the right person?” or “No, thank you, I’d really rather not. I have other plans.” The fact is, most days, I’m not particularly interested in having my life interrupted by God. God’s plans rarely seem to coincide with my own timing. Sure, we pray “Thy will be done,” but at a time that’s convenient for me.

Interruptions…There are many things that interrupt our days and our plans. The weather, bad timing, the kids, utility outages, the car breaks down, and so many other things that we could name ruin our plans. Interruptions remind us how much we are NOT in control of things. I make my plans for the day. I make my list of what I’d like to accomplish with this day I’ve been given. But rarely do my plans get completed. More often than not, they are interrupted. I consider a day a success if I manage to get 2 things on my list completed. A colleague of mine has a little sign on his desk that says “Interruptions ARE the job.” Isn’t that the way for all of us? Life is full of mysterious interruptions like birth, accident, illness and death; and this year the huge interruption in so many of our lives is this COVID pandemic which has interrupted holiday plans, travel plans, work life, and social life. It has taken so much from us. We come to the awareness that we are not fully in charge of our destiny. We are in control of very little in life. We learn this lesson repeatedly throughout life. Startling news, whether joyful or sorrowful, prompts us to also say with Mary, “How can this be?” The events that make us say, “How can this be?” shape and challenge our faith! They remind us that much is hidden from us. I’m sure the folks at Pleasant Hill church are saying “How can this be?” over the recent death of their pastor. The surprise of “How can this be?” whether it’s in a birth or in a death, just might be a signal of the nearness of God. God is nearer to us in these times of life’s interruptions than at other times in life, whether we realize God’s presence or not.

In humility and trust, Mary offered hospitality to God in her own body, in her own womb. The God who cannot be put into any of our boxes; the God who cannot be contained within the confines of our churches, chose to take on our human limits and confine himself inside of Mary’s womb. She gave God the shelter of her own body. It is a mystery! As the Eastern Orthodox say: She who contains, he who cannot be contained! Because of the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Christ, the Holy One continues to break into our lives, continuing to interrupt us and to bring creation closer to completion and salvation in the already-but-not-yet reign of God. Mary’s YES was a turning point in history. With her YES God starts a revolution! Mary sings of her amazement over this mystery. Mary rejoices in God her savior and the favor he has given her. She sings her amazement in a hymn we call the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55). Mary knows that with this marvelous conception, the world is about to turn!

The "Show Me" Prophet

 "Prepare the way!" cries John the Baptist. But he won't take our word for it when we tell him that we're all ready. No, he wants proof! This sermon by Rev. Alecia Schroedel-Deuble examines his call in more detail. What does that mean for us?

My Mom was a great hostess. She knew how to prepare for any social event, club meeting or party at our house. She was good at welcoming guests and making them feel comfortable in our home. Now, I grew up in household of 7 siblings. You can imagine the clutter that 7 kids can make! There were 7 of us messing up the house and dropping our clothes, toys and schoolwork everywhere. So when Mom started to seriously pick up the clutter and put everything away, our first question was, “Who’s coming over???” We knew mom was preparing for visitors. She knew how to prepare the way for Bridge Club. But my mother’s preparations were nothing compared to what I witnessed when President Clinton made an unexpected stop at a Native American Art Museum that I was visiting in Phoenix. One of the things that I found almost more fascinating than meeting the President was watching the Secret Service advance team spring into action to Prepare the way for the President – to secure the place and make sure it was safe. They were fun to watch! One guy with a coiled listening device coming out of his ear was ticking off on his fingers the list of things he had checked –  the electrical system, the air conditioning, the security doors and windows, the helicopters circling overhead, the local police – all to prepare for the President’s arrival.

