Advent Sunday: Active Waiting
Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Isaiah 64.1-9, Psalm 80:1-8, 1 Corinthians 1.3-9, Mark 13.24-37
You have a gift. There is something within you, that is waiting to change the world. You have a gift.
1Corinthians is St Paul’s angry letter. He’s got a church which is fracturing over who to follow, that’s competing in immorality to prove how much greater is the grace they’ve received, where the rich don’t look after the poor, where the old-hands mislead the new people; where the congregation boasts of its piety; where the externals are exaggerated and genuine faith dwindles.
This is Paul’s lead in. He’s starting gentle. God is faithful – He’s reminding himself. God is faithful, though in the church at Corinth anything goes. And then in an early hint of what will be a feature of the letter, he writes of the richness of grace they have received so that they are not lacking in any spiritual gift.
This is what I want to say this morning: ‘I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus, for in every way you have been enriched in him, so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift.
It should be an exciting thing to hear. You are not lacking in any spiritual gift. The Corinthians were nothing if not enthusiastic. I’m sure they heard that with delight.
We are not lacking anything. And I say this because even as a nation the British are truly adept at playing themselves down, and I think we especially are people who just get on quietly with things. We wouldn’t see ourselves as people who change the world. Which is why I’m reminding you that everyone at St Margaret’s has a gift and is by degrees, in our way, changing the world. But I want you – just a little bit – to be excited about what we can do together.
2020 is unlikely to figure in anyone’s best years. Apart from Jo Wicks. But in times of crisis you learn something. You also unlock rare opportunities for change. A past US President, in the wake of the Wall Street Crash and Great Depression, said in 1933:
Happiness lies not in the mere possession of money; it lies in the joy of achievement, in the thrill of creative effort. The joy and moral stimulation of work no longer must be forgotten in the mad chase of evanescent profits.
Financial crises present opportunities to re-evaluate. Our country is being drawn into one at present and we have not yet felt the full cost of this pandemic in those terms.
The same president continued:
[This generation of self-seekers] have no vision, and when there is no vision the people perish. The money changers have fled from their high seats in the temple of our civilization. We may now restore that temple to the ancient truths. The measure of the restoration lies in the extent to which we apply social values more noble than mere profit.
It’s good to hear an American president talking about social values. I’m unsure about whether 30s America succeeded any better than the UK after 2007 in restoring the temple to ancient truths. But next year will be critical for many in how we look after one another. Crises tend to turn some people out to widen their sphere of who must be cared for. They turn others in to defend themselves against the apparent threat. As Christians there is no question. To only look after our own interests is to have no vision and where there is no vision the people perish.
We are called to widen our hearts and widen our circle. We are called to build and share a vision. I want us – with all our gifts – to have a vision.
Now there are three ways of being a part of church. You can think that church is here to minister TO you. That church offers something to fill in that missing part of your life, that need, that gap in society. Or you can think that church is here to minister FOR you. That it fulfils some sort of role in society on your behalf. A service provider. But I want to say that church exists WITH you. That we are the church; we are the body of Christ. That all of us from the smallest child to the most venerable elder are an equal member of the body of Christ – whether you’ve made it into this building this year or not, we are here to minister with each other. We are here to be Christ for one another; me for you, you for me. Now is the time to get involved in building this house, in building the kingdom of God.
People underestimate what a church can achieve. One person certainly has limits. It’s hard on your own. But it’s easy to blame governments as having all the power and being ineffective. That road leads to cynicism and as the theologian Jim Wallis said: ‘Cynicism is the buffer which permits us not to make the changes that we know need to happen.’ It’s easy to be cynical: Cynicism makes for pleasant conversation.
But I know that our church can change the world. We don’t have just to be a quaint members club, a Sunday sideshow. We are not lacking any spiritual gift. We are not lacking anything.
Advent is traditionally the season for waiting; but this is not a passive complacent hanging around, as our Gospel tells us: ‘keep awake – for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight or at cockcrow or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly.’ Are you letting a gift sleep? This morning, this season of Advent, is a moment to rediscover our gifts. No one is excluded from this. No matter how old or how young, there is a role to play. There are hearts to lift. Even at death’s door you can be an inspiration to someone.
Faith should teach us to have a longterm view. But Advent is not about simply waiting. The Christian life is not a retreat. But it is about having patience. About finding the opportunity within difficulty, the personal development within adversity, the spirituality that has room to grow in uncertainty and yes also suffering. A view – and here is the most difficult part – that might even stretch beyond the end of our own life.
Advent, like Lent, is usually a time for introspection. For self-discipline, improvement – a small retreat within the year. This year I ask you instead to be watchful. To keep awake. Not for yourself or the coming of the Lord. But for suffering and unhappiness. For the struggle of others. Let us look this year to seek out the lonely, the anxious; the distressed; those who are lacking in food, shelter or essentials. Make this a watchful Advent where we find those within our community who need support. Let us be a friend, a community to those in need.
This Advent: Let us find Christ in the heart of our neighbour, and let us be Christ to the person we meet.