The First Sunday of Advent

Year C

The Days are Surely Coming


Readings: Jeremiah 33:14-18; Psalm 25:1-9; 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13; Luke 21:25-36

 

When I was a small child living in an inner city rectory, an elderly priest stayed with us for a time as he worked on the committee writing the 1962 draft of the Book of Common Prayer.  For a celibate priest who had spent much of his life in the Cowley Fathers in Bracebridge, Father Palmer was very patient with the then four rectory children, especially my younger brother, Patrick who was always underfoot. 

 

As Christmas approached, my mother moved into high gear, baking goodies for our large family and the myriad of guests that Christmas always brought with it.  There were times when her patience simply gave way.  I remember such a day.  We were fighting and whining about everything.  My mother tried to get us to go outside to play, but we were having none of it. 

 

Father Palmer came in on the conversation.  “I don’t think they should go outside,” he said to my mother.  I saw some people cleaning out a chimney up the street, and you know what that means!” 

 

We were suddenly very interested.  “What? What does it mean?” 

 

“Well!” he said.  “You know what day is coming, don’t you?  It means they are getting things ready for Santa Claus.  You simply can’t go snooping around while they are getting ready for Christmas.”

 

Suddenly everything changed.  We all wanted to go out.  We all begged to go out.  “Couldn’t they go out for just a little while if they promise not to snoop?” my mother asked, a little of the pleading coming through. 

 

“Well, alright, but just this once, and you stay in the yard,” he warned us.  And off we went, filled with anticipation about the day that was surely coming. 

 

“The days are surely coming!” Jeremiah says to the people of Israel.  It is warning, anticipation, and expectation all rolled into one.   They are a people living in dark times.  They live without hope.  They face the threat of invasion by the Babylonian armies. 

 

They need justice.  They need righteousness.  They need transformation.  Jeremiah calls to the people.  He knows that for a kingdom of justice and righteousness to emerge from the chaos, things will have to change.  He knows that things need to change if God’s kingdom is to be ushered in.  He knows the pain that comes with change.  He knows too that the day will surely come. 

 

“The days are surely coming!” says Paul to the Thessalonians.  “The kingdom is here and now.  You are being called,” he tells them, “to support the faith of your brothers and sisters in Christ.  You are being called to new places, to new ministries, to be new people.” 

 

He calls them to a ministry that supports the faith of every Christian.  He calls them to support one another in love.  He calls them to be a Christian family, a warm and accepting community of faith.  He knows that it is love which strengthens and sustains us when our efforts appear to bear little fruit.  He knows that love must reach beyond our own community to all people.  He knows that it is love which will usher in the kingdom.  That calls for a transformation of each one of them, and indeed, a transformation of the whole of society.  And he knows that the day will surely come. 

 

“The days are surely coming!” says Luke to the early Christians.  “There are signs of the coming,” he gives them dire warnings.  “There are signs in the sun and the moon.  There are signs of chaos and storm.  Be on guard! Be ready!”  There are signs around them of decay and destruction.  They have been witness to cataclysmic events in their lives, events which were predicted to them in Scripture.  They have seen the destruction of their city, Jerusalem, its total and utter destruction.  They have seen the temple where they worship destroyed.  But the fact that the destruction was prophesied helps them to keep their faith in God even in the midst of such terror.  Luke knows that transformation is necessary if they are to usher in God’s kingdom.  He knows that the day will surely come. 

 

And so I tell you, the days are surely coming! I tell you as a warning, because I see signs all around me.  I see signs of our human neglect of this planet we call earth.  Indeed, it is difficult to miss them.  They come as storms and chaotic weather patterns.  They come as warnings of new diseases and pandemics.  They come as harsh realities in our world, AIDS, abuse, terrorism, violence! They all come as dire warnings of what is to be.  They call us to transformational change.  They call out to us to live our lives with a renewed sense of justice and righteousness.  They call us as Christians to live creatively and responsibly in response to God’s call to be God’s people.  They call us to recognize that the day is surely coming. 

 

The days are surely coming! I tell you in anticipation.  I tell you of others signs, signs that God is breaking in on us, signs that the kingdom is nearer than we could ever imagine.  I see people who gather in faith Sunday by Sunday.  I see the sense of community as they pass the peace.  I see their generosity and commitment to the church.  I see them nourishing their faith with bread and wine.  I see them growing in love and passion for Christ.  I see them reaching out to others with compassion and love.  And I recognize that the day is surely coming. 

 

I gathered this past week with women clergy from all over Canada.  We celebrated, we sang, we danced, we drummed, we shared our collective wisdom.  Because for thirty years now the Anglican Church of Canada has ordained women.  And we serve faithfully as parish priests, as chaplains, as bishops, as theologians, all across this nation.  Yet most of us knew our call to ordination long before the Church was ready to ordain us.  Our collective stories are often painful, even now.  There are stories of rejection, of loneliness, of hurt and abuse.  But there are stories that beyond a doubt usher in the kingdom of God. 

 

Patricia Reed ordained along with five other women in three ordinations across Canada on November 30th, thirty years ago, celebrated the Eucharist with us.  She is a tiny woman in her eighties, vibrant and alive.  In one of our sharing circles she reflected back on those early days with a sense of joy.  Yet others reminded us that she and the other women, pioneers in ministry, were treated badly.  There were objections at their ordinations.  They were spit upon.  They were rejected.  They were sent to places in their Dioceses that no one else would serve.  But the Holy Spirit prevailed.  They had powerful ministries that opened up the way for the rest of us. 

 

The day is surely coming when this Church of ours will be an inclusive and justice making place.  It will be a place of justice and righteousness.  It will be a place where men and women, people of every race and culture, rich and poor, young and old, gay and lesbian, will be allowed to be everything that God intends them to be.  And we in the kingdom of God will shout, Hallelujah! The day has surely come!