Around this time of year, we start to ask the question, “Are you ready for Christmas?”  We may feel different ways about this question, and no doubt we’re in different states of readiness – whether we’re talking about being materially ready, mentally ready, spiritually ready.  I saw a meme recently that said, “Am I ready for Christmas?  I’m not even ready for tomorrow!”  Ready.  The motto of the Canadian Navy is “Ready Aye Ready.”  The “Aye” here has a couple of meanings.  One is “Aye,” as in “Aye, Captain.”  Ready, yes, ready in other words.  The other is in the poetic use of the word “aye” which means “always.”  Ready.  Always ready.

Are you ready for Christmas?  Are you ready for Advent?  What does this mean for the follower of Christ?  What’s the difference between the two?  I came across this definition from Dr. Lester Ruth, a historian of Christian worship at Duke Divinity School – “The simplest way I have to distinguish between Advent and Christmas is that Advent uses the word 'come' as a longing petition, expressed in anticipation, whereas Christmas is a commemorative reflection on how the Lord has come in Christ's birth and thus the trigger for a new redemptive order has begun.” 

We are reminded quite pointedly in seasons like Advent that we, as followers of Christ, are a people who wait.  We are a people who are called to wait actively and alertly.  We are a people who are called to wait watchfully.  A people who remain awake.  A people who wait in hope.  Let’s ask God for help as we prepare to listen to God’s word for us today. “Our Shocking Hope” is the name of today’s sermon.  If you’ve been spending time with us here at Blythwood, you know that talk of hope and songs about hope and prayer about hope is not new or surprising.  At least, I hope it’s not surprising!  We lit the candle of hope today, and I like that the hope candle burns on its own.  There’s something defiant about it burning there on its own.  There is something defiant about our hope in a world that seems so completely and utterly devoid of hope – whether we are talking about geopolitics, economics, personal situations, relationships.  I hardly have to explain what those are.  We know what they are if we’re paying attention to the world and if we’re paying attention to ourselves and those around us.  How are we to live in hope rather than despair?  How are we to choose hope rather than despair? We turn to Isaiah 64.  We call out.  We cry out.  Even in the middle of seeming indifference on God’s part, inaction on God’s part, inattention on God’s part.  If those words shock us I think that’s good.  We may need to be shocked, and I think we can handle naming how doubt might manifest itself.  Even in the middle of our doubt, we cry out.  “Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down…”  In the previous chapter, the cry had been “Look down from heaven and see…”   The terms have been elevated.  The people of Judah (some of them anyway) had returned.  The place was in ruins.  The temple a desolation.  Injustice ruled the day.  The rich preyed on the poor.  Worship of God had become meaningless or God was ignored altogether (hyperbolically speaking because obviously someone is calling out to God).  “We have all become like one who is unclean and all out righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth.”  “There is no one who calls on your name or attempts to take hold of you, for you have hidden your face from us…”

The cry is “Come, Lord.”  “Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down so that the mountains would quake at your presence…”  We sing it.  “O Come O Come Emmanuel.”  The name of the other song.  Jesus taught us to pray it.  “Your Kingdom come.”  Paul ended his first letter to Corinth with it.  Maranatha.  “Come, Lord,” or “The Lord has come!”  This was an ancient Christian greeting, maybe we should bring it back in some way (“The Lord has come!  Come Lord Jesus!)  The Bible ends with such prayer.  “Amen, come Lord Jesus.”

As we prayer that prayer, “Amen, come Lord Jesus,” we remember.  We remember what God has done to save His people.  When we remember, we are not so much reminding God as reminding ourselves.  When we remember, we’re not simply talking about bringing something to our minds, we are talking about a choice we make and a practice that we carry out – a practice that is nurtured in our worship together.  Listen to the words of the prophet – “When you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.” (64:3)  God’s word came to a people he had called to himself from a mountain wreathed in fire and smoke.  God had delivered his people from subjugation with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm.  God made a way through the sea where there was no way.  “From ages past no one has heard, no ear perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you…”  (64:4)  The prophet then makes things very personal as he calls out to God “…who works for those who wait for him.” (64:4b) He declares “You meet those who gladly do right, those who remember you in their ways.”   (64:5)

God you have worked good for us.  God you have met us.  How have you seen those truths in your own life?  I want us to take some moments to reflect.  How has God worked wonders in your life?  Awesome deeds that you did not expect.  Something that is beyond anything you could have imagined.   Something that you know did not come from you – it could only have come from God. 

