Dec 03, 2023 |
Sunday Sermon
| The Rev. Jeanne LeinbachSunday Sermon
Today is the beginning of a new church year: the first
Sunday of Advent. Of course, during this season of Advent, we are awaiting the
birth of our Savior, Jesus coming into this world to make tangible for us God’s
mercy and love. Also, this season is a reminder to us that we are always
awaiting Christ’s second coming, “the Son of Man coming in clouds with great
power and glory.” Jesus Christ will return marking the completion, the fruition
of the Kingdom of God on earth. The readings for this first Sunday of Advent
focus on the second coming, a day of judgment. Christ will “…gather his
elect…from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.” We don’t know what this
day will look like, what will happen, or what will come next. We don’t know the
when, though some have made predictions.
Back in the 1800’s, the Millerites, followers of a farmer named William Miller, decided that the world would end on April 23, 1843, based somehow on an interpretation of Scripture. Many gave away their possessions. When the day arrived and Jesus didn’t, the group disbanded. More recently, scientist Richard Noone decided that May 5, 2000 would be the day that the alignment of the planets and the thickness of the Antarctic ice mass would lead to global icy destruction. In 2006, minister Ronald Weinland, self-described as the end-time prophet of God, proclaimed the second coming would happen by the end of 2008. We don’t know the-when and that is precisely how it is laid out in Scripture. Jesus is not telling us when. Rather, we are being encouraged to live as though Christ’s return is imminent.
When the Gospels were written, people did expect Christ to return any day. We just heard in the Gospel of Mark, “Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.” Now, it’s been 2,000 years. It’s easy to see how most of us have moved on from this prospect of completion – not in any way a part our everyday awareness. But, what if it was? What if we lived our everyday lives expecting Christ’s imminent return?
In the passage from Isaiah this morning, the people are crying out to God, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence.” Do you hear the desire for God in these words? This Scripture passage is set in the time after the Israelites have returned from being in exile in Babylonia, but while the temple in Jerusalem still lies in ruins. They are trying to cope with the devastation. They cry out to God, “Please come.” The passage concludes with the people acknowledging their dependence on God. “O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” In other words, we know we need you. This passage points to the power in weakness because when we acknowledge our dependence on God, our need for God, we open ourselves to God inspiring our lives; we open ourselves to God’s desire for our lives.
I love the metaphor of the clay and the potter. I read an article about pottery explaining the time and patience it takes to craft a piece of pottery (https://en.vogue.me/culture/therapeutic-pottery/). A ceramicist covered in the article says, “It’s taught me a lot about letting go a bit and not expecting perfection.” God, our potter, has infinite patience with our imperfections, actively waiting for us, always ready to inspire us as we are able to open are hearts to God. In this season of Advent, we are encouraged to be actively waiting for God, full of expectation for the gift of God living among us.
Just as God has infinite patience, so we need to be patient in crafting our relationship with God through prayer. “Leo Tolstoy tells the story of three hermits who lived on an island. Their prayer [to God] of intimacy and love was simple like they were simple: ‘We are three; you are three; have mercy on us. Amen.’ Miracles sometimes happened when they prayed in this way. The bishop, however, hearing about the hermits, decided that they needed guidance in proper prayer, and so he went to their small island. After instructing the monks, the bishop set sail for the mainland, pleased to have enlightened the souls of such simple men. Suddenly, off the stern of the ship he saw a huge ball of light skimming across the ocean. It got closer and closer until he could see that it was the three hermits running on top of the water. Once on board the ship they said to the bishop, ‘We are sorry, but we have forgotten some of your teaching. Would you please instruct us again?’ The bishop shook his head and replied meekly, ‘Forget everything I have taught you and continue to pray in your old way’” (Richard J. Foster, Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, New York; HarperCollins Publishers, 1992, p. 80).
There is no right or wrong way to pray and there are no quick paths to developing our relationship with God. We need to give time to our prayer life. Advent lends itself to contemplative prayer, sitting quietly and simply being present to God. Desiring God is a part of our nature. But, we have to make the space to recognize our connection to the Divine. When sitting quietly before God, we are acknowledging our dependence on God, our need for God. We are desiring God to be our Savior, our source of comfort, mercy and inspiration – our perfect Love.
