ADVENT SUNDAY
2 December 2018
9.30am Parish Mass
I think its fair to say that in the past week it has become clear that whichever way you voted on Brexit, the chances are your going to feel a little disappointed. As is perhaps inevitable, the deal (if it makes it through parliament) is a pale shadow of the promises made and the dreams dreamed. Most days at Evening Prayer we pray for the Prime Minister and the Cabinet (accepting that these days the latter is a somewhat changeable collective) – and I would exhort you to pray for them as well. And it is as the Brexit negotiations reach a climax, if not a conclusion, with all the attendant gain-saying, argument and the Bank of England’s doom-laden predictions (or should I say possibilities rather than predictions!) - it’s in this gloomy miasma that we enter the season of Advent and begin another liturgical year in the life of the Church.
Last Sunday was the feast of Christ the King, a relatively new introduction to the calendar in 1925 thanks to Pope Pius XI. It was a deliberate counter-balance to the rising tide of nationalism and secularism across the world, and particularly in Italy under the growing dictatorship of Mussolini. So it’s not at all out of place for us to see Advent Sunday as a counter balance to the current political climate. In the midst of the pessimistic and the problematic, we announce a season of hope and anticipation. Of course last week’s feast of Christ the King knocks sideways the Prayer Book focus of ‘Stir Up Sunday’. The trad collect is preserved as the post communion prayer, but the ‘stirring’ isn’t really about the Christmas pudding mix, but rather the sense of hopeful excitement that Advent brings.
Having said that, the traditional themes of the Advent season are Death, Judgement Heaven and Hell (which could feasibly be section headings in the Withdrawal Agreement coming before parliament in 9 days time!), and the true sense of excitement is often subverted by a frenetic preparation for Christmas. But what we are meant to be stirred up and excited about, what we are preparing for, is the opportunity to encounter and welcome Christ. And of course in that sense, Advent is a particular season, yes. But it ought to be a continuous thread that runs through our worship and spirituality throughout the year, and throughout the whole of our lives. Stirred up and hopeful. Ready to welcome Christ.
That same sense of encounter is the urgent climax of today’s gospel. “Be alert at all times” Jesus warns his disciples, “praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.” In Luke’s version, Jesus has just predicted the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple – a cataclysmic destruction of the very symbols of God’s reign, God’s majesty and the places where God was to be encountered. It’s dramatic and apocalyptic language. Jesus not only warns of earthly catastrophes, but says they are but symptoms of a greater cosmic event which will shake the very heavens. And amidst the clouds of chaos, the Son of Man will be seen coming in great glory. In the chaos, in Christ, there is hope.
Verse 32 most likely reflects the expectation of the early Christians as much as it may the words of Jesus – “Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place.” Clearly that generation witnessed the fall of Jerusalem in AD 70, but not the ultimate physical return of Christ. That evaded them – as it has evaded Christians ever since.
Christ has died. Christ is risen. And yet still we look forward to when Christ will come again. And as we look forward we are stirred up in hope as we welcome Christ among us: in friend and stranger, in word and sacrament, in bread and wine.
But its not just about us. It never has been, and it never will be. We prepare to receive Christ the King in the babe of Bethlehem; the one whose power and majesty fills the heavens comes to us the frail vulnerability and pathetic dependency of a new-born. And let’s note now, before Christmas comes, with its sentimentality and skewed traditional memory which in fact isn’t much older than this late Victorian church building – let’s note that the story of Christ’s coming is not sentimental, but scandalous. Not comfortable, but controversial. Because even in the manger, the Christ we prepare to welcome, himself welcomes all the wrong people. The unexpected and the inexcusable. Stinking shepherds in the lowest paid and least-valued jobs. Mysterious foreigners who risk their lives as they travel thousands of miles and dare to cross boundaries and cultural divides in the hope of a better future.
Today is the beginning of the Church’s year. So why wait till January before you think about your New Year’s resolutions? We (you) have the hope of Christ. How are we (you) going to share that hope with others in the year ahead? We (you) are challenged again to encounter Christ, the Son of Man – in our worship in church, and in our work in the world. How are we (you) going to respond to that challenge? What needs to change? What needs to be done?
“Be alert at all times” Jesus warns us, “praying that you may have the strength to before the Son of Man.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.