Here in December we are all getting ready for Christmas – let me count the ways! Gifts, wrapping, meal preparation, cookies, cards, clean the house, decorate, outdoor lights, indoor lights, put the tree up, clean the house, shopping… the list is overwhelming! God has been getting ready for Christmas too. God has been getting everything and everyone ready for generations and generations for the right moment to send his Son. And now God sends in his “advance man” John the Baptist, to prepare the way of the Lord – “to make straight his paths” the scripture says – to prepare a people for the Messiah. Just like those secret-service men came in advance of President Clinton to make everything ready, so too, John the Baptist comes to make everything ready for the appearance of the Messiah. But he isn’t checking the doors and the windows. He’s checking our hearts.

Isaiah’s predicts the coming of this advance man. Isaiah says he is the voice of one crying: “In the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his path.” Isaiah’s prophecy was a word of comfort and consolation to those in exile in Babylon far from home. In the ancient world, in advance of kings or generals coming into a city, people would literally be sent out to clear the wilderness road and remove obstacles that were in the road; like fallen tree branches, clearing away large rocks and stones, sweeping it clean and smoothing out the rough spots for the chariots. Build a highway, says Isaiah, for your exile is coming to an end and you are about to return home. John is the voice crying out in the wilderness – he’s not just any voice, but a voice calling in the wilderness. John is a paradox. He was born into the privilege of the priestly class, but he dresses humbly like a hippie. He’s not in the city in the Temple where you would expect a priestly prophet. He’s out in the desert – in the wilderness – and he’s calling out, Prepare the way of the Lord. “Raise up the valleys and flatten out the mountains. Level the uneven ground and make smooth the rough terrain!” The wilderness road he wants us to clear is the road to our hearts. Remove the obstacles that make the way impassable. Lift off the branches of ill-will, level the mountains of prejudice or resentment or bitterness, clear off the stones of hard-heartedness (and maybe even hard-headedness!!), sweep the debris of fear out of the way.

You know, sometimes we NEED to have company come for a visit just so we can clean the house! Ever notice how we straighten things up when we know someone’s coming over? John tells us the Messiah is coming and we better straighten things up! 20th century British mystic, Evelyn Underhill wrote a little reflection titled “The House of the Soul” She notes that the spiritual life mirrors our home life. A house reflects the soul of its inhabitants; it is a window to the soul. A comfortable, cozy kitchen reflects a person who is comfortable to be with. A lighted house exudes warmth and cheer. Evelyn writes about the house of the soul and points out its dark spots and light spots, its unexamined storage and over-looked clutter behind closed closet doors, its frayed edges and dust. That’s the kind of heart debris John is calling us to clear away. The preparation that John the Baptist has in mind for us is an inside job. He’s here for deep cleaning – not the outward prep, not the outside trapping. He’s looking for clutter on the soul, like a kitchen table that’s piled high with bills and paperwork. We have infinite ways of hiding our soul’s messes and clutter. The message of John the Baptist is “Company’s coming and we’ve got work to do!”

But John doesn’t just deliver the message and continue of his way. He’s like a building inspector who wants proof the repairs have been made and the work has been done. He won’t accept that we just slap a coat of paint over the flaws to disguise them. He wants proof! He could be from Missouri because he’s the “Show me” prophet. “Show me the proof that changes have been made! Show me the fruit of repentance!” I think that some people came out to get baptized in order to hedge their bets. It’s as if they were superstitious. If you get baptized, they thought, you’ll automatically be OK in God’s eyes. But no, it doesn’t work that way. You gotta show proof! “Bear fruit unto repentance” the gospel says. That means: show me the fruit! Remember that little lady who was on the Wendy’s commercials years ago? Show me the Beef! John says, Show me the fruit! Where are the widows who have been aided? Where are the orphans who have been cared for? How about the strangers in the land? Have they been taken care of? Show me the fruit! Like the building inspector who wants proof that repairs have been made and the work has been done before he’ll issue his permit, John says, show me the proof!