How has God enabled grace in your life?  How has God enabled compassion or justice in your life?  I’m going to invite us all to reflect and share if you like.  Hit pause.  Share with us, share with someone.

My own answer here.  God has enabled forgiveness in me that did not come from me.  God has worked reconciled relationships in my life that are nothing short of miraculous.  Say something here about the assurance which the one who calls on God has here.  You are our Father.  You are the Potter.

“Oh, that you would tear open the heavens and come down…”  Two thousand and five hundred years or so after these words were written down, they take on a new meaning, don’t they?  We remember and celebrate when the heavens opened, and an angel choir was heard by a group of shepherds.  Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace among those on whom his favour rests.  We commemorate Christ’s coming, but that’s not all we have to be ready for.  As we celebrate hope in Christ this morning we bring to mind and bring to our worship our wondrous hope.   “Keep alert,” says Jesus.  “Keep awake.”  “And what I say to you I say to all,” says Jesus, “Keep awake.”

Jesus is talking about the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.  I do.  Do not be frightened by the imagery in this passage.  It doesn’t reflect a threat from God but a promise of good.  Jesus and his followers are in Jerusalem before the events which will take place in Jerusalem.  Jesus has told his followers that the Temple will be destroyed.  They ask him when this will happen and what will be a sign.  Jesus take the opportunity to talk about the end of the Temple and the end of the world as we know it.  The first event happened in 70 AD when the Romans destroyed the Temple of Jerusalem.  The second event is what we await and we don’t know when it’s coming, nor are we supposed to.  Things will be hard.  Wars and rumours of wars.  Earthquakes.  Famine.  Family fighting against family.  False messiahs.  False prophets with pointing to signs and omens to lead you astray.  Persecution.

Take heart, dear sister, fear not, dear brother, as we sing.  The Holy Spirit will help you.  The call from Jesus is for us to endure.  To hold fast.  We need language to shake us up.  The sun will be darkened and the moon will not give its light.   This is not a threat but a wonderful promise.  The precursor to the Son of Man coming in clouds, with great power and glory.  The precursor to the vision of the city that we come back to time and time again; the new Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.  The renewal of all things.  Every tear wiped from every eye.  Death no more.  Mourning and crying and pain no more. No temple in the city because the temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb.  No need of sun or moon to shine on the city, because the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the lamb.  The nations walking by its light.  The gates never shut.   

When?  It is not for us to know, but we are called to pray “Come Lord Jesus” and we are called to wait in hope.  Someone has described our hope like this: “…at the same time, we hear the promise that the master is near. Not as a threat, but as a promise. We are not alone. What we see in front of us is not all that there is. History is heading somewhere. We may not know where exactly, except that it is someplace called the Kingdom of Heaven. Or as Jesus was fond of describing it, it is Life. And that is what we long for in the end, life. Life in all its fullness and meaning, life in all its joy and promise. That’s what is coming; that is what is promised.”

Our hope is active.  “Keep alert,” said Jesus.  “Keep awake,” said Jesus.  “What I say, I say to you all: keep away.”  Keep the truths of hope, peace, joy and love in Christ in front of us.  Keep the truths of the Kingdom of God, which has come and which is coming in its fulness, in front of us.  Keep the hallmarks of the new creation – hope, peace, joy, love – in front of us every day.  Every day.  There are two Advent devotional readings we are making you aware of.  Sit with one daily (or both even).  Be part of a worshipping community (this one or another one) that is waiting together in expectant hope.  Listen to how Paul echoes Jesus’ words at the end of his letter to the people of Corinth: “Keep alert, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong.  Let all that you do be done in love.” (1 Cor 16:13-14)

May this season of Advent find us in a state of readiness or renewed readiness for our King who has come, and who is coming.  Let us signal our intention to be wakeful, watchful, and hopeful as we come around the Lord’s table in love.     

Amen