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High Alert
Isaiah 2:1-5; Matthew 24:36-44
December 2, 2001
Richard Foster has made quite a name for his self-denial. Early in the 1980's he wrote a book, The Celebration of Discipline, advocating the revival of classical Christian disciplines of the spiritual life. These include regular prayer and meditation, fasting periodically, spiritual reading, and study. I believe he overlooked one spiritual discipline - waiting.
Waiting has different levels or degrees. There is waiting for something which we are assured will come - like December 25th. Waiting for something or someone which we are not sure about is infinitely more trying and testing of one's spirit.
The test of the mettle of early Christians was that they waited with bated breath for Jesus to return. He did not return then, and has not returned yet - at least until this Advent.
The easiest thing to do is to give up waiting, an action that takes no patience, no courage, no genius. It's something we do all the time, especially giving up on people. It's ironic we don't give up on things very often, indeed we crave more things, for things don't give up on us.
We wait just as we wait for the coming of the thief in the middle of the night, Jesus says. Few images Jesus offers more disturbing than this one, especially if you have ever been robbed in your own home while you slept. I have and there is nothing to prepare you for it. How do you get ready for an event which is intended to be a total surprise?
As Christians we always have to be alert, on high alert, for something to happen - and we do not know what that something is. We could never have imagined how Jesus actually came to live among us, and we certainly have no clue what it will be like when he returns. Our spiritual emotional state is that of waiting to be surprised.
After September 11th, the whole world knows precisely our predicament. To wait for something we cannot predict which might change our lives irreparably is not a comfortable state in which to live.
We have an important advantage, plus lots of experience waiting. In some sports the good players know how to lean instinctively in the direction the play will be going. The centerfielder takes off even before the crack of the back, the linebacker senses where the play is developing - at least on the teams who play against the Roughriders.
We are leaning towards Bethlehem. This means that we are expecting nothing less than God is about to appear among us. How and in what form we do not know and cannot really imagine. No one knows the day or the hour, not even the angels or even Jesus.
It does make a difference what you expect when you wait. If after September 11 you expect terrorism and death, disillusionment and the disintegration of civilization, then the only events you will bother to notice will have those effects upon you.
Leaning towards Bethlehem, on high alert waiting for the thief to come in the night, however, you do expect that the world will be different tomorrow, that something will happen which will not only transform your body, but even more your soul. When a word is spoken to you, it will explode in the middle of your life full of the power of God, leaving nothing untouched.
The trouble with most Advents is that you and I stop waiting and stop paying attention to what is around you right now. Instead, we skip ahead to Christmas and simply count the days. When you wait with bated breath for the world to change, you examine every detail, every breath of wind, you experience every second of life to the fullest. What else are we supposed to do as Christians each day?
Something is going to happen and we do not know the day or the hour. The divine thief will come and will give us what we need and what we have never imagined.
Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan
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