Entering the Fullness of Time

Sermon for the First Sunday of Advent

Saint Peter's | Arlington, VA

Isaiah 64:1-9

Mark 13:24-37

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Happy New Year!

Advent time is now upon us—and it brings a new liturgical year in the Church.

In one way or another, the global Christian church participates in some common liturgical rhythm. But more specifically: this is also a time of newness for our own local community. Advent brings opportunity to begin anew in our shared life of prayer and fellowship together.

Much like the outset of any new beginning, there is certainly an element of anticipation in the air. Or, more practically, trees in the parking lot and wreaths on the doors!

But just as we settle into anticipation, we are confronted rather abruptly:

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,   so that the mountains would quake at your presence—as when fire kindles brushwood   and the fire causes water to boil—to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!”

This doom from the Prophet Isaiah’s doom is merely a sampling, though... Because our Gospel lesson this morning really hits it home when Jesus says...

“In those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory…Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

Our readings evidently have something different in mind. There is little room for cozying up in a reflective posture to ponder who we wish to be and leisurely set some resolutions for the days aheads of us, which we may or may not keep—or even intend to…

With the aid of the lectionary, what our Biblical writers wish to draw our attention to is The END (Capital “T,” capital “E,” “N,” “D”). What this week’s collect refers to as the “the last day” we might hear more colloquially as “The End of the World.”

Advent time is now upon us—and our readings each week will only become increasingly more and more apocalyptic.

There is surely no shortage of dichotomies and dissonance in this season. Even from its very outset, we anticipate and begin preparing for a conclusion. We are reminded to “wait” and to “keep watch;” to eagerly look for the “light” while we sit in “darkness; “to prepare ourselves for what is “already” and what is “not yet.” And, somehow or another, to slow down—while also keeping up pace with the busiest shopping season of the year and fulfilling commercial expectations.

Making sense of all this can feel like something of a ping-pong match. If it leaves you scratching your head, know we are not alone here: the early centuries of the Christian Church navigated a very similar tension.

In Rome, the weeks before the feast of Christmas was considered especially festive. It was after all a time to joyfully celebrate the coming of the Christ child. In contrast to this “latin warmth,” as it came to be known, the practices of the Orthodox tradition were much more penitential.

Advent was a time of repentance in preparation for Christ’s second coming. The principal concerns in their observance is quite neatly summed up in “The Four Last Things,” which are a more historic version of the four themes appointed for each Sunday in Advent: Death, Judgement, Heaven, Hell.

So, for those wishing to observe a “Holy Advent,” which is it? Should we disavow Christmas carols until December 25th, or keep the tunes on a 24/7 loop? Just what does it look like to “get right with the Lord”?

With all of this dissonance reverberating in my mind, I was especially struck by words shared at yesterday’s funeral service. In fondly remembering her mother, Polly Hussain’s daughter, Ayesha, said this, which I paraphrase: “My mother was a woman of opposites.”

She shared many examples of how Polly managed to hold many seemingly dissonance things together—like a tenacious ferocity and a gentle tenderness. Then, Ayesha added: “She was less interested in the contradictions between things, and more with the similarities.”

Throughout her life, Polly discovered a way of holding together what seemingly did not belong. Her life demonstrated what it looks like to search for a point of integration—and to live in the tension. And this is precisely what we are drawn into during this season.

Advent time is now upon us—and we are invited to into “the fullness of time.”

Within the mystery of God’s time, what to us may seem completely irreconcilable finds a place of resolution. There is space enough for the whole of our lives.

We need not decide between an either/or decision. Rather, in Advent, we are provided opportunity to lean into a mysterious both/and. All things are held together in the fulness of time, and we desperately need each seemingly-dissonant practice.

Because we have sinned by what we have done and by what we have left undone, repentance is necessary and appropriate...

Because far-too-often our world drops bombs on innocent children and leaves families separated, yearning for a new way of being is appropriate and necessary...

And because the world feels bleak and desperate for something new, giving ourselves to a practice of steadfast hope and extravagant joy is necessary and appropriate…

So, on this First Sunday of Advent, if perhaps whatever need you have outweighs what you have to give, know that it does not matter. What shapes a “Holy Advent” for each one of us is shaped by the particularities of our lives.

Whether what you carry into this season is an exuberant joy or a great sorrow, an abiding hope or crushing grief, a deep hunger or fearful anxiety… or perhaps even an armful of each and every one of these things… Whatever it may be: bring it all as an offering to God.

Emmanuel—“God with us”—will surely meet you in this present and in all that is ahead.

Advent time is now upon us—we need only enter in. Amen.