Crossing the bridge
Commentary
If we had no church year calendar we would soon create one. Our sense of order demands it. Without it we would soon fall victim to a series of Sundays that would center on propaganda for causes rather than proclamation of the Gospel. Even with our liturgical rhythm we feel that threat!
This First Sunday in Advent serves as a bridge from one year to the next. In the last Sundays of the previous year we reflected on eschatological sayings of Jesus and other biblical writers. Judgment day is coming.
All of today's lessons reflect that same accent. But those days cannot be separated from these days. The One who will come, has come.
That is why the Advent Season stretches our preaching skills to the limit. We are not dealing with a single event, such as the exodus, the return from exile, the birth of Christ, the crucifixion, the resurrection, or the day of Pentecost. During Advent we must combine several streams -- the promise of our Lord's coming, Jesus' coming in his incarnation, his promise to come again in judgment, and how all of them touch this moment in the lives of those who hear us.
In the midst of the horrors of World War II, Helmut Thielicke watched his world disintegrate. Judgment fell on his native Germany, not only for the Nazis, but also for those, like Thielicke and Bonhoeffer, who resisted. But Thielicke discovered that even total chaos had its positive side. Mingled with his fear was an unexpected sense of hope.
Sometimes I gazed lovingly at the rows of books in my study and thought to myself, "I still have you. Perhaps you'll go up in flames tomorrow, but today is today." I experienced not the eschatological dissipation of the moment I had expected, but an enormous increase in the intensity of life. The "beautiful moment" acquired a heightened luminosity. The early Christians who were convinced of the imminent end of the world perhaps did not despise the world at all as much as I had thought. (Helmut Thielicke, Notes From A Wayfarer, Paragon Press, 1995, p. 162.)
Our task in Advent is to bring moments of "heightened luminosity" to a people facing judgment.
Grist For The Mill
Isaiah 2:1-5
Luther suggests that the root of all sin is unbelief, which results in turning away from God and toward self. The same is true for any corporate group, including a nation. That is what Isaiah saw happening in Israel. They had come to believe that they were so special that God cared only for them. Thus, when their fortunes turned sour they concluded that God had abandoned them.
The prophet's task is to call them back to the original Abrahamic vision -- that they are blessed to be a blessing. The nations will stream to Jerusalem, not because Israel is superior to them, but that Israel "may teach us his ways and that we may walk in (the Lord's) paths" (2:3). Through the chosen people of God the nations will learn the way of peace and justice.
If the Christian church is the "new Israel," we who claim to be followers of Christ bear that same responsibility. We are to remind the world that all people live under judgment and grace. God calls all nations to accountability. "He shall judge between the nations" (2:4). From those who walk in the Lord's way will come insight on how to "beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks" (2:4).
Across from the United Nations center in New York City one can find these words etched in stone. Does this mean that we pin our hopes on the work of the UN? Yes and no. Surely we must work for justice and peace now. The churches should be in the forefront of that endeavor.
But what about the "days to come" (2:2) of which Isaiah speaks? When will that day be here? Neither Isaiah nor we can know. It is like looking down a long road with trees on either side. They converge in the distance, but we cannot tell exactly where. We move ahead, doing the work of God for this time and trusting that God will have a final word.
Romans 13:11-14
Although God is not yet finished with Israel, Paul is convinced that the promise is now being fulfilled through the Gentiles. This should not cause pride. Whether Jew or Gentile, everything is by grace, says Paul. Because he believes the end is near, he urges the believers to get on vigorously with the work of the kingdom.
In order to make his point, Paul uses the technique of contrast: sleep/wake; night/day; darkness/light; honorable life/reveling, drunkenness, debauchery, licentiousness, quarreling, jealousy.
What about us? With so little sense of urgency about the coming of Christ, where is our motivation for sharing the Gospel and for living a Christ-centered life? The key is in Paul's understanding of the radical nature of life in Christ. In Romans 6:3-4 the contrast is between death and life. Those who are baptized into Christ go to the cross with him. They die. But they also come from the tomb. They live. Thus, whether Christ returns today or tomorrow or a thousand years from now is not the critical issue. Those who claim to be Christian are to live the new life each day. "The Christian," writes Reginald Fuller, "stands in the dark with his face lit by the coming dawn. He can therefore already cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. He can live 'as in the day,' although actually he is still in the night." (Reginald H. Fuller, Preaching the Lectionary: The Word of God for the Church Today, The Liturgical Press, 1974, p. 102.)
