By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, RectorA good many years ago I sat by the Christmas tree one morning opening gifts. They were given to me in a particular order and I was intrigued by the deliberate nature of this process, so unusual for the regular random package opening. But here they came in a particular order. In the first couple box there were several short sleeve shirts. This struck me as somewhat odd, since it was in fact Winter, and a cold one at that. But, a gift is a gift and perhaps the bargain table was just too much to resist. The next box, much lighter than even the shirt box contained a pair of sandals. Again, an odd choice for winter, but they were nice and one does get sandals cheaper when the snow is on the ground. I was beginning to get tired of the bargain hunting theme. There were several of these boxes containing seasonally inappropriate gifts when the last box was handed to me. It was the smallest and lightest of all. When I opened the box I was stunned to see two airline tickets to St. Croix. Most other people would have caught on to this pattern long before the final box, but since this thinking was essentially out of the box for me I was totally taken by surprise. The friend giving me the gifts was absolutely delighted by my stupification. I remember having at least the presence of mind to ask, "When are we going?" He said with an evil grin, "Tomorrow." The shock I had felt before was nothing compared to the shock of that news. "Tomorrow?" Now, having already established that I'm slow on the uptake, you'll understand that for me, it wasn't really processing that "tomorrow" actually meant the next day. But, that is precisely what occurred and it was a wonderful trip.
In the weeks after the trip, after the pictures were developed (yes, this story took place before digital cameras) I enjoyed the memories of the trip, but also realized that something was missing. For some reason this trip was unlike others, and I felt a little off balance by it. It wasn't until sometime later that I realized the missing piece for me had to do with the planning. Since this trip was a surprise, I had no part in putting it together. As a result, the weeks of anticipation were not there. There are three ways we enjoy a trip -- the planning of it, the going on it, and the memories of it. Having missed the planning phase, one of the important parts of the full process was missing.
Through that experience, I learned to enjoy consciously and intentionally the gift of anticipation. We often hear of "immediate gratification" as though that were the most desirable thing. I believe gratification is richer and deeper when is takes a while to get there and anticipation is the slow, savory cooking of the actual event, a fine form of gratification in its own right.
We begin this season of Advent today as part of the anticipation of Christmas. Street decorations, store window displays, Rockerfeller Center tree and 24 hour Christmas music not withstanding, it is not Christmas yet. To dive into Christmas without a season of anticipation is to rob us of the deep satisfaction of proper planning for a season which begins on December 25, and not ends.
Our liturgical colors of deep blues and purples are ancient colors of royalty as we await the coming of the sovereign God. The lighting of the Advent candles mark the weeks of our anticipation. Slowly and patiently adding decorations help build up the expectation. Placing wrapped presents not to be opened tease children of all ages with curiousity that is rewarded in time.
The lessons we read are scriptural forms of anticipation. Isaiah anticipates a day when Israel was to be a beacon to the nations of justice and mercy for all people. A nation living in harmony with God and each other, a day when the weapons of destruction would be beat into plowshares, and they would forget the methods of war since war itself would become obsolete. In his letter to the Romans Paul anticipates the second coming of Christ to be close at hand. Yet despite how close it is, he warns the Romans reading his letters that waiting is no excuse to be foolish and lazy. He writes to the Romans that they should wait for Jesus honorably and wear an armor of light, a beautiful image of hope rising like the sun on the day they've long waited for.
Matthew, in this Gospel tempers the expectation with the words about not knowing when that day or hour is. Keep awake, wait, anticipate. The quality of anticipation is a life style that looks forward to when life and the world will be more and more in harmony with God and that our spirits live alongside each other in love and peace. We still long for the day when our weapons of war will have peaceful uses and our energy and technology will be used to generate better lives, not more destructive ones.
I love the season of Advent for it's energizing anticipation. I love the way the church looks and am very grateful to the altar guild for their patient and loving preparation as the season unfolds. I am grateful to the choir for their extra work as they anticipate the special music of this season. I am grateful to all those in each part of the life of this church who are drawn into the experience of expecting the Christ child in this most wonderful manger. All our preparations are a glimpse into and a metaphor of the life of expectation that we as Christians are called to live. Even our architecture calls us into expectation. Church buildings are generally build in a way that orients the altar on the east end of the structure. It's done that way so that all the people are facing east, and St. George's also falls into this style. Christianity is one of the many religions whose people face east to pray as a way of watching the sun rise and with it the hope of a new day. The earliest Christians look for Jesus to come again from the east. Just as there is that magical moment called the darkest part of the night before the dawn, so we in our faith hold fast even through the darkest parts of our lives in anticipation of the dawn of God's love and grace in our lives.
Advent is not just these four weeks. Advent is a way of life. It's not only a countdown to the celebration of the Nativity, an exhausted dash to the finish line. It is the place in our souls that waits for God to appear in ways desperately needed and utterly unexpected. It is an openness to God unlike anything else in our lives. It is the same faith expressed by Isaiah and Paul and so many others through time that God has always been with us, is with us, and will come to us and all the same time.
Next Saturday Chris Carroll will be ordained a priest. Now she is in the period of Advent looking forward to how God will work in her life in that ministry. After many years of preparation and expectation the moment will come and it will be in one sense a conclusion to a process, but in a very real sense it is only the beginning of a new life yet to be seen. As we begin families, new jobs, new schooling, our lives are one in Advent, full of expectation and hope as to how God will be present in those moments creating new life and wonder full of healing grace. And even in moments of pain, grief and sorrow we are people of Advent looking to the sun of God’s righteousness and hope rising in the darkest moments of our lives.
There is not a day or a moment in which the promise of God is not there to unfold in new ways bringing us to new places in our lives and in our spirits. We do not know the times or the days, but our faith keeps us on the edge of our seats knowing that God will come. Amen.
© 2007 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ
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