We don’t know when the Second Coming will happen, what it will look like, or what will come next. But, we know it will be Good News. As we heard in the Gospel passage, “From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near.” If we live thinking that the Second Coming might happen at any time, might we be inspired to focus on developing our relationship with God, so that we come to that day without regret for what we squandered – time, talent, treasure, relationships, priorities – but rather we come to that day with hearts filled with joy for the love coming among us. After all, in that moment, it will be crystal clear what actually matters in life. Amen.
Back in the 1800’s, the Millerites, followers of a farmer named William Miller, decided that the world would end on April 23, 1843, based somehow on an interpretation of Scripture. Many gave away their possessions. When the day arrived and Jesus didn’t, the group disbanded. More recently, scientist Richard Noone decided that May 5, 2000 would be the day that the alignment of the planets and the thickness of the Antarctic ice mass would lead to global icy destruction. In 2006, minister Ronald Weinland, self-described as the end-time prophet of God, proclaimed the second coming would happen by the end of 2008. We don’t know the-when and that is precisely how it is laid out in Scripture. Jesus is not telling us when. Rather, we are being encouraged to live as though Christ’s return is imminent.
When the Gospels were written, people did expect Christ to return any day. We just heard in the Gospel of Mark, “Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.” Now, it’s been 2,000 years. It’s easy to see how most of us have moved on from this prospect of completion – not in any way a part our everyday awareness. But, what if it was? What if we lived our everyday lives expecting Christ’s imminent return?
In the passage from Isaiah this morning, the people are crying out to God, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence.” Do you hear the desire for God in these words? This Scripture passage is set in the time after the Israelites have returned from being in exile in Babylonia, but while the temple in Jerusalem still lies in ruins. They are trying to cope with the devastation. They cry out to God, “Please come.” The passage concludes with the people acknowledging their dependence on God. “O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.” In other words, we know we need you. This passage points to the power in weakness because when we acknowledge our dependence on God, our need for God, we open ourselves to God inspiring our lives; we open ourselves to God’s desire for our lives.
I love the metaphor of the clay and the potter. I read an article about pottery explaining the time and patience it takes to craft a piece of pottery (https://en.vogue.me/culture/therapeutic-pottery/). A ceramicist covered in the article says, “It’s taught me a lot about letting go a bit and not expecting perfection.” God, our potter, has infinite patience with our imperfections, actively waiting for us, always ready to inspire us as we are able to open are hearts to God. In this season of Advent, we are encouraged to be actively waiting for God, full of expectation for the gift of God living among us.
Just as God has infinite patience, so we need to be patient in crafting our relationship with God through prayer. “Leo Tolstoy tells the story of three hermits who lived on an island. Their prayer [to God] of intimacy and love was simple like they were simple: ‘We are three; you are three; have mercy on us. Amen.’ Miracles sometimes happened when they prayed in this way. The bishop, however, hearing about the hermits, decided that they needed guidance in proper prayer, and so he went to their small island. After instructing the monks, the bishop set sail for the mainland, pleased to have enlightened the souls of such simple men. Suddenly, off the stern of the ship he saw a huge ball of light skimming across the ocean. It got closer and closer until he could see that it was the three hermits running on top of the water. Once on board the ship they said to the bishop, ‘We are sorry, but we have forgotten some of your teaching. Would you please instruct us again?’ The bishop shook his head and replied meekly, ‘Forget everything I have taught you and continue to pray in your old way’” (Richard J. Foster, Prayer: Finding the Heart’s True Home, New York; HarperCollins Publishers, 1992, p. 80).
There is no right or wrong way to pray and there are no quick paths to developing our relationship with God. We need to give time to our prayer life. Advent lends itself to contemplative prayer, sitting quietly and simply being present to God. Desiring God is a part of our nature. But, we have to make the space to recognize our connection to the Divine. When sitting quietly before God, we are acknowledging our dependence on God, our need for God. We are desiring God to be our Savior, our source of comfort, mercy and inspiration – our perfect Love.
We don’t know when the Second Coming will happen, what it will look like, or what will come next. But, we know it will be Good News. As we heard in the Gospel passage, “From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near.” If we live thinking that the Second Coming might happen at any time, might we be inspired to focus on developing our relationship with God, so that we come to that day without regret for what we squandered – time, talent, treasure, relationships, priorities – but rather we come to that day with hearts filled with joy for the love coming among us. After all, in that moment, it will be crystal clear what actually matters in life. Amen.