Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Sometimes, We Can See The Stars (Luke 21:25-36)

Right now, I want to run to the manger. I want to kneel at it and see the face of the newborn baby Jesus. I want to feel the warmth of the moment, and be comforted once again this year that my savior has finally been born. While the mall and the big box stores keep reminding me that the commercialism of Christmas has arrived in their slick advertisements and greased up sales pitches meant to relieve my purchasing anxiety, it just makes me want to run that much faster to the manger to see that Jesus has finally come. But I would be disappointed to see how dark it is at that manger.

No one’s there yet. No one’s arrived. There’s no glow or warmth there yet. From here to there, I can’t see the manger. A billion miles of darkness separates me from it, and I want to be led, I want to be shown the way, and I want to be brought into the baby’s presence. But if all I see is darkness, how will I know where to go? How will I know how to get there? This is the first Sunday in Advent. It is a time from here to the manger where you and I are to prepare, reflect, and wait. It’s an important time for each one of us. It’s a time to stand in the darkness and look for light.

At best it’s difficult to see the light when your head is hung in exhaustion and you are desperate to be redeemed. Yet in the gospel reading, Jesus is speaking to people who know full well, in their history as a people, about redemption. These are Exodus people. These are Passover people. These people have a history of being squeezed out of Egypt, Babylon and Rome. To these people, redemption is the aching of their hearts. It’s their dream. It’s their collective cry with their hands stretched out saying, “O God, rescue me. Deliver me. Bend Your ear toward me, O God, and in your righteousness save me.”

Jesus is speaking to people who want to be set free. With his return to earth, merging heaven to it, Christ comes to finalize the kingdom where the righteousness of God will at last fill the earth. In that coming of God’s redemption, when the merging of heaven and earth take place Jesus says to his followers, “stand up, and raise your heads, because your redemption is coming.” When life is coming apart at the seams, your redemption is coming. When life is toppling over and falling down fast, your redemption is coming. When life appears to be without a future, your redemption is coming. The coming of God’s redemption is good news for people whose life is nothing but bad news. Right now, this is good news for we who are standing in the darkness looking for light.

It’s as if Jesus is saying to each one of us today, when things in your world are at their worst and they couldn’t seem like they could get any blacker or heavier, guess who’s coming to be with you? Guess who shows up? God arrives.I love the image in the parable that Jesus tells the disciples, “Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves, you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near.”

Now, this image might be difficult to envision right now since we are at the beginning of winter and all the leaves have fallen to the ground, but next spring, trees all around us will begin to sprout new leaves, flowers will begin to break out from the ground, grass will begin to grow in all of its color and thickness. The fragrant smells of the trees, flowers, and grass all come alive. It is symbolic of spring that as the change of season comes, so too does new life. New life arrives in all of its color, beauty, and change. When Christ comes to merge heaven and earth, when he comes again, new life will begin in all of its color, beauty, and change. New life will arrive. Redemption is coming. This is the promise of God. The message of Advent is one of promise. God promises that in Jesus Christ, there is a future. There is a future where redemptive new life takes place. God will do this through Christ. For all who trust the promises of God, this news is reason enough to wait.

There’s an ancient Persian saying that reads, “When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.” There’s something transcendent and mystical about going outside this time of year at night, and looking up at the heavens, when we see the stars in their brightest and most magnificent light. Yet in order to see the stars most clearly, it has to be the darkest.

I remember driving on a crisp, winter night at the end of December to go see Karen for Christmas. So there I was driving west on this lonely rural highway 17 between Edmore and Adams literally in the middle of nowhere, and I just happened to look to my left. And what I saw made me hit the brakes, pull my car over, and get out to see. There in front of me, across the entire black winter sky were the brightest northern lights I had ever seen in my life. The purples, and blues, and greens were all jumping, and dancing. I stood there silently and took it all in. I must have been there for 20 minutes just staring at this amazing masterpiece of God. To this day, I’ve never seen the northern lights as bright and intense as they were that night.

Jesus reminds us that when our world is at its most blackest, when life is as dark as its going to get, “stand up, and raise your heads, because your redemption is coming.” As we wait, prepare, and reflect on the Advent of God’s coming, we have a lot of darkness to navigate before we reach the manger. It can seem tiring, stressful, or restless. And yet, I am reminded that even in the darkness of my life and yours, there’s only one light that leads us to the manger and it’s the star that hangs above it. It’s a star that leads us through the darkness of our waiting. It leads us through the blackest of days and nights that we face. It leads us by its brightest and most intense light. This light overcomes the darkness of the world, inviting it to raise its hopes, to raise its expectations, to raise its awareness, and to raise its vigilance.

This light leads us through this Advent darkness to see the one who carries out the promises of God on behalf of a world that cries out for liberation. In this Advent darkness, we cannot deny that nations remain torn and fragmented by bombs, tanks, and check mate politics. We cannot deny the devastation of disease, AIDS, and malnutrition on the babies of this world. We cannot deny the selfish disregard for future generations in hijacking natural resources for our own mass consumption here and now. We cannot deny the proliferation of global problems that remain unsolved by humanity’s faults. For the world and its problems, it cannot get any darker. But we also cannot deny that God is faithful to Jesus Christ, that Jesus Christ has a future and that our redemption is entwined with his future; a future that leads us through this darkness by a star.

This light guides the world through its darkness to see whose plans he holds. And once we get to the manger, we’ll know everything will be alright. As sure as the promises of God remain, redemption is coming.

My friends, peace always be with you. Amen.

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