It’s Beginning to Look A lot Like Christmas
Cooke’s-Portsmouth
Luke 21:25-36
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Trees are sprouting up in living rooms, churches, and
city squares. Garland is being woven through banisters and lights adorn peaks of rooftops and
windows. Stores are filled with seasonal sights and sounds as carols waft and items that are
available for purchase only during the late fall appear on shelves.
There are advent calendars to help us count down the days and churches have begun to compete
for crowds at Christmas Eve services; advertising themes and times in print, on web sites and
church signs. There was even a light dusting of snow on lawn and the hoods of cars on Tuesday
morning. But the text for this morning from the gospel of Luke makes no mention of any of the
familiar and sentimental figures from the beloved story, so beautifully told by Luke in his gospel.
No angel visitant to inform an unsuspecting faithful teenaged girl that she will become pregnant
by the Holy Spirit.
No shepherds watching their flocks with tender and observant eye. No angel chorus singing
Gloria in Excelsis Deo. No baby wrapped in swaddle, sleeping contentedly in a manger with
cows and sheep looking on in curiosity. The gospel text is probably the last that one would
expect to be read on Advent one, and one that preachers would probably prefer not to preach and
parishioners not want to hear expounded.
Who has come this morning to hear tell of signs in sun, moon, stars and on the earth that will
result in the citizens of the world fainting in fear? On a Sunday not too long ago the scripture
warned not to read too much into signs and portents; that natural phenomenon, war and rumour
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of war are simply the beginning of the birth pangs that will result in the unfolding of God’s
mysterious plan. This morning we are being instructed to take serious note of unfolding
phenomenon and to respond faithfully and in a spirit of preparation.
Rather than hearing of his first coming into the world as a helpless, dependant baby, we read of
his second coming at the close of the age. And we are told not just to prepare but to beware. But
as strange as it may seem there is something strangely appropriate for us to ponder even as we
string our lights and decorate our trees.
In Luke’s apocalypse Jesus challenges us as he challenged his original hearers in the Jerusalem
temple to look up, pay attention and be ready. Advent means “coming” or arrival and this
apocalyptic texts reminds that there are two arrivals in our theology that we are to be prepared
for. The first is God coming into the world in the infant Jesus whose birth we celebrate at
Christmas and his return at a time that we do not know. Jesus wants his followers to be ready.
We are to remain alert and place our hope in the sleeping baby and the man and his message .We
are to be mindful of the whole of his story all of the time, and, part of that story contains living in
the “not yet” of unfulfilled prophecy about his return; coming in the clouds as the Son of Man. It
is not an element of scripture that we think about too often and I prefer to look to the signs in
nature and inhumanity to humanity not as precursers to his return, but as natural and unnatural
phenomena. The interpretation of signs requires a more intellectual person than I. Rather than
looking to the heavens and proclaiming an imminent return, I prefer a more practical musing of
the text. How does this scripture speak to me on the first Sunday of Advent and as more and
more signs of the season spring into view? Perhaps we can find an application for the text in the
living of our lives in the warning that comes in verse 34 about being on guard so that our hearts
do not get weighed down.
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If there is a place for cynicism as the season takes increasing hold it is in the commercial
celebration of Christmas that always threatens to usurp the cry of a baby and the song of the
angel. Be on guard to let that happen.
Do not let your hearts get weighed down by guilt if you decide to spend less money and spend
more time with those you love. No box, however beautifully wrapped and cleverly disguised can
convey the height and depth of one’s love, respect and value for another.
Do not allow the commercials on television or the pages of ads in the newspaper to outshine
what is being celebrated. It is a celebration of God’s love for the world that was the inspiration to
assume human flesh and live among humanity to experience the fullness of humanity. Neither
should we harbour any allusions about celebrating the perfect Christmas, because things will go
awry and this is not a reflection of anything other than Murphy’s Law.
Babies will be born as the season unfolds and the angel of death will continue to collect souls.
Much of what we embrace as ordinary will continue to occur even as we hang the garland and
purchase the gifts.
My week began with celebrating the life of a person from the wider community who was an
alcoholic and a drug addict. I was privileged to read eulogies from friends and family who did
not whitewash the whole of the person’s life nor dwell only on the challenges. One eulogist
wrote with honesty and depth about the love and grace that existed alongside of the demons and
addictions. As I read I saw the image of a seesaw teetering back and forth between success and
failure; dependence and sobriety. And I was reminded of the imperfection in all of humanity to
greater and lesser degree. It is our growing edges and imperfections that we have in common
with all of humanity. From one eloquent eulogy I read:
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She made mistakes. She tried to make up for them. She was constantly trying to improve herself
She could believe in “good”. She loved her family. She asked for help from others. She offered
help to others. She had not maliciously hurt anyone. In fact her “badness” had a positive
side. She gave my parents a chance to show me how great they are.
When the phone rang in the middle of the night and my mom patiently listened to her latest (real
or imagined) crisis for several hours.
When my dad got up and drove for 4 hours to spring her from jail or to attend to her in the
hospital
Through it all they still found a way to love and even appreciate her special qualities
They never told me that she was bad… just that she did bad things sometimes
My parents’ actions with respect to her make me appreciate them more than I can ever express.
Though quite a secular celebration I was privileged to be reminded of significant truth: that out
of seeming failure there is birthed a flicker of hope. That from a felled stump a shoot takes root
and there is the hope of new life. That love is stronger than disappointment and our weaknesses
need not render us worthless nor beneath the power of love to flicker forth in radiance.
Be on guard to have your priorities in the right order. Do not be weighed down by
commercialism but rather be liberated by the good news. Do not become cynical so that you
become oblivious to the warmth that is emitted from a single candle. We anticipate his birth even
as we prepare to celebrate his death through the sacrament of Holy Communion. We honour his
birth and ponder his eventual return.
This is our faith and this is our hope. Thanks be to God. Amen
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