Year A, 1 Advent
Given by Sherry Black at St. Mark's, West Frankfort, IL on December 2nd, 2007.

Down in the extreme southwest of Ireland, the Dingle Peninsula juts out into the Atlantic Ocean. In the seventh century, that peninsula was the westernmost point in all the known world of Europeans of that time. Just a few miles off the rugged coast, some monks in those days built a monastery at Skellig Michael, a tiny, steep, rocky spit of an island named for the archangel whose trumpet call is to signal the return of the Lord in glory.

For the better part of seven hundred years the monks and their followers eked out a bare and spare existence, waiting for the return of Christ. They survived countless trials—seven hundred years of trials: loneliness, isolation, frightful weather, and even a ninth-century assault by Vikings, who abducted their abbot and starved him to death. Nothing budged these monks from their rock of vigilance—nothing that is, until monastic reform arrived in Ireland, and less demanding orders of Benedictines and Augustinians began to grow to prominence there. In the thirteenth century, the remaining monks on Skellig Michael got into their little boats and rowed solemnly away from their island outpost forever. Writing of their departure, Barbara Brown Taylor observes:

No one knows for sure why they left, but it seems entirely possible to me that they just got tired of waiting. Seven hundred years is a long time to watch the horizon for the coming of the Lord. It is a long time to say your prayers, keep your fasts, and live in disciplined community together, especially when the word reaches you that those on the mainland have made some changes. They are eating better and sleeping later than you are. They have decided they can be in the world a little more without being of it, especially since it looks like they are in for a longer wait than anyone had expected.1

Waiting is hard. It seems we spend a good part of our lives waiting. And waiting . . . is one of the significant themes of Advent. Like much of the Christian life, Advent is counter-cultural. The world is all hustle and bustle and noise and shopping and parties. Advent calls for stillness, for a hushed quiet place, anticipating the coming of our Lord. Advent is a waiting place. Waiting and watching. And we don’t like to wait. Our world and our culture has told us that we can have anything instantly. Instant food, instant credit, instant pleasure—all at our fingertips. I sometimes get frustrated when my computer isn’t bringing me the world of information fast enough—and forget to be grateful for the miracle of the internet.

Advent says, “Be still and know that I am God.” “Keep watch.” Slow down, make time. Allow yourself to be open to waiting and watching—the hard stuff. Because after 2000 years we are still waiting for the Parousia, the 2 nd coming of Christ. Today’s Advent lessons are focused, not on Mary and Joseph and the birth of a baby in a manger. There are no angels or shepherds, and the lessons are a bit unsettling. We are looking at Christ’s return—this too is unsettling.

Jesus tells his followers that no-one knows the day or time of his coming. That he will return there is no doubt. But the exact time of his return cannot be pinpointed, though there may be a general indication. He will return. But no one knows the day or hour, not even the angels, not even Jesus himself—an example of Jesus voluntarily limiting his divine attributes so that he could experience human life in its fullest. He didn’t give up his deity, but he did give up the use of many divine characteristics, living according to the will of the Father. It was not the Father’s will for him to know the date of his return during his time on earth.

Since the time of his return is unknowable, Jesus tells his disciples to watch and be prepared. He compares the unexpectedness of his return to the days of Noah. They continued living as they always had: eating and drinking, marrying and being given in marriage. It’s “not that these things were sinful, but that the people were so wrapped up in everyday activities that they were caught off guard because they had no concern for righteousness and spiritual realities.”2 In contrast, Noah and his family believed the Lord and went on making preparations for the coming flood. They were prepared, both physically and spiritually.

Jesus illustrates the unexpectedness of his return by saying two men will be working; one will be taken to safety, and the other left, abandoned, forsaken. Two women will be milling grain, and one will be taken to safety and the other left, abandoned, forsaken. In each case, one is prepared and the other is not. Preparedness is an either/or proposition. You are either prepared, or you are not. You can’t be just a little bit prepared—like being just a little bit pregnant. Jesus, the Son of Man, will gather his people at his return to enjoy the in-breaking of his kingdom, and those left will experience his judgment.

Finally, Jesus tells his followers to keep watch, because they don’t know when he will return; his coming will be as unexpected as a thief in the night. If the homeowner had known when the thief was coming, he would have been ready to face the threat, but since burglars strike without warning, homeowners must themselves be diligent. So too the disciples of Jesus. Since they do not—cannot know the hour of his coming, they must keep watch, be prepared, be diligent. Watch and wait. How can disciples be prepared? By making sure of their salvation, by keeping short account of their behavior in regular self-examination and confession, and by seeking the kingdom of God in their lives and communities.

The key points that we need to remember is that Jesus’ return will be sudden and unexpected, and we must be prepared for his return, regardless of our circumstances. Life is fragile and fleeting; we don’t know the number of our days, whether by our own deaths, or by the coming of Christ. But life as we know it will come to an end. The world as we know it will be transformed when Jesus returns. We will either be with him, or not. We must watch, wait, and be prepared.

In his letter to the Romans, Paul tells his audience to live in the debt of love. The commandments are summed up in one: Love your neighbor as yourself. Love is the fulfillment of the law. Paul goes on to say that they do know what time it is, that it is the moment to wake up. The time of salvation is nearer than when they first believed; the night is far gone, the day is near. And so they should prepare by putting on the armor of light: living honorably and with integrity. Instead of living by desires and drunkenness, quarreling and jealousy, they are to clothe themselves with Christ and not gratify the desires of the flesh. “We who are in Christ must envelop ourselves in such a way that he directs all our thinking and our conduct.”3 This is not something we can do once and for all, but it is to be our daily intention, to live our lives in surrender to Christ.

When we put on Christ, when we are prepared to watch and wait for his return, being diligent in our obedience and discipline, our lives will look different. As Christians, we should not look too much like the world. It used to be that evangelical Christians tended to separate themselves from the world, with drinking, dancing, smoking being frowned on, and dress and hairstyles were subject to judgment. And I do agree that these judgments are extreme and really not the business of the church; and the Episcopal Church has not been much on that wavelength. But today too many Christians act too much like the world, and we have gone too far in testing our freedom in Christ. It’s not that we can’t do some of these things, but should we, as Christians?

Christians are called to be holy, to live our lives with honesty and integrity. The world may cut corners and take various shortcuts, but we are called to be faithful to God in our every day activities, our ordinary lives. We display our watchfulness and preparedness by living our lives as well and as faithfully as we can. In big things and small, at work and at home, we are to do all things as if we were doing it for God’s glory. NRS Colossians 3:17says And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

A monk by the name of Brother Lawrence speaks of cooking his omelet, or picking up a piece of straw, doing all things for the love of God.

So watch, wait. Be prepared. Be diligent. Jesus is coming. Take time to seek his presence this Advent. Watch, wait. Jesus is coming. Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord. Amen.

1 Chandler Stokes, First Presbyterian Church, Oakland, CA, quoting Barbara Brown Taylor, Seeds of Heaven: Sermons on the Gospel of Matthew (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2004), p. 108.

2 Wilkins, Michael J. The NIV Application Commentary: Matthew. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 801.

3 Moo, Douglas J. The NIV Application Commentary: Romans. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 441.