Homily
1st Sunday of Advent B
30 November 2014
Christ the King Parish Topeka
Daily Readings
Come, Lord Jesus come! God get down here. God do something! God come closer! The prayer from the prophet Isaiah from our first reading is daring God to be who he says he would be - the savior of his people! It is a bold prayer! It is a prayer so different than our usual prayer to God - God keep your distance. God give me more time to work on myself and my projects. The prayer from Isaiah, the prayer of Advent, is so different; in fact, it's quite the opposite. It's not a test of God . .but it's a prayer of desperation. It's the prayer of a people no longer satisfied with tinkering with self-improvement. It is the prayer of Advent . . the prayer of a people who know they need a savior. God get down here! Now! Look at us! You said you would help us! I dare you to come closer! Lord, we need you!
How often do we tell God how much we need him? Speaking for myself, not very often. In fact, it's the last prayer I say. I might as a last resort ask God for his mercy, to forgive my many offenses. But then I quickly return to trying to fix myself. I'm embarrassed I had to ask for help, and instead of leaning into God's mercy I pray I'll need less in the future. I ask God for time and distance so I can return to my prideful self-reliance, returning to my hope that I will need God as little as possible.
The prayer of Advent is much better, and it's quite the opposite. Advent is not being terrified of God coming closer to be our savior. It is being terrified instead that God might not come, that he might keep his distance and I will be trapped forever in the terror and slavery of my own limitations. For I am addicted to sin myself, and I am part of a dysfunctional human family who will never choose to always love. I need a savior. You need a savior. We all need a savior. Someone who is like us, but who can break in with power and perfection from the outside. It's nice to have someone who's willing to join us in jail, but better to have someone who can actually break us out. Our deepest need is not for a guru who can tell us how to fix ourselves, for such gurus are not the ultimate solution, they are also a part of the problem. No, we uniquely need a savior. One who comes to heal us not with a plan, but with a heart. One who comes not with a prescription, but with a relationship. One who alone can heal us and perfect us where we cannot love or change ourselves. We need someone who can be as close to us as we are to ourselves, one like us in all things but sin, but one who is outside the dysfunction and addiction that is our helpless human condition. I need a savior. You need a savior. We need a savior.
In Advent, we change the way we think. We admit that what is terrifying for us is not that He is coming, but that He may not come. What is slavery is not that the Lord takes over our lives, but that he leaves us to our own devices. What is equally scary is that he is coming, but that we will probably miss him. We celebrate the first Sunday of Advent at a time in the north when the days are getting shorter. There is less daylight to see things. We get sleepy earlier and tend to think the day ends sooner. The busy-ness and anxieties of life, and our own sins, can equally make us drowsy to the Lord's coming. Advent urges us that the darker it becomes, the more eager we are to keep vigil, to stay awake, to look for the Lord's coming and for a light that shatters the darkness. In Advent we admit that when the Lord came into our world at the darkest hour of the darkest night, only those very few with the purest of faith saw him. Yet that lowly, inconspicuous manger scene was the most dramatic of human moments! We enter Advent knowing we must dramatically change if this Christmas is to be any different than those that have passed.
Advent is the time of unparalleled anticipation, a time of waking up spiritually. Like scientists who look for smaller and smaller particles to unlock the big mysteries of the universe. Like teams that practice for countless hours to be ready for the one play that will make or break a season. Advent is knowing that the spark that will light our spiritual lives on fire, and make new things possible, lies just ahead of us, for those who refuse to fall asleep.
This Advent stop asking God for more time and distance to tinker with your own plans. Let go of old controls and securities. Get over your fears of what the Lord's coming will mean for you. Delight in a God who can overwhelm you at any time, and eventually will, but who for now delights in small surprises that come at the least expected moments for those whose hearts are awake in faith! Don't depend upon God as a last resort. This Advent, ask him the opposite. Tell him how much you need him. Ask him to come sooner. Ask him to come closer. And actually mean it. Come, Lord Jesus. Come!
