Sermon for the First Sunday in Advent, Year A (2025)
Written for the Montana Synod
Isaiah 2:1-5; Psalm 122; Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44
Greetings, siblings in Christ, from your faith family in Big Timber. May the grace and peace of our Lord and Savior be with you all on this day and in the time to come.
Happy New Years, friends! This Sunday marks the start of the season of Advent and the beginning of a new church year. For those of you who are interested, this is the beginning of Year A in the three-year church cycle, meaning most of the gospel readings for the year ahead will be from Matthew.
In the world around us, especially in commercial spaces, Advent is a season of anticipation and acquisition. It’s time to get ready for the celebration of Christmas and all that comes with it. In the church world, we are a little out of step with that. Yes, Advent is a season of anticipation, but less about Christmas and more about the promises of God’s judgment and reconciliation. Part of the reason we put the Christmas carols on hold in the church world is because the Advent themes of hope in frustration, faithfulness in division, and refining fire aren’t in sync with the oft glow of light around mother and child in the nativity scene.
When that thematic separation feels too great, we tend to default to Christmas mode because it feels easier. The judgment themes and the tensions of Advent can be frightening. The idea of still waiting for our long-expected Savior is frustrating and confusing for some. Advent as Christmas-lite seems easier.
When we skip ahead, however, we miss important things about the waiting and the preparation. Not only that, but we specifically cannot skip ahead because Jesus told us not to. As we do not know the day or the hour, we are called to be in a state of preparation, not a state of already celebrating or a position of despair because we think it will never happen. What it means to be a follower of Jesus and to be one who trusts His word is to be one who keeps moving in hopeful expectation, no matter how long it takes.
Here is a story to illustrate what I mean:
In November 2007, I was waiting for my husband to return home from a deployment to Iraq with the Army. He had left in March. We missed many milestones in the nine months apart, including our first wedding anniversary. Our communication had been intermittent. We, along with all the other families in our company, were anticipating the reunion.
Some of you will know this and some of you are about to learn that military returns are not always smooth affairs. Due to security and moving parts in theatre, the dates of returns are not set until very close when they will happen. Many things can cause delays. They may leave the war zone, but be held up in another location for hours or days.
Once we kind of had a date. I began to clean the house. I ordered new sheets. I refreshed the pantry with foods I knew my husband liked and stocked the fridge with beverages. I got a haircut. I filled his truck with gas and got the oil changed.
Finally, on the day before, we were given an estimated return around midday. The next morning it changed to late afternoon. In the waiting, I vacuumed again and did another random load of laundry. I made cookies and talked on the phone with a friend.
In the mid-afternoon, we were told that it would be closer to 10 pm. I made another batch of cookies and ran to the grocery store for some additional food I thought might be good the next day.
At 9 pm, we were told that it would probably be around 2 am.
Families with kids were trying to decide whether to put the kids to bed or just let them stay up. Partners without kids, like me, continued to stretch out our activities- cleaning pantries, playing with pets, vacuuming long forgotten corners of the house. We filled our time with things that needed doing, but that we just usually didn’t get to.
Finally, at 1:30 am, most of us gathered at the Armory building on the post to wait together. A movie was on for the kids. We talked and laughed together. We held each other up.
At 3 am, the reunion came.
When you see pictures or videos of reunions, they’re often in public or maybe they’re surprises. The majority of reunions, however, do happen on bases, posts, or installations. With family members who had filled their weeks, days, and hours of waiting with all kinds of activity.
This is the kind of waiting that Jesus is talking about. This is the waiting of Advent.
This is waiting for one who is loved and who loves.
When Isaiah speaks of the day of the Lord, when the people shall learn war no more…
When the psalmist says, “For the sake of my kindred | and companions, pray for your well-being”...
When Paul says to the Roman Christians, “For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers”...
These are statements of anticipation and hope, the kind of anticipation and action-filled waiting that Jesus expected of his followers- then and now.
While we may feel like the promised time of return continues to be delayed, there are still many things we can do. We are called and equipped for tasks of love and service to all those people around us.
The alertness to which we have been called, by Christ himself, is not a flurry of activity right before the event, like cleaning the house before guests. It is on-going, paced responsiveness to the grace that has always been with us, is in us now, and will sustain us in the life to come. This is Advent. And we are Advent people.
At the start of our own new year, in a season of waiting, out of step with the culture around us, we know that a reunion is coming. With the help of the Spirit, we remain awake and active.
And we know the love that will meet us has been with us all along. Amen.
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