Here's a good example. One summer, as I was driving through the farm roads, I noticed how lush the soybean plants looked that year. They were tall, they were lush with leaves, they looked very healthy. I mentioned how good they looked to a farmer friend of mine and he replied, “Yes they look good but there are no beans.” Good looking soybean plants; but no fruit! Don’t think just because you have grown up in a Christian household, with devout Christian parents that you automatically get a ticket into the Kingdom. If that’s all that was needed, then God could turn stones into disciples. No, the proof that one is a disciple is in the mercy that is shown others, the generosity and kindness with which our fellows are treated. It’s in our eagerness to serve, the concern for the poor, and the extravagant welcome to the stranger. There’s a hymn that says, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love”—John wants to know where the love is? He wants to see it.

And It IS God’s love that sends us advance notice to prepare. We aren’t surprised by a pop quiz. The Messiah doesn’t show up like the Health Inspector on a surprise inspection of your kitchen hoping to catch you off-guard. No, God has given us every opportunity to turn around. We’ve had advance notice that the inspection is coming. We’ve been given the quiz questions to study in advance. God is not looking to trip us up. Even John’s name tells us of God’s loving mercy. John’s name means “God is Gracious” Our gracious God gives us every opportunity to prepare the way to our hearts. John is inviting us to repent, turn-around, come back. It’s is God’s love that is calling us to turn and come back home. Turn, repent and be at peace in your soul. Let’s take him up on his invitation in these weeks before Christmas to clear the pathways to our hearts. Let’s clear the obstacles in our lives that bar God’s way to us. Let’s prepare to receive Jesus Christ, the Messiah. O come, O come, Emmanuel!

What's in a Name?

As we move through Advent, we tell the stories of how the birth of the Messiah came about. The gospel of Luke not only tells us about the birth of the Messiah, but about the birth of John the Baptist, too! It turns out that the story of John's birth predicts the start of something really big! This sermon by Rev. Alecia Schroedel-Deuble takes a closer look at that story.

Stories are important. Whether they are family stories, church stories, or stories about our country, stories are important. They are important because they are the places where memories live. They are the words that hold the keys to our identity and meaning in the great scheme of things. They tell us who we are and where we came from. Stories are so important that that NPR—National Public Radio created an ongoing project called STORYCORPS. Its mission is to preserve and share humanity’s stories in order to build connections between people and create a more just and compassionate world. Through sharing stories of everyday people, they seek to remind us of our shared humanity, to strengthen and build the connections between people, to teach the value of listening, and to weave into the fabric of our culture the understanding that everyone’s story matters. At the same time, they are creating an invaluable archive for future generations. When we lose our stories, we lose a little bit of our identity. We lose some of our history and heritage. Don’t you sometimes wish you could call up a deceased grandparent, or aunt, or mom and pop and ask about some of the things that happened in your family’s past? I know there are times I wish a could call my mom and ask about her my grandparents. There are stories that are lost to my family because no one is around that can share them any longer. And how about the stories that tell us who we are as church? I know Nashville UCC has lost quite a few elders this past year. I hope their stories about what Nashville UCC meant to them have been shared in the congregation. The stories of the founding of our country tell us who we are as a people and what our values are. That’s why American history is taught in schools; to pass on that knowledge to the next generation. I even wonder if one of the reasons it has been so painful to not gather for Thanksgiving or Christmas this year is the fact that we didn’t get the chance to once again share our family stories around the table.

The stories of our faith are important also to help form us in our faith; and not just our Christian faith but also our connections to our Jewish ancestors and prophets. That’s why we hear the Christmas stories again each year. Their meaning deepens for us each year. Knowing the “when and where” of Jesus is essential for understanding him. And that’s where Luke starts his story—during the rule of King Herod in the time of Augustus Caesar. It doesn’t mean much to us, but it spoke volumes to the folks Luke was writing to. It’s like when we talk about “The Good Old Days,” we know what that means. We nod knowingly of the days when candy cost a penny, a ticket to the movies was 25 cents, and folks didn’t lock the doors to their homes. Or when someone mentions the mid 60’s, many of us know that was a topsy-turvy time of the Vietnam War, college protests, Kent State shootings, Civil Rights marches, Hippies, Nixon and so much more. I dare say folks in the future will know what it means to set an event in the year 2020. Likewise, Luke’s audience would have known about the time of Herod. It was a time when the people were under the oppressive reign of Rome and Augustus Caesar. They were ruled by the iron-fisted and ruthless King Herod. The name of Herod conjured up fearful memories of a time of political intrigue and threats to life. Herod was hated. He was hated for his taxes, for sponsoring pagan cities, for replacing High Priests with his minions and for his ruthless killing. His lust for power was so great that not only did he kill his enemies—he even killed his own sons and his wife and other family members when he suspected them of plotting against him. This was the kind of world John the Baptist and Jesus were born into.