It was Romans 13:13-14 that led to the conversion of Augustine. Upon reading these words, he says, "I did not desire to read further, nor did I need to. Instantly ... a light of serenity flooded my heart and all the darkness of doubt vanished away." (Philip H. Pfatteicher, Festivals and Commemorations, Augsburg, 1980, p. 336.)
Matthew 24:36-44
As we near the Third Millennium we can expect prophecies that the year 2000 may mark the end of the world. The irony of it all is that Dionysius Exiguus, the sixth-century monk who created the B.C.-A.D. system of numbering, miscalculated the birth of Christ by several years, making it likely we may have passed the 2000th anniversary in 1994. This only underscores the point that for believers any year, any day, any moment is a time for the Lord's coming.
This makes the contrast between Matthew and Paul all the more striking. In Paul's Letter to the Romans it is those who practice all kinds of wickedness who will not be ready. Here in Matthew those not prepared are doing very ordinary things, as in the days of Noah: eating, drinking, marrying, working in the field, grinding at the mill. There is nothing inherently wicked about any of these activities. We do the same. We eat, drink, marry, bury, socialize, go to work, do the wash, mow the grass, vacuum the rugs .... But this is just the point Jesus wants to make: It is in the routine of our ordinary day that we are most likely to forget the urgency of being a Christian.
The Letter to the Hebrews is thought to have been addressed to believers who were no longer living in the expectation of Christ's imminent return. They had fallen into an easy routine. They were content with spiritual "baby food" rather than a solid diet (Hebrews 5:12-14). Some were neglecting to worship on a regular basis (Hebrews 10:25). To them the author addresses the unsettling question: "How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?" (Hebrews 2:3).
I have been a pastor for almost 40 years. I can count on one hand the number of persons who have said to me, "Pastor, I once believed, but now I reject it all. I once testified that Christ was my Lord. Now I no longer believe in him." No, not many like that. But how many can I count who by simple neglect have drifted away from the church and from the faith?
Advent is a time to wake up!
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By James A. Nestingen
Isaiah 2:1-5
In the wintery overcast of the Northern Plains, whites and grays meld, obscuring the horizon by obviating the break between sky and standing snows. Everything appears soft.
But there is a hard edge of violence hidden in the obscurity. Cold permeates, overtaking its victims without a sound. With a barely perceptible breeze, drifting snowflakes can quickly be whipped into a blinding blizzard of whites, stranding all movement.
There is another form of death that was hidden in the plains. When the cold war's fears justified them, cement pockets were installed along the Canadian border. Many of the installations were decoys, left empty. But enough were filled to turn sparsely populated states into the equivalent of world nuclear powers. They contained Minuteman missiles. It was never clear whether the name was given the people sending them, the weapons themselves or the intended targets. Neither was it ever sure which of these "silos," as they were called, were the more empty.
Antelope, like white-tailed deer, don't comprehend fences. To them, webbed wire, galvanized steel -- human assertions of sovereignty -- are minor nuisances in the run of open range.
So a herd grazed within a Minuteman compound, brown compactions of speed and grace dotting the snow, oblivious to anything but the possibility of frozen grasses. A doe stood with one leg on the cement lip of the missile tube, looked up and, content that her observers posed no threat, put her head down once more to continue her foraging.
The empty dreariness of every day accommodates us to continuing conflict. Their competing claims make it difficult to distinguish between peacemakers and peacebreakers. In the end, violence continues to cycle on itself, victims and victimizers rolling over one another in an unbreakable embrace.
Isaiah presents a vision of divine intervention. Having chosen them for the sake of the other peoples of the world, God has sent the children of Abraham and Sarah to carry this promise to the nations. Not all of the people saw what Isaiah did, peering through the obscurity. But as he looked over his people's shoulders, he saw God's future: a time when the cycle of violence will be broken, when all of the peoples of the world will follow Israel to Mount Zion, there to be taught by God. Though the form differs, Christians share this expectation: God will break through the strife, reforging weaponry to culture his creatures. Thus an antelope's nonchalance will be more than a glimpse of God's intention -- the whole creation will abound in his peace.
