Matthew 24:36-44 & Isaiah 2:1-5
“Awake in Hope”
December 1, 2019 Communion Sunday
There are many things I love about big cities like New York or Boston – there’s so much energy in the air of them, there is always something happening, and there’s great food and cultural attractions to take in within them. Having lived in both Philadelphia and Washington, D.C., I can now say I’m glad I had that experience but I’m also really happy that I don’t live in a big city now. The thing I don’t miss is all the energy that must be devoted to being alert when it comes to your purse or suitcase or even pockets. You quickly learn in a city to walk like you know what you’re doing and not making eye contact.
I can honestly say I can’t remember the last time I walked through Arlington and gave any thought whatsoever to my personal safety. I don’t worry here about someone grabbing my bag and running or brushing too close and trying to take my phone or my keys. I do lock the parsonage, though and always lock my car out of habit because although we don’t have much crime here what we do have is property theft and burglary. The most recent crime here on our church property was the theft in June of the big container chained to the telephone pole outside of Bailey Hall and the food coolers and heaters inside of it that belonged to Meals on Wheels. It was disheartening to think that someone was so desperate as to steal from an organization that only wants to feed homebound older and disabled folks. But that’s the surprise that Jesus is speaking of. When and where the second coming of the Son of Man will happen is something that it seems even Jesus can’t predict. And so we are to live vigilantly but we are also to live in hope.
The state of hopefulness we are called to is one in which we know there is more and in many cases it is our work to unearth and give voice to that hopefulness. We do this by reaching out to those who may be low on their supply of hope, be they sick with a serious illness or in mourning for the loss of a loved one whose face they will never see again. Maybe the place of hopelessness is where someone we know is stuck because of a failed marriage or a child in trouble. The way we share our vigilance is to be spreaders of hope in the God in whom our future rests – to let the hungry and the hurting know that hope is alive. It’s not something to talk about but rather we have to show folks. We need to live hope.
Hope is a huge part of some of the stories we can gain strength from in scripture. Hope is what rests in a future possibility. We need only look at the places of hope found in some of the most unlikely of God’s people. Consider the story of 99 year old Sarah who laughs at the ridiculous thing she has been waiting her whole life for – a baby. There’s Hagar who was sure that she and her son would die of thirst in the desert and instead God saves both of them with water and Hagar knows and proclaims what it means to be seen by God. Hope for us can be found in the story we are working our way up to over this season. Mary will give birth to Jesus and during her time of waiting dares imagine what God has in store for her and her baby. This is the Good News we get to proclaim this Advent and all year round. There is a peace that can be found in the hope of our God. It is living in that state of peace, confident that God is both known and unknown. To be filled with awe is a place we can occupy for all our days.
And if that’s not enough, here we have an end-time warning from Jesus but the thing is, we are to live every day as if it is the end of time because no one – not angels, not Jesus, certainly not any of us knows when or how the end will arrive – only God knows. God knows – we use that phrase a lot when we find ourselves facing mystery. God knows where I left that book I was reading or that shopping list I was making. By including God in our searching for answers and our hoping we acknowledge our need to know and be known by God.
We yearn to put a time and place on God’s appearance but for we who like to know what’s happening this afternoon and next week and next month maybe the vigilance found in an unclear date is better. Since we don’t have a clue as to when this end is to come we are to live fully in this moment. We are to be mindful, vigilant, living today for today’s sake not as atonement for yesterday or as preparation for tomorrow. We are to live as today people, which is easier said than done. Jesus is trying to instill in his followers an appreciation for the here and now, using this day for all the good we can and staying alert to what is happening now – not sleepwalking through life but rather living it as deeply and intentionally as possible, embracing the work and rest and play of this day. Barbara Brown Taylor expressed it by instructing, “Refuse to live yesterday over and over again. Resist the temptation to save your best life for tomorrow…live prepared, live a caught up life.” (The Seeds of Heaven, p. 112) This is a life to be lived in faithfulness and hope where we trust in God’s time and take full advantage of the great gift of living our lives, given by God. That control thing so many of us are hung up on – maybe we could rethink it as finding a way to live in this moment – maybe that’s where the control can be exerted. We can stop hitting the rewind button from playing our hit parade of mistakes, regrets and errors in judgment. We can stop framing the future with “if only’s.”
What is it that fills us with hope right now? I invite you to find a hook to hang your hope on. In beginning our service today by our singing of what is believed to be the oldest song of this season dating back to the 9th century, we raised our voice to speak of the hope we await with Jesus’ arrival. The birth of O Come, O Come Emmanuel was thought to come from the mind of a monk and it was sung for many centuries only in Latin in the daily Mass for the week immediately preceding Christmas day. Through the Dark Ages when very few people could read or write, they were able to hang their hope on what Jesus would usher in. It became much more universally known because of an Anglican priest named John Mason Neale who was so brilliant and was feared for that brilliance and thus sent far from his English home to the Madeira Islands off the coast of Africa where he was able on a 27 pounds per year salary to ultimately start an order of nuns, found an orphanage and a school for girls. Amid all of this work, Neale still found time for much study of scripture and scripture- based books and his translation of this beautiful song, ultimately into 20 different languages, took off and landed in the place where we get to sing it here. The words are full of the hope and promise of the light that is present now and is yet to come. May we begin our Advent journey with abounding hope, awake to all that is possible because of such a hope as is found in this story of new life – the birth of Jesus. Amen.