Next, Luke introduces us not to Mary and Joseph, but to Mary’s elderly cousins, Zechariah and Elizabeth, who represent the older generation, our connection to Israel and the Old Testament, and Jesus’ connection to his past. Zechariah and Elizabeth have interesting names, and their names are part of the message of Christmas. Zechariah’s name in Hebrew translates as “God remembers.” Elizabeth’s name comes from the Hebrew that means, “God keeps promises” which also means God remembers. There is a long history in the Old Testament of remembering covenant promises God has made with humanity. In Genesis, in the flood story, God promises Noah and all humanity, “I will remember the covenant between you and me and every living thing—floodwaters will never again destroy all creatures.” God made covenant promises to Abraham and Sarah that they would be the parents of many nations. God made a covenant promise with King David that someone from David’s line would always sit on David’s throne. Elizabeth reminds us just by her name that God will keep these promises. There are many Psalms and prayers that remind God to remember us, and to remember promises to God’s servants. Jewish Rabbi and scholar Amy-Jill Levine writes that when we feel the absence of God, when we think there is no hope, we call out to our God to remember, because we remember. And we can do that because we know that the covenants are permanent and God keeps his promises.

Zechariah and Elizabeth are both from priestly families. We are told they are righteous; they have been faithful to God and have kept the law to the best of their ability, but despite all that, they carry the shame of being childless. Elizabeth is barren. Here Luke is again calling on our memories. He’s telling us that we’ve heard this kind of story before. Abraham and Sarah were also elderly people with no children. In the Bible when we hear about an elderly couple suffering from infertility, we know that a miraculous and mysterious conception isn’t far behind. With Zechariah and Elizabeth, we are going to hear the story again; but with a new couple, at a new time, with a new message! Like Abraham, Zechariah is visited by a messenger, the Angel Gabriel, who tells him God has heard his prayers and he and Elizabeth will have a son. The angel appearance terrifies Zechariah! This word “terrified” has the sense of saying Zechariah was all shook up! In our slang we might say that The angel appearance is about to rock Zechariah’s world! In fact, he was dumbstruck by the news! Advent and Christmas should be times that shake us up too. I was thinking about how much the COVID virus has shaken up our routines, and lives and world this year. We have been in a kind of Advent shake-up all year long. We wonder how this will all shake out for us. The names of Zechariah and Elizabeth remind us to keep the faith. God remembers and keeps his promises; and that gives us hope for the future.

Then the angel Gabriel told Zechariah to name his son John, a name which in Hebrew means, “God is Gracious.” God was indeed gracious to Zechariah and Elizabeth by giving them a son in their old age. 9 months later, Elizabeth gave birth to a son. Everyone asked what she was going to name him. Elizabeth said he will be named John. Everyone was shocked by this. It was very unusual because no one in their family line had ever been named John. The tradition was to name a child after a parent or a deceased relative to keep that one’s memory and story alive. Remember, in ancient days they didn’t have photographs or movies or even written journals to remember loved ones. The memories were kept alive by passing along the name in the family. I’m sure many of you were named after someone in your family to keep their name and memory alive. I was named Alecia for my dad’s sister who died when she was only five. My name keeps her name and story alive in our family. The people couldn’t accept what Elizabeth told them, so they asked his father Zechariah what his name would be. Zechariah, who was still dumbstruck, wrote out the words, “His name is John.” This new name is the family signifies that this is a new time; this is a new practice; God is doing something new and starting a new chapter. John will be the forerunner of something completely new that God is doing—sending us his Son Jesus—a name that means the deliverer, the rescuer, the Savior.