This First Sunday in Advent serves as a bridge from one year to the next. In the last Sundays of the previous year we reflected on eschatological sayings of Jesus and other biblical writers. Judgment day is coming.
All of today's lessons reflect that same accent. But those days cannot be separated from these days. The One who will come, has come.
That is why the Advent Season stretches our preaching skills to the limit. We are not dealing with a single event, such as the exodus, the return from exile, the birth of Christ, the crucifixion, the resurrection, or the day of Pentecost. During Advent we must combine several streams -- the promise of our Lord's coming, Jesus' coming in his incarnation, his promise to come again in judgment, and how all of them touch this moment in the lives of those who hear us.
In the midst of the horrors of World War II, Helmut Thielicke watched his world disintegrate. Judgment fell on his native Germany, not only for the Nazis, but also for those, like Thielicke and Bonhoeffer, who resisted. But Thielicke discovered that even total chaos had its positive side. Mingled with his fear was an unexpected sense of hope.
Sometimes I gazed lovingly at the rows of books in my study and thought to myself, "I still have you. Perhaps you'll go up in flames tomorrow, but today is today." I experienced not the eschatological dissipation of the moment I had expected, but an enormous increase in the intensity of life. The "beautiful moment" acquired a heightened luminosity. The early Christians who were convinced of the imminent end of the world perhaps did not despise the world at all as much as I had thought. (Helmut Thielicke, Notes From A Wayfarer, Paragon Press, 1995, p. 162.)
Our task in Advent is to bring moments of "heightened luminosity" to a people facing judgment.
Grist For The Mill
Isaiah 2:1-5
Luther suggests that the root of all sin is unbelief, which results in turning away from God and toward self. The same is true for any corporate group, including a nation. That is what Isaiah saw happening in Israel. They had come to believe that they were so special that God cared only for them. Thus, when their fortunes turned sour they concluded that God had abandoned them.
The prophet's task is to call them back to the original Abrahamic vision -- that they are blessed to be a blessing. The nations will stream to Jerusalem, not because Israel is superior to them, but that Israel "may teach us his ways and that we may walk in (the Lord's) paths" (2:3). Through the chosen people of God the nations will learn the way of peace and justice.
If the Christian church is the "new Israel," we who claim to be followers of Christ bear that same responsibility. We are to remind the world that all people live under judgment and grace. God calls all nations to accountability. "He shall judge between the nations" (2:4). From those who walk in the Lord's way will come insight on how to "beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks" (2:4).
Across from the United Nations center in New York City one can find these words etched in stone. Does this mean that we pin our hopes on the work of the UN? Yes and no. Surely we must work for justice and peace now. The churches should be in the forefront of that endeavor.
But what about the "days to come" (2:2) of which Isaiah speaks? When will that day be here? Neither Isaiah nor we can know. It is like looking down a long road with trees on either side. They converge in the distance, but we cannot tell exactly where. We move ahead, doing the work of God for this time and trusting that God will have a final word.
Romans 13:11-14
Although God is not yet finished with Israel, Paul is convinced that the promise is now being fulfilled through the Gentiles. This should not cause pride. Whether Jew or Gentile, everything is by grace, says Paul. Because he believes the end is near, he urges the believers to get on vigorously with the work of the kingdom.
In order to make his point, Paul uses the technique of contrast: sleep/wake; night/day; darkness/light; honorable life/reveling, drunkenness, debauchery, licentiousness, quarreling, jealousy.
What about us? With so little sense of urgency about the coming of Christ, where is our motivation for sharing the Gospel and for living a Christ-centered life? The key is in Paul's understanding of the radical nature of life in Christ. In Romans 6:3-4 the contrast is between death and life. Those who are baptized into Christ go to the cross with him. They die. But they also come from the tomb. They live. Thus, whether Christ returns today or tomorrow or a thousand years from now is not the critical issue. Those who claim to be Christian are to live the new life each day. "The Christian," writes Reginald Fuller, "stands in the dark with his face lit by the coming dawn. He can therefore already cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. He can live 'as in the day,' although actually he is still in the night." (Reginald H. Fuller, Preaching the Lectionary: The Word of God for the Church Today, The Liturgical Press, 1974, p. 102.)
