Isaiah 64:1-9
While
the calendar still reads November, the candles in front of the sanctuary and
the familiar strains of O Come, O Come
Emmanuel have announced we are entering that mystical season of Advent. Once
a year, as the days grow shorter and our psyches darken, sometimes even the
church fails at the task of helping the folks understand the significance of
the Christ event.
Part
of the problem is the church has lost its exclusive rights to Christmas. One
cannot turn around without being overwhelmed by the holidays. My favorite
station on my satellite radio has already been replaced with the sounds of the
season. Wednesday, I was listening to Miles Davis play selections from the album
Kind of Blue when suddenly, without
warning, I was subjected to Alvin and the Chipmunks singing Blue Christmas.
Yesterday, Deb took me
Christmas shopping at Short Pump. I now fully understand that phrase from the
Apostle’s Creed, “He descended into hell.” It was awful. People were flying
from one store to another trying to get a bargain on some trinket they could
have bought on-line. Children were screaming as parents dragged them to sit on
the laps of old men who looked pretty suspect to me. Music blared through the
speakers in a vain attempt to drown out customers fighting over the last Snow
Glow Talking Elsa Doll……..OK the music was drowning me out but it was the last
doll on the shelf and it was for my only granddaughter. That woman should have
acted her age.
Of
course, it is not totally fair to make commercialism the scapegoat. Maybe deep
down we really don’t want to confess why the birth of Jesus was necessary.
Listen to the ancient song that opened our service:
O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, and
ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here, until the
Son of God appears.
The words, originally
in Latin, come from a series of poems spoken during Advent in the twelfth
century. Each verse is a plea for freedom from tyranny, captivity, sin, and everything
ungodly. The music was added six centuries later when Thomas Helmore, a 19th
century choirmaster, discovered a French tune used at funerals called “Libera
me”. How perfect to link a tune desiring liberation from death with a poem mourning
one’s exile.
Singing about exile
seems almost inappropriate during this season of parties, lights, decorations,
gifts, and finally the big Christmas dinner. But how often, at the end of the
season, do you find yourself completely exhausted, wishing for peace and quiet.
How often, the night after Christmas, have you wondered if maybe we lost Christ
along the way?
Christmas as we know
it has expanded beyond the faithful. It is a day almost everyone celebrates,
regardless of their religious affiliations. Don’t mistake me for Scrooge. I am
still a kid at heart on Christmas morning. I anxiously anticipate what might be
wrapped in that gift brandishing my name. I love turkey, cranberry sauce, and I
have never turned down a piece of homemade sweet potato pie. I will even let
you in on a little secret. Once the Christmas Eve services are finished, I
really don’t want to think about anything related to Jesus until the following
year. Christmas Day is my Sabbath from God. I love the festivities, the
company, the football games, even the mess in the middle of the room. Just
don’t ask me to talk about why Jesus had to come. That is too painful a subject
for such a glorious day.
That is why Advent is
so important. Advent is when we raise those unspeakable questions. Advent is
when we expose our most secret yearnings. Advent is when we cry “Come Lord
Jesus,” even though we doubt he will. Christmas Day comes and goes, comes and
goes, and comes and goes. The presents change with the ages of the children.
The food is always wonderful and the stories delightful. The reason for the day
hardly matters as we celebrate our families and cherish how much we have been
blessed. We need this one day as a respite, a break, from the tragedies of our
world.
The writer of third Isaiah offers a minority
opinion. He prays, “O God, come down to us so that even the mountains might quake
at your presence. Make your name known to my enemies so that the nations might
tremble.”
How many of us have
prayed this prayer? We call out for God to rage against our adversaries and
bring justice upon those who have blasphemed God’s holy name. We want
vindication. We want God to step back into our world and make things holy. We
understand Isaiah because we all have our holy causes. All we desire is a holy
response. What is not to like about the words of Isaiah?
I warn you, Old
Testament prophets will tease your appetites and then pluck the candy from your
lips before you can take the first bite. Isaiah answers his request even before
the Almighty can speak. “God, have you been silent because we have been negligent?
Have you been absent because we have forgotten your ways? Have you become angry
because we have sinned and become unclean? If we call on your wrath, would your
punishment begin with us? Do not be angry. Do not remember our sin forever.”
Few of us want to hear
a sermon about the anger of God, especially when there are only 25 shopping days
left until Christmas. None of us want to hear a sermon suggesting our disregard
for Holy expectations has left God deaf to our prayers demanding holy
retribution.
This prayer of Isaiah
has always fascinated me. Its inspiration comes from a people complaining it had
been too long a time since God made a house call. The cynical prophet mocks an
unfaithful people, when in their voice, he prays, “My flaws may be many, but can
they compare with the sins of my enemy? Come down from heaven and do
something…..NOW!”
Ever pray that prayer?
I suspect we unconsciously pray it far too often. I also suspect until we admit
our own sins, we will never fully appreciate the necessity for God’s anger.
The hardest job I ever
had in my life was being a parent. Deb and I were blessed with two really good
kids. I also like to think they were blessed with two pretty good parents. That
does not mean we did not encounter active resistance on behalf of our two
children. We were not their “best friends forever,” we were their parents. More
than once we were told we were the worst parents in the entire universe. We
made choices for our children, which they would have never made. We engaged them
in activities other parents found questionable. We had high expectations, which
were not always met. When our children failed, they knew offering excuses or
blaming others was not acceptable. As they got older, they didn’t fail nearly
as often.
I can still remember
getting angry with my children. I can remember moments when their actions were
less than appropriate, and I was terribly disappointed in the choices they
made. I could have stepped in and smoothed things out but I didn’t. What would
they have learned? More importantly, what responsibility would they have taken
for their inappropriate behavior? I would seethe, but when I cooled down, Deb
and I would try to initiate the proper discipline to motivate different behavior.
We loved and continue to love our children more than life itself. But sometimes
it was our anger, not our love, which helped Martina and David become who they
are today.
Imagine how often God
must seethe at our behavior? Imagine how angry God must be over skies swollen
in smog, water unfit to drink, children dying before the age of two, and others
living as slaves. Do you think God is unaware of the tragedies of the Middle
East or riots in Ferguson, Missouri?
Where is God? Why doesn’t God step forward?
Could it be that God
the parent is wondering why we are so inactive? Could it be that God the parent
wonders why we cannot comprehend the choices we make? Could it be that God the
parent has become really tired of our excuses and our inability to share in the
responsibility for our personal and global problems? Could God’s greatest pain
and anger come from good folks doing nothing in the face of these injustices? Could
it be that God the parent would like to hear our confessions?
The world has turned
Christmas Day into a global timeout. For one day we call a truce on having to
think about any of the ungodliness that soils our lives. That’s why some folks
want everyday to be Christmas. No more thinking, no more responsibility,
because one day God will come and clean up the whole mess.
Advent highlights both
the love and anger of a righteous God, who has great and holy expectations.
Advent proclaims that
God has saved us once, and God will save us again.
Advent reminds us that
until Emmanuel comes again,
GOD IS WAITING
ON US!
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