It’s interesting to note that near the end of Jesus’ life, he chose how he wanted to be remembered. He didn’t want children to be named after him, he didn’t ask for churches to be named after him. He asked that we share a meal of bread and the cup together to remember him. He asked us to keep his command to love one another. He asked us to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty and clothe the naked in his name. those are how Jesus wants to be remembered and that is how we keep his name and story alive. We do those things in remembrance of him. During this Advent time, we remember, too. We remember the old, old stories and how they have become new again in our lives today through God’s grace. As we watch and wait, may we remember, too; and may our remembrance give birth to a living hope even in the midst of a long, cold winter!

Come Down Here, O God!

This sermon for the first Sunday in Advent was written and preached by Rev. Alecia Schroedel-Deuble. It reminds us that, although Christmas is about jingle bells and bright decorations, Advent is about waiting. We have all been waiting this year. This sermon reminds us what we are waiting for.

Welcome to the first Sunday of Advent. Welcome to the Christmas season! Already my husband John and I sat down in front of the TV, with our pumpkin pie on Friday night to begin the season by watching some of the classic Christmas cartoons. You know, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, and a new one featuring The Minions. That’s how we expect the season to start with happy shows full of Christmas cheer, bright shiny jingling holiday commercials, and Hallmark movies. But in stark contrast, each Advent begins with what’s called “a little apocalypse.” It’s full of frightening images of doom and gloom and destruction, and the second coming of Christ. Our gospel text from Mark (13:24-37) warns of the sun and moon going dark and the stars falling from the heavens. Then Jesus will come again, rolling in on the clouds with overwhelming power and glory!!! Not the kind of images I expect Christmas to start with.

But maybe those are just the right images for us in 2020—a year of disruptions of Biblical proportions! We have endured one crisis after another akin to the biblical 10 plagues of Egypt! Plague—yep, we have that one in spades this year with COVID and how it has disrupted life. The moon turns to blood—we had that—when the fires in the west send thick smoke into the air the sun is blocked out and the moon looks blood red. The winds flattened, the land—yep, had that too. 2020 has seen more and stronger hurricanes than any previous year. Add on top of that general political chaos and you have a year we can’t wait to leave behind! I think the only thing we didn’t experience was a plague of frogs covering the land! So one of our biggest questions in 2020 is “Where is God in all this?” Where are you O God??? With Isaiah I think we raise our fists to the sky, turn our faces toward heaven demand, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1) Get down here O God! Get down here and do those big mighty deeds of power like you used to do. Get down here and do some smiting!!! We hear this furious lament from an impatient prophet who is sick and tired of waiting on God to get down here and fix things now! And we can sure relate to this!

We know what’s gone on in our world this year; and here’s what was going on in Isaiah’s world at the time: Jerusalem; the holy city, had been invaded by the Babylonians. The city was sacked, buildings were burned to the ground; and the holy Temple, the dwelling of God, had been completely destroyed, not a stone left upon a stone. Men, women and children were slaughtered and those who remained alive – the remnant – were marched into exile to Babylon. The nation of Israel was all but destroyed. It’s a scene of shocking violence! It’s hard to imagine a people more devastated. These were Israel’s darkest days. In our reading from Isaiah today (Isaiah 64:1-9), he calls out to God from a foreign land: “God don’t you see what’s happened to us? Tear open the heavens and come down! Make the mountains quake in your presence like you did before! Show our enemies who they’re dealing with. Show them your awesome deeds of power.” The people of Israel also beseech God in Psalm 80: “Hear us O God! Stir up your might! Wake up your power! Restore us! Save us! Where is the God of mighty deeds? Where is the God of the burning bush? …Where is the God who parted the Red Sea? God don’t you see what’s happened to us? Don’t you care about us? “Where are you God?!! Come save us!”

