Isaiah 64:1-9

New Testament – Mark 13:24-37

Georgetown Presbyterian Church

Rev. Stephen H. Wilkins

November 27, 2005

First Sunday in Advent, Year B

Happy New Year! Today is the first Sunday in Advent, which means it’s the first day in the liturgical year of the church. I love the season of Advent. I love it, not so much for the merriment of the holiday season (though that is certainly enjoyable); rather, I love the season of Advent because it provides a much-needed corrective to the non-religious celebration of the Christmas season. You see, it’s easy to get caught up in the shopping and the decorations and the parties (and, mind you, these things are a necessary part of our tradition), but we also need to pause and remember why we even have Christmas in the first place. C.S. Lewis says that "the Christian faith is a thing of unspeakable joy. But it does not begin with joy, but rather in despair. And it is no good trying to reach the joy without first going through the despair."

It’s when you begin with despair that you can then appreciate the joy. Only, despair is not the way our world wants to begin our celebration of Christmas, is it? Yet that’s exactly where the lectionary takes us as we begin the season of Advent, to a time in the life of God’s people when they were at their deepest point of despair.

In this morning’s text from Isaiah, the Israelites have returned to Jerusalem after 70 years of Babylonian exile. But they have discovered that Jerusalem is not what she used to be. The only glory in Jerusalem lies in the memories that the people have. Jerusalem has been reduced to ruined remains. The Temple, the dwelling place of God, has been trampled and destroyed—ashes and rubble are the only evidence that there was once something of significance on that site. The anticipation of their return to their homeland has quickly been replaced by despair as the people realize that their dreams have literally gone up in smoke.

You’re not going to find Christmas cards quoting from today’s text from Isaiah, are you? You won’t find Christmas card quotes, but you will find the proper starting point from which to enter into the season of Advent. I’d like to suggest three things that come from these verses in Isaiah, three things that will help to give us the proper perspective as we look ahead to the joy of Christmas.

The first thing that I note is that there is a sense of urgency in the words of Isaiah: "Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down…" Another translation says, "If only…" "If only you would rend the heavens and come down..." Do you hear the urgency in those words? Can you feel the longing that arises from the depths of the human heart?

That’s what Advent longing is, it’s that heartfelt desire that God would break into this world and make it right. It’s that heartfelt desire that God would come and fill the godless void that seems to occupy so much space in our world and our lives. Advent longing comes from our despair at the world around us, and our wondering where is God in the midst of all the despair. Advent longing comes from our wondering why God is taking so long to fix things.

Do you ever feel that way? Do you ever wonder where God is? Do you ever wonder what’s taking God so long to fix things?

It is hard for us to understand God’s sense of timing. God's time clock is certainly out of sync with ours, just like Little Jimmy learned one day as he was laying on a hill in the middle of a meadow on a warm spring day. Puffy white clouds rolled by and he pondered their shape. Soon, he began to think about God.

"God? Are you really there?" Jimmy said out loud.

To his astonishment a voice came from the clouds. "Yes, Jimmy? What can I do for you?"

Seizing the opportunity, Jimmy asked, "God? What is a thousand years like to you?"

Knowing that Jimmy could not understand the concept of infinity, God responded in a manner to which Jimmy could relate. "A thousand years to me, Jimmy, is like a day."

"Oh," said Jimmy. "Well, then, what's a million dollars like to you?"

"A million dollars to me, Jimmy, is like a penny."

"Wow!" remarked Jimmy, getting an idea. "You're so generous... can I have one of your pennies?"

God replied, "Sure thing, Jimmy! I’ll give it to you tomorrow."

That’s a humorous way to make a serious point. To be sure, God’s sense of timing is way different from our sense of timing. Why does God delay? Why hasn’t Jesus returned yet? Does God’s tomorrow never get here soon enough for you?

Advent is the reminder that when we say, "Come, Lord Jesus," we say it with urgency.

We say it with urgency, because this world is in desperate need of a savior. As we seek a proper perspective for Advent, that’s the second thing from Isaiah’s text this morning: namely, that we’ve messed up this world something awful. Did you hear the words of the prophet, when he said, "All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away. No one calls on your name or strives to lay hold of you…"

If you want the right perspective in Advent, then you not only have to notice that the world is in bad shape and desperate need of a Savior, but you also have to confess that we humans have made the world the mess that it is. It’s time for us to take responsibility for the way the world is; if we are going to cry about the apparent absence of God, then maybe we also ought to recognize that we were the ones who first abandoned God.

My friends, repentance is one of the more prominent themes of the season of Advent. It’s why we adorn the pulpit and the necks of your pastors with purple during this season of the year. Purple is not only the color of royalty; it’s also the color of repentance. A proper perspective for Advent will realize that we dare not rush to greet the Redeemer prematurely until we pause and first admit that we do indeed need redemption.

Susan Andrews, former Moderator of the General Assembly of our denomination, and pastor in Bethesda, Maryland, has noted how appropriate it is that Advent falls during the time of the year when the days are shortest and the darkness is the longest, because "Advent anticipates the coming of God into the deepest darkness of our lives… [During Advent] it is wintry spirituality we are called to embrace—to discern the bare structure of our living, to face and feel the cold winds of a discordant and troubled life, to fully admit how much we need God to come into the brittle bareness of our days."

You see, it does no good to jump ahead to the joy of salvation that we celebrate at the birth of the Christ child, unless you have first considered the depths from which we need saving. And so it is that a proper perspective of Advent will anticipate joy, but only after first considering the sin in which we are hopelessly mired.

The third thing that I want to glean from the words of Isaiah is that our hope does not come from within ourselves, but it comes from the heart of God, who is our Creator and our Father. As Isaiah cries out on behalf of the people, he does not appeal to the righteousness of the people, for even our greatest righteousness is still like filthy rags. No, Isaiah makes his appeal on the basis of God’s relationship with us: "Yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. Do not be angry beyond measure, O Lord; do not remember our sins forever."

Elsewhere in the New Testament, Jesus tells us a story about what it means that God is our Father. The story of the prodigal son is also the story of the father. And in that story we are told that, though the son has taken his inheritance and has run away from home, the father is always searching the horizon for the first sign that his son is returning; and as soon as he sees his son coming, the father runs out to embrace the son and welcome him back home. That’s what it means when we call God our Father—that we can trust that he will not reject our repentance, but will receive us with open arms when we return to Him.

The other image Isaiah uses is that of the potter. It is not the potter’s nature to destroy what he has created; instead, the potter takes the clay, as long as it is pliable, and works it into something of beauty, in which the potter will take great pride. Again, that’s the way God deals with us: as long as we are willing, he will mold us and remake us and transform us into a work of beauty, something that will bring glory to our Creator. Our hope is not in ourselves, but in the One who has created us and given us life in the first place.

I want you to know that, by starting the Christian year from a point of despair, by underscoring the sense of urgency, by pointing out our need for repentance, I’m not trying to put a damper on the season. I simply want to invite you to pause and consider what the Church is reminded during Advent: that the world is messed up and in need of a Savior, and we can’t un-mess things by ourselves; and that God loves this world (including you and me), so much that He is not willing to settle for a messed-up world. And so He comes to us in the person of the Christ child born in a lowly stable.

Don’t jump ahead to Christmas until you’ve first considered the reason we need Christmas in the first place. That God would come down to us and dwell among us means nothing if you haven’t first considered why it was even necessary that he come at all.

By all means, please be sure to celebrate the season. Just do it for the right reasons. Amen.