1st Sunday of Advent B
30 November 2014
Christ the King Parish Topeka
Daily Readings
Come, Lord Jesus come! God get down here. God do something! God come closer! The prayer from the prophet Isaiah from our first reading is daring God to be who he says he would be - the savior of his people! It is a bold prayer! It is a prayer so different than our usual prayer to God - God keep your distance. God give me more time to work on myself and my projects. The prayer from Isaiah, the prayer of Advent, is so different; in fact, it's quite the opposite. It's not a test of God . .but it's a prayer of desperation. It's the prayer of a people no longer satisfied with tinkering with self-improvement. It is the prayer of Advent . . the prayer of a people who know they need a savior. God get down here! Now! Look at us! You said you would help us! I dare you to come closer! Lord, we need you!
How often do we tell God how much we need him? Speaking for myself, not very often. In fact, it's the last prayer I say. I might as a last resort ask God for his mercy, to forgive my many offenses. But then I quickly return to trying to fix myself. I'm embarrassed I had to ask for help, and instead of leaning into God's mercy I pray I'll need less in the future. I ask God for time and distance so I can return to my prideful self-reliance, returning to my hope that I will need God as little as possible.
The prayer of Advent is much better, and it's quite the opposite. Advent is not being terrified of God coming closer to be our savior. It is being terrified instead that God might not come, that he might keep his distance and I will be trapped forever in the terror and slavery of my own limitations. For I am addicted to sin myself, and I am part of a dysfunctional human family who will never choose to always love. I need a savior. You need a savior. We all need a savior. Someone who is like us, but who can break in with power and perfection from the outside. It's nice to have someone who's willing to join us in jail, but better to have someone who can actually break us out. Our deepest need is not for a guru who can tell us how to fix ourselves, for such gurus are not the ultimate solution, they are also a part of the problem. No, we uniquely need a savior. One who comes to heal us not with a plan, but with a heart. One who comes not with a prescription, but with a relationship. One who alone can heal us and perfect us where we cannot love or change ourselves. We need someone who can be as close to us as we are to ourselves, one like us in all things but sin, but one who is outside the dysfunction and addiction that is our helpless human condition. I need a savior. You need a savior. We need a savior.
In Advent, we change the way we think. We admit that what is terrifying for us is not that He is coming, but that He may not come. What is slavery is not that the Lord takes over our lives, but that he leaves us to our own devices. What is equally scary is that he is coming, but that we will probably miss him. We celebrate the first Sunday of Advent at a time in the north when the days are getting shorter. There is less daylight to see things. We get sleepy earlier and tend to think the day ends sooner. The busy-ness and anxieties of life, and our own sins, can equally make us drowsy to the Lord's coming. Advent urges us that the darker it becomes, the more eager we are to keep vigil, to stay awake, to look for the Lord's coming and for a light that shatters the darkness. In Advent we admit that when the Lord came into our world at the darkest hour of the darkest night, only those very few with the purest of faith saw him. Yet that lowly, inconspicuous manger scene was the most dramatic of human moments! We enter Advent knowing we must dramatically change if this Christmas is to be any different than those that have passed.
Advent is the time of unparalleled anticipation, a time of waking up spiritually. Like scientists who look for smaller and smaller particles to unlock the big mysteries of the universe. Like teams that practice for countless hours to be ready for the one play that will make or break a season. Advent is knowing that the spark that will light our spiritual lives on fire, and make new things possible, lies just ahead of us, for those who refuse to fall asleep.
This Advent stop asking God for more time and distance to tinker with your own plans. Let go of old controls and securities. Get over your fears of what the Lord's coming will mean for you. Delight in a God who can overwhelm you at any time, and eventually will, but who for now delights in small surprises that come at the least expected moments for those whose hearts are awake in faith! Don't depend upon God as a last resort. This Advent, ask him the opposite. Tell him how much you need him. Ask him to come sooner. Ask him to come closer. And actually mean it. Come, Lord Jesus. Come!
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