Psychologists tell us that underneath our feelings of anger lie other deeper emotions. Underneath Isaiah’s heated words are feelings of grief and disorientation. Israel was at a turning point in its history. It was grieving for the good old days and longing to go back to a time when life made sense and faith was clear. At the same time, it was waiting for God to come and make something new out of their confusion. They were waiting for God to come and put an end to their oppression and take them back home to the land of Zion – back to where things were normal and secure. What a frustrating spot to be in! We can relate. When you think about it, we are grieving too. We are grieving the way life used to be. We are grieving the ability to move around freely and to gather together. Some of us might be grieving the loss of a loved one and that awkward space of not knowing what to do next. Some are grieving the loss of a job and wonder “What now?” Some might be grieving the aftermath of an illness that has changed life. We are grieving not being able to worship together in the way we are accustomed. Wouldn’t we just love for God to tear open the heavens and come down and heal our confusing and chaotic world? Our anger softens to tears. In our grief we plead and beseech, Lord, come down here and bring us your comfort. Take us back to a more comfortable time and place! Or at least come down and solve our problems so we can move on into a new comfortable time and place. Either way, just come, comfort us, and get us out of this painful spot! But we can’t go back (although we wish we could); and we can’t quite move forward yet (although we wish we would). We’re stuck in this very uncomfortable spot. And that sums up this time we call Advent, this frustrating time of waiting. Just ask any child who is waiting impatiently for Christmas Day to come. For us adults, we feel frantic, like there is not enough time to get everything done we’d like to do before Christmas – it’s moving too fast. But to any child, this month feels like an eternity!

This nerve-wracking time in the middle of things is the place where hope lives. Today we lit the candle of Hope. Hope is a word with motion underneath it. It has a sense of looking forward to something. Hope has a sense of a vision of something better, something different, something more. Hope lives in the turning point. And turning points are not comfortable places to be. We know this in our churches. Everything is so different this year. We can’t gather together, we can’t sing together, we worship via technology. We wish we could just go back to the way things were when the church was filled. But we know that’s not possible and the way forward is not clear yet either. This in-between time of Advent is calling us to have patience—patience with ourselves, patience in the midst of things we can’t control, and even patience with God.

Our impatient prophet Isaiah realizes that he too has to take a deep breath and be patient. “YET”, says Isaiah in the midst of his lament; “YET, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, you are our potter.” Even though life is uncomfortable and frustrating, Isaiah does not turn back. He acknowledges that God is in charge and he puts his trust in God’s hands and waits on God’s timing. That sums up what Advent is all about: an uncomfortable spot between the past and the promised future. Yet It is a season of hope – and hope is in motion. Hope is coming towards us. When we say “Christmas is coming” that phrase has a sense of motion in it. Christmas is coming toward us and will be upon us if we are ready or not! In the same way, the essence of Christmas is hope – hope that God will come down and meet us, hope that God will restore our well-being and restore our relationship with Him and with our brothers and sisters; and hope that God will restore our church. We wait with longing for the future God is shaping. Isaiah encourages us not to turn back, but put our hope in God as we await the birth of the Promised Son – and as we await the birth of our future. By the way, God did tear open the heavens and come down, but not in the powerful way Isaiah envisioned. God opened a hole in the heavens and gently, quietly, on a silent night, he sent us His Son, the promised One, the Savior we had been hoping for – and the world hasn’t been the same since.

This Advent, our Advent candles will call us to wait with patience and perseverance as we prepare to greet the One the prophets proclaim as God’s Promised Son. Have patience, people of faith. Keep awake and wait on the Lord. God is not finished with us yet. With Isaiah, we cry out, “Open the heavens and come down, O God!” Let these words be our Christmas prayer this year. We have railed against heaven and demanded that God come down! We have beseeched God and acknowledged our grief over what we have lost this past year. As we wait in hope now, ready for what will happen next, let us use these words not in anger or in grief, but as an invitation to the Holy One to come and enter our lives and our world with healing, justice and peace. Come, O come, Emmanuel! Let us invite him in as we wait in hope. We are open, O God, and we invite you to open the heavens and come down. And while we wait, may the peace of the Christ child be with you all.