December 1, 2019
Romans 13.11-14
+ I have
realized this in my life: there are two types of people in the world. There are
morning people. And there are people who are not morning people. I don’t know
what you would call those people.
I don’t
think it comes as surprise to anyone here that I am, very much, a morning
person. I love mornings. If you notice, I am often sending out text messages
and emails fairly early in the morning. I love getting up early in
the morning, and I love getting most of my work done early. I always
have. There is nothing like that moment of waking up to a new day.
It’s always been special to me. And I think I’m not the only one.
Which is
why I love, on this first Sunday of Advent, this theme of waking up. That is
what Advent is all about, after all.
Waking
up.
Waking up
spiritually.
It’s an
important theme for us as Christians.
Jesus tells us in our Gospel reading
for today, it is time for us to “Keep awake.”
Keep awake, we hear him say. Why? Because
something big, something wonderful is about to happen. God is about to draw
close to us. The veil between us and God is going to get very thin. And
holiness will draw close. It is a time
for us to wake from our slumber, from our spiritual sleep, to be awake and
aware.
In the reading from his letter to the Romans this morning, we find
Paul saying to us: “You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you
to wake from sleep.”
We know the time. It is definitely
the moment for us to wake from sleep.
Just a bit later Paul gives us
another wonderful image, “”…the night is
far gone, the day is near. Let us lay aside the works of darkness and put on
the armor of light…”
On this First Sunday of Advent—the
beginning of the Church Year—there is no better image for us that this.
What a
great image for us! We know that feeling. Any time any of us have been through
hardship in our lives, any time we have known the dark night of the soul in our
lives, we know that true joy that comes in the morning after those dark
situations. We know how glorious the light can be in our lives after having
lived in spiritual darkness.
On this
First Sunday of Advent—the beginning of the Church Year—there is no better
image for us that this. This season of Advent is all about realizing that we,
for the most part, are living in that hazy world. Advent is all
about realizing that we are living in that sleepy, fuzzy,
half-world. Advent is all about recognizing that we must put aside
darkness—spiritual darkness, intellectual darkness, personal darkness, anything
that separates us from God—and put on light. For us, this Advent season
is a time for us to look into that place—that future—that’s kind of out of
focus, and to focus ourselves again.
I love
the image that Paul puts forth this morning of “putting on the armor of light.” That
is perfect, and precisely to the point of what this Advent season is all
about. Our job during Advent season is to “put on” the God’s
light.
But how
do we do this? How do we “put on” light, as though it were some
sweatshirt or fancy Sarum blue vestment?
The fact
is, we have already put God’s light on. We put on that light on that
wonderful day we were baptized. We were clothed in God’s light on
that day and we remained clothed in it to this day. This morning, in just a few
moments, little Rory will be putting on God’s light when he is washed in the
waters of baptism.
Still,
even clothed in God’s light as we may be, we still occasionally fail to
recognize this wonderful reality in our lives. This moment of
spiritual agitation and seeking after something more has been called the
“Advent situation” by the great Anglican theologian Reginald Fuller.
The
“Advent situation” is recognizing the reality of our present
situation. We are living now—in this present moment. At
times this present moment does seem almost surreal. This moment is
defined by the trials and frustration and tedium as well as the joys and all
the other range of emotions and feelings that living entails.
But, for
the most part, we don’t feel like it all “fits” for some reason. It
seems like there must be more than just this. Instinctively,
spiritually, we yearn for something more, though we aren’t certain exactly what
that might be. And that might possibly be the worst part of this
situation. We don’t know what it is we want.
The
Advent situation of Reginald Fuller reminds us that yes, this is the
reality. Yes, we are here. Right now. Right here. In this
moment. But we are conditioned by (and for) what comes after
this—the age to come.
Many,
many times you have heard me share a quote from the great Jesuit priest and
paleontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin once said,
“We are
not physical beings having spiritual experiences; we are spirits having a
physical experience.”
Or as I
saw on Facebook recently,
“You’re a
ghost driving a meat-covered skeleton made from stardust, riding on a rock
hurtling through space. Fear nothing.”
Baptism—that
physical event in which we were spiritually clothed with light, in which we “put”
the armor of God’s light—essentially translates us into this Advent situation. And
the Baptismal life—a life in which we are constantly reminded that we are
clothed with Christ—is one in which we realize that are constantly striving
through this physical experience toward our ultimate fulfillment.
We are
spirits having this physical experience.
It is a
wonderful experience, despite all the heartache, despite all the pains, despite
all the losses, despite all the set-backs and frustrations. And this
physical experience is making our spirits stronger.
We should
be fully awake for this wonderful experience our spirits are
having. We should be sharpening our vision as we proceed so that we
can see clearly what was once out of focus.
In this
Advent season, in which we are in that transparent, glass-like world, trying to
break out, let us turn and look and see who it is there in the future.
Let us
look and actually see that that the One who is standing there, the One we have
been looking for all along.
That One
is the One we have been searching for all along. That One is, in
fact, the source of the light with which we have been clothed.
Advent is
here.
Night is
nearly over.
Day is
about dawn.
The One for
whom we are longing and searching is just within reach.
Our
response to this Advent situation is simply a furtive cry in this blue season.
Come
quickly, we are crying.
Come to us quickly
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