The Tenses of Advent
The Rev. Paddy Cavanaugh, Advent I, Year B, 12/3/23
Readings: Isaiah 64:1-9 (Repentance), 1 Cor. 1:3-9 (Thanksgiving for Grace), Mark 13:24-37 (Watchfulness)
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, amen.
Today is the first Sunday in Advent and we mark the beginning of a new liturgical year by entering a season of preparation for the arrival of our Lord, Christ Jesus, into the world. But how, exactly? And why? Didn’t Jesus already come to us through his miraculous birth to the Blessed Virgin Mary in a manger two thousand years ago? Even in our world where the Feast of the Incarnation, also known as Christmas, has become thoroughly commercialized, we still hear carols on the radio proclaiming the wonder of the nativity story in shopping malls, advertisements, and on the radio. As ubiquitous as Christmas is this time of year, it’s easy to take for granted the story of God’s arrival on earth as just that – a cozy story of a possible historic event that is a nice aesthetic embellishment to a season filled with so many other mixed symbols of ambiguous origin.
Let’s take a quick inventory of some of these other stories that make up the American Christmas season. We have a jolly bearded man who benevolently invades our homes to spread goodwill and cheer; a red-nosed flying ungulate with a charming underdog story; and my personal favorite, a magical snowman in Victorian headgear who teaches us about seasons and melting points. At this time of year we parade out a menagerie of colorful folk stories that in several thousand years will make for a fantastic anthropology dissertation, and like everyone else, I love these stories. They introduce a sense of wonder in a world where the miraculous seems increasingly improbable. However, with so many other whimsical fables layered on top of one another also comes the real risk that the story of Jesus’ arrival the world becomes just like any other of them. Another rosy tale that brings nostalgic warmth, like the stuffing in a turkey.
And so, as we enter into the season of Advent – which is not yet Christmas – but looks towards it, I think it’s worthwhile to try to reclaim an understanding and sense of awe about the most peculiar, awesome, and world-changing story of all of them – the story of the incarnation of God himself.
Let’s begin by revisiting the question posed at the start. Didn’t this already happen? Didn’t Jesus already come to us through his miraculous birth to the Blessed Virgin Mary in a manger two thousand years ago? Well, yes, it did. But our sense of time during Advent is more nuanced than that. In fact during Advent we look at time going in three directions: past, present, and future. Looking backward, we will hear in the coming weeks scripture proclaiming the first coming of the child Messiah in the string of astounding events that led to his humble birth in Bethlehem on that first Christmas. Looking forward we will hear passages from scripture, as we do in today’s Gospel, that point to his mystical second coming at the end of time, to reconcile a fallen creation with God’s extravagant love. And looking at the present, we will hear stories that teach us how we, in our own time between these two incredible events, are to prepare ourselves for Jesus’ arrival in our hearts each new day. Advent is a season to encounter the life altering love of Jesus yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
So how does this threefold way of understanding time make the story of God’s incarnation of greater value to us? It does so by reminding us that the story of the incarnation is both story told and untold. You see, the point of Advent is not just to commemorate a far-off historical event that has been passed down through the ages. The point of Advent is to recall how the event of God’s incarnation in the person of Jesus Christ is real for us now and we have a real part to play in an unfolding relationship of redemption.
The prophet Isaiah sensed that this story of humanity’s relationship with a personal God, was unfinished. He knew it was an imperfect relationship, one that God had established with us when he created us, and one we had violated through our repeated transgressions against God and neighbor. Isaiah addresses God with great remorse about this. Speaking in the past and present tense he said “you were angry, and we sinned… you hid yourself [and] we transgressed… we all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away” (Is. 64:5-6). You can sense the anxiety dripping from his words as he recalls our imperfection and pleads forgiveness on behalf of all humanity in the future, saying “do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord, and do not remember our iniquity forever” (Is. 64:9).
Isaiah anticipates God’s future action with fear and trembling, knowing that if the all-powerful God dealt with us the way we dealt with one another, we are in deep trouble. But knowing all that we had done to violate the commandments given to us as a blueprint for love, what does God do instead? God comes to us, as one of us, not in anger, but in love to show us what true love looks like. To demonstrate that no matter how far we tried to run from it, God’s love would find us and embrace us. This is the moral of the Advent story. It’s not just about spreading Christmas cheer, underdog reindeer, or melting points, it’s about what St. Paul calls “the grace of God that has been given [us] in Christ Jesus” (1 Cor. 1:4). Grace that calls us into deeper fellowship with the Son of God, who is God, incarnate.
Advent in the past tense is about recalling God’s work of redemption by sending his son to forgive us and invite us into that deeper relationship. Advent in the present tense is about us accepting that love which God extends to us daily and choosing to extend it to others through prayer, repentance, and living in right relationship together. So what about Advent in the future tense?
This is where Advent begins to get spooky. Jesus, in Mark’s Gospel, paints a harrowing picture of what we can expect in his future arrival.
Jesus says that on that day “the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory. Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven” (Mk 13:24-26). Try writing a cheery carol about this apocalyptic vision!
Jesus does not say he will come like Santa Claus, bringing mirth and presents and laughter. The love of God is far more potent than tidings of comfort and joy. Instead, God’s love shakes the heavens and the earth. It scoops us up and enfolds us, and yes, Jesus is clear, there is an element of judgment. As much as I would like to, it would be misleading to whitewash this part of Advent away.
However, if the Advent of Jesus in the manger in the past tense tells us anything about the Advent of Jesus in the future tense, which I believe it does, then we can be assured of this: God’s judgment will be unjust. You heard that correctly, God’s judgment in the second coming will be unjust, at least by earthly standards. You see, justice by earthly standards is about getting what we deserve according to our actions. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. But God’s justice is about getting what we deserve in spite of our actions. That’s grace. God’s justice is about God stooping down, dwelling with us, breaking bread with us, and inviting us into relationship with a love so prodigal that it shakes away everything we knew or thought we knew about how the world works, until there is nothing left to do but sit in awe of that love.
The story of God’s love which comes down to us to restore us to fullness through the one who was fully God and fully human is what we look to in all directions during Advent. Our role in this ongoing story is to remember the ways Christ’s redeeming love has been with us in the past, to be awake and watchful to how that love comes to us in the future, and to prepare a manger in our hearts each new day to receive and share that love as broadly as we are able.
Advent is about preparing for the incarnation of the love of God in all three tenses, past, present, and future. Amen.