First Advent, Year B, 2005: 

     An exhausted looking man dragged himself into the doctor’s office.  The doctor checked all his vital signs and asked what brought him to his office?  “Doctor, there are dogs all over my neighborhood.  They bark all day and all night, and I can’t get a wink of sleep.”

     “I have good news for you,” the doctor said, rummaging through a drawer full of sample medications.  “Here are some new sleeping pills that just hit the market.  These work like a dream.  A few of these and your troubles will be over.”

     “Great,” the man said, “I’ll try anything.  Let’s give it a shot.”

     A few weeks later the man returned, looking worse than ever.  “Doc, your plan is no good.  I’m more tired than before!”

     “I don’t understand how that could be.  All my other patients are reporting startling results,” said the doctor, shaking his head.  “Those are the strongest pills on the market!”

     “That may be true,” said the weary man, “but I’m still up all night chasing those dogs and when I finally catch one it’s hard getting him to swallow the pill!”

     Or, perhaps you prefer the story about the Sunday school teacher who asked her little ones, as they were on their way to church service, “And why is it necessary to be very quiet in church?”

     One little bright girl said, “Because people are sleeping.”

      Well, you have probably heard the adage, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”  That’s good advice as we come to the First Sunday in Advent.  It is helpful to remember that we are recalling and participating in something that God started.  God will finish it.  Where we locate ourselves in this story is up to us.  Being granted free will contains within it the possibility of glory and the burdensome task of choosing how we will respond to this scandalous action God has taken. 

     I want to begin with a Danish fable.  I have shared it one other time in this community of faith. 

     In a time before time, but not so long ago, a spider slid down a single strand of web from the rafters of a barn and, using that strand, spun a beautiful web halfway down the barn.  It was a beautiful web that glittered in the sun, caught many flies and mosquitoes, and the spider grew sleek and prosperous.  Other creatures came from far and near to gaze at the wonder of such a beautiful creation.  The morning dew would cause it to sparkle in the shafts of sunlight coming through the cracks in the planks.  It was stunning and the spider strutted around proudly as the others admire what she had constructed.

     One day, wandering about her premises, she saw the single thread that stretched up into the darkness above her.  “What in the world is that doing there?  It seems so out of place.”  And she reached out and snapped it.  When she did so her beautiful web collapsed around her and together they fell into a heap on the barn floor.

     I would want to suggest to you that part of the purpose of Advent is to counteract our Christmas consumerism and materialism and hedonism and keep us from breaking our connection with the unseen Creator above.  Without that commitment, the fable may well come true for us.

     So, how will we approach our observance of Advent?  How can we resist the temptation to think that this is a story we created?  I offer two ways to spend this four-week period of time.  First, we can wait.  Waiting is passive.  We may merely sit, twiddle our thumbs, do a little dreaded shopping, and wait while the clock ticks and time moves slowly onward.  Unfortunately, many Christians adopt this approach to Advent.  Many others, for whom the Christian faith has no meaning, are not even waiting.  They do not believe there is anything for which to wait.  Existential despair and hedonistic pleasure-seeking are both responses for people who have given up waiting and have abandoned hope, except in some synthetic self-creation.  The strand that depends on waiting is terribly weak.  Waiting is one way to approach Advent.

     Or, we may watch.  God in Christ calls us to be people of courage, people of hope, and people who will watch faithfully.  Watching is active.  Watching brings more rewards than waiting.  Those who actively watch will receive more from this four-week period of preparation than those who just sit and wait.  Advent is a time of vigil.  This is the time during which Christians actively anticipate the coming of the Messiah.  This is the time to identify with those “who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.”  Advent is the time to renew family customs that transcend all the neon, glitter, tinsel, and lights that would divert our eyes from the vital message that “in the time of this mortal life in which your Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility.”

     In the musical play Zorba, there is a scene that reflects the spirit of active watching and the rewards that might come from it.  Zorba, and fun-loving Greek man and his English boss are mining on an island.  They live in an inn on the island that is run by a woman who has become very ill and is near death.  As she approaches her death she anticipates a visit from Zorba and the Englishman and she watches the door of her sickroom.  They finally arrive and stand by her bedside.  The boss searches for something to say to her.  In an attempt to be helpful and cheerful, the boss encourages her to think about getting well.  Zorba turns to his boss and challenges him.  “Tell her the truth boss, tell her the truth.”  After a brief moment of reflection, the boss takes the woman’s hand and says gently, “We have come to be with you because we love you.”

     Advent is that time when we, in our needful condition, watch for the Lord to come to us.  When that appearance happens we hear the same message, for God always tells the truth.  “I have come to be with you because I love you.”

     That message carries the most impact when we are actively watching rather that just waiting.  It also makes us aware who it is that supports us so that we don’t snap the connection and fall into a heap. 

     I hope we can stay awake during this Advent and watch.  If we find it impossible to stay awake, I guess in church is the best place to sleep.  Amen.