Advent 3A
Matthew 24:36-44
Isaiah 35:1-10
James 5:7-10
The Rev. Dr. Kathy Kelly
I’ve been cheating. More on that confession in a moment.
Today is Gaudete Sunday or Rose Sunday. Gaudete is a Latin word which means rejoice and, in medieval times was the first word of the chant that was used for the processional on this Sunday. Gaudete started the first line, "Gaudete in Domino semper” - "Rejoice in the Lord always.”
The pink candle on the Advent wreathe is lit and we talk about joy, one of those four Advent topics which the candles represent. Rose Sunday is thus called because of the old tradition of pulling out pink hangings and vestments and it was simply a lighter color of purple to represent a break from all the fasting and stern solemnity that was practiced. Many Episcopalian churches still do all that. Some only do it in Lent.
Our way of remembering that old tradition is to light a pink candle and talk about joy. And that is good.
This year some of us wore pink and we used this Sunday as a gimmick to collect underwear for the needy. Having some fun in that way does seem a break from the solemn and somewhat dark ways of our readings and worship services during Advent.
Years ago, when I first became an Episcopalian, the church I then attended really did keep the old Advent tradition of not decorating for Christmas until Christmas Eve. Or at least until the afternoon of the 4th Sunday of Advent. This tradition is one of keeping Advent by waiting for Christmas. And it’s hard to do. But I really benefitted spiritually from practicing this devotion of waiting. No tree. No stockings. No wreathes. No red and green. And, well, limited amounts of Christmas music. Especially that secular stuff about Santa and snow and romance.
Then I moved to another, smaller town and that church was even more strict about this tradition. There was a joke in that town that you could tell who the Episcopalians were in town not because they spoke to each other in the liquor store - but because they didn’t start decorating for Christmas until everybody else was taking down their trees. It sort of made me feel special to keep this devotion.
And then, about 10 years later, Love Actually came out, that zany British film that takes place in London in the last week before Christmas. With scenes all over London decorated to the hilt, I realized then that the Brits clearly don’t practice that old tradition anymore, so why should I?
You might think that’s a good enough reason to do away altogether with this holding off season of Advent but this is the only time of year we address this waiting thing. Advent is a lesson in waiting, of patience and anticipation.
And this is a really important part of our faith.
Especially in our times of instant gratification and busy-ness. Recognizing our need to learn patience and anticipation is imperative. These four Sundays are the only time of the year when we focus in this way on our longing for God. Advent helps us to reflect on just what it means to live in this in-between time of Emmanuel - God with us - then, now and always.
So, we hold off on Christmas decorations and music and too much merriment at church, as best we can, in order to feel that tension, in order to grow from the holding off season.
And some of us even still wait to decorate our homes. I usually do. But not this year. I’ve been cheating. That’s my confession.
I put up my tree and wreath early and finished decorating the first week of Advent! I’ve finished my shopping and I’ve wrapped all of my presents. And I’ve been streaming Christmas music and watching Christmas movies!
I’ve caved. But it’s O.K.
And, to be honest, I’m not really missing out on the devotion of holding-off. Not in my heart. Not in my practice of my faith.
Since I’m allowing myself some folly this year, yesterday, I watched again for the first time since Kate was little, The Polar Express movie (based on the classic children’s book by Chris Van Allsburg). Tom Hanks plays several of the characters and they do that really cool thing of animation on top of real actors, what ever that’s called. That was such a new technology when I watched it with Kate 15 years ago that I got lost in the art of the animation and missed some of the meaning of the story. And for some reason I had not read the book. But now I get it.
It’s a story about doubt. And it’s a story about compassion.
We all face doubt in our lives. We doubt each other, we doubt ourselves and we doubt God. We doubt in the existence of God and we doubt in the loving actions of God. Some doubt the virgin birth, the resurrection, some even doubt the crucifixion. And, as you probably have heard, at least in the Episcopal faith, we believe that doubt can be a good thing. It’s natural and admitting our doubts and struggling a bit with doubt is an opportunity to grow.
But doubting each other, doubting ourselves, I think that sort of doubt hurts God’s heart.