It was Romans 13:13-14 that led to the conversion of Augustine. Upon reading these words, he says, "I did not desire to read further, nor did I need to. Instantly ... a light of serenity flooded my heart and all the darkness of doubt vanished away." (Philip H. Pfatteicher, Festivals and Commemorations, Augsburg, 1980, p. 336.)
Matthew 24:36-44
As we near the Third Millennium we can expect prophecies that the year 2000 may mark the end of the world. The irony of it all is that Dionysius Exiguus, the sixth-century monk who created the B.C.-A.D. system of numbering, miscalculated the birth of Christ by several years, making it likely we may have passed the 2000th anniversary in 1994. This only underscores the point that for believers any year, any day, any moment is a time for the Lord's coming.
This makes the contrast between Matthew and Paul all the more striking. In Paul's Letter to the Romans it is those who practice all kinds of wickedness who will not be ready. Here in Matthew those not prepared are doing very ordinary things, as in the days of Noah: eating, drinking, marrying, working in the field, grinding at the mill. There is nothing inherently wicked about any of these activities. We do the same. We eat, drink, marry, bury, socialize, go to work, do the wash, mow the grass, vacuum the rugs .... But this is just the point Jesus wants to make: It is in the routine of our ordinary day that we are most likely to forget the urgency of being a Christian.
The Letter to the Hebrews is thought to have been addressed to believers who were no longer living in the expectation of Christ's imminent return. They had fallen into an easy routine. They were content with spiritual "baby food" rather than a solid diet (Hebrews 5:12-14). Some were neglecting to worship on a regular basis (Hebrews 10:25). To them the author addresses the unsettling question: "How shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?" (Hebrews 2:3).
I have been a pastor for almost 40 years. I can count on one hand the number of persons who have said to me, "Pastor, I once believed, but now I reject it all. I once testified that Christ was my Lord. Now I no longer believe in him." No, not many like that. But how many can I count who by simple neglect have drifted away from the church and from the faith?
Advent is a time to wake up!
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By James A. Nestingen
Isaiah 2:1-5
In the wintery overcast of the Northern Plains, whites and grays meld, obscuring the horizon by obviating the break between sky and standing snows. Everything appears soft.
But there is a hard edge of violence hidden in the obscurity. Cold permeates, overtaking its victims without a sound. With a barely perceptible breeze, drifting snowflakes can quickly be whipped into a blinding blizzard of whites, stranding all movement.
There is another form of death that was hidden in the plains. When the cold war's fears justified them, cement pockets were installed along the Canadian border. Many of the installations were decoys, left empty. But enough were filled to turn sparsely populated states into the equivalent of world nuclear powers. They contained Minuteman missiles. It was never clear whether the name was given the people sending them, the weapons themselves or the intended targets. Neither was it ever sure which of these "silos," as they were called, were the more empty.
Antelope, like white-tailed deer, don't comprehend fences. To them, webbed wire, galvanized steel -- human assertions of sovereignty -- are minor nuisances in the run of open range.
So a herd grazed within a Minuteman compound, brown compactions of speed and grace dotting the snow, oblivious to anything but the possibility of frozen grasses. A doe stood with one leg on the cement lip of the missile tube, looked up and, content that her observers posed no threat, put her head down once more to continue her foraging.
The empty dreariness of every day accommodates us to continuing conflict. Their competing claims make it difficult to distinguish between peacemakers and peacebreakers. In the end, violence continues to cycle on itself, victims and victimizers rolling over one another in an unbreakable embrace.
Isaiah presents a vision of divine intervention. Having chosen them for the sake of the other peoples of the world, God has sent the children of Abraham and Sarah to carry this promise to the nations. Not all of the people saw what Isaiah did, peering through the obscurity. But as he looked over his people's shoulders, he saw God's future: a time when the cycle of violence will be broken, when all of the peoples of the world will follow Israel to Mount Zion, there to be taught by God. Though the form differs, Christians share this expectation: God will break through the strife, reforging weaponry to culture his creatures. Thus an antelope's nonchalance will be more than a glimpse of God's intention -- the whole creation will abound in his peace.