The lessons during Advent this year have been a bit strange so far. We are in Year A and so we will spend the year with gospel readings mostly from Matthew. And Matthew tells the story a bit differently from Luke. Here’s an opportunity for us to study those differences and, if we can live into the tension, we can gain some new realization of the gospel story which perhaps we’ve never thought of.
Last week, on the 2nd Sunday of Advent, Matthew moved us back (chronologically speaking) to the expectation of Jesus’ coming in ministry in connection with John the Baptist (3:1-12). This week we stay with John the Baptist for Advent 3, but he is now in prison asking if Jesus is the one about whom he prophesied in our reading from last week.
Don’t let this seeming contradiction throw you. There is a lesson in it.
For Matthew, it is not that Jesus’ first coming was historical and his second coming will be eschatological: that is, apocalyptic. The Christ event is an event which means that the church is already living and always will live in this already/not yet way of Jesus. We do not live completely bereft and lost in the world while we wait for the return of the Lord. We live in the now. And the Lord lives here with us through the co-workings with the Creator and the Holy Spirit.
This story about John the Baptist in Matthew has two distinct parts. In the first section, John sends his disciples to ask if Jesus is the one who is coming and Jesus responds (Matthew 11:2-6). In the second section, John’s disciples have departed and Jesus discusses the importance of John with the crowd around him (verses 7-19).
John’s question is an Advent question: “Are you the one who is coming or should we expect another?” (Matthew 11:3). Matthew captures the tension of that already-not-yet experience by having John in prison ask whether Jesus, who is out there doing good works - now - is the one to come (eschatological)! In Advent we paradoxically wait for the one who has already come.
Jesus’ answer to John’s doubt is to send John’s disciples to report back to John what they have seen and heard. John cannot see and hear what Jesus is up to because he is in prison. He needs his friends to see and hear for him.
“Seeing and hearing” is a very important Advent lesson.
How do we see and hear Christ at work in our now times, in our neighborhood, in our community? How does Christ heal, offer life, and overcome oppression in today’s world? Where do we see and hear the love of the incarnate God at work all around us?
When the boy in the story decides to get on board The Polar Express and join the ride to the North Pole, he is given a choice and timidly decides to join the journey. He is hiding his doubt all along the journey. He doubts that any of the magic of this season is real. His friends also doubt. The girl doubts herself. The younger boy, Billy seems to doubt everything, even life itself.
But they also each practice compassion in their friendships. They help each other out along the journey. They help each other find lost things. They help each other form identity as compassionate believers. They hold hands in the dark. They work side by side.
Then our hero boy is given a silver jingle bell from the reins of the reindeer. It is a bell that can only be heard by those who believe. And he is the only person in the crowd that night at the North Pole who can not hear the bells. Until he does some quick soul searching and makes a statement of faith. When he says he believes, three times, suddenly he does hear the bell. And his heart is filled with joy.
I believe.
I believe.
I believe.
And he kept that bell for the rest of his life. And he could still hear it ring for the rest of his life. Even when those around him could no longer hear it.
Each of us has a place in our souls that is a prison for us. And each of us has a bell. We live with both in the in-between times, all of our lives. At times when we are in our prisons it is difficult to hear and see what the Lord is up to and so we need to call on our friends.
John went from the baptizer, the Prophet of the Most High to the dungeon of blindness and deafness. He was, after all, just a human.
We are called to be disciples. And the disciples in this story are the messengers. When the chief messenger is down and out these disciples bring good news and reassurance of what the Lord is up to - now.
“the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”
And then, what happens? John gets not only reminded of the good news of the good works of the Lord, he is reminded of his very identity.
“A prophet? More than a prophet. This is the one who was sent before me to prepare the way.”
And John, in this reassurance must have gone to his death in peace.
How then can we be better messengers? How can we be the eyes and ears of the here-and-now workings of the Lord to those who are lost in their prisons of doubt and confusion?
That’s the compassionate part.
When the bells of the Feast of the Incarnation are ringing loudly in our ears, when we feel that we see clearly, that is the time to go and reassure others. When we are in prison is the time to ask for help, to call on our friends in Christ. We need each other, we need to remind each other of who we are as disciples of Christ.
We are the beloved.
We are the bell ringers.
So, go and see. Go and hear.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.