This morning
we’re faced with an interruption, or at least what appears as an interruption
in our four-week orderly progression from Advent to Christmas. What we have is
a rather incomprehensible Gospel reading in which John the Baptist suddenly
develops doubts.
Who could
really blame John for his doubting, though? He’s languishing in prison, not
seeing much of anyone, and then when he finally does see his disciples he asks
them to find Jesus. He asks them to find Jesus and make sure. “Are you the one
who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”[1]
In the midst of his despair, John asks for proof, for a sign that all his
labors have not been wasted, and that his prison cell is not full of despair
but full of hope.
Aren’t we the
same way, really? We say we believe; we even believe we believe, and then
despair overtakes us. We wait to be filled with hope. We wait for news from the
doctor, we wait and watch someone we love suffer, we wait and watch a child
struggle, we wait in grief while we mourn a loved one, we wait for an answer
that never comes. We wait in the gap between what we believe God has promised and
for God’s promises to be kept.
What comes in
today’s Gospel is a word that refuses to wait, a word that leaps out at us
despite all our doubts and fears and sorrows. A word of hope that cuts clean
against all the prevailing data and interrupts our story of disbelief and
despair.
So yes, Advent
is about waiting. And, Advent is a time of remembering, remembering God’s
promises, the ones for which we are still waiting, and the ones in which our
waiting is fulfilled in hope.
If you think
the blind cannot be made to see, just ask members of our own congregation who have
had cataract surgery. A hundred years ago people with cataracts simply went
blind. If you think the lame don’t walk, ask anyone in this congregation who
has had knee or hip surgery. A hundred years ago knees and hips were not
replaced; they just stopped working. And lepers? There is only one leper colony
left in the world today. Leprosy is almost eradicated. If you think those who
mourn for the dead have no hope, listen to their stories of finding new life
and hope in the midst of death. Do the poor have good news brought to them?
Some times. Some times. Not enough, never enough, but some times.
Are we there
yet? No. Are God’s promises being kept? Yes. Yes. Yes!
But remember
this: in this season of waiting, of keeping watch, of being wakeful to God’s promises.
This is how we wait, as the writer of the Letter of James tell us. “Be patient,
therefore, beloved, until the coming of the Lord. Strengthen your hearts, for
the coming of the Lord is near. Beloved, do not grumble against one another, so
that you may not be judged. See, the judge is standing at the doors!”[2]
Interrupt our despair with your hope,
O Lord. Fling wide the doors! Let him in! Let him in! It is he for whom we are
waiting. Amen. Come Lord Jesus. Come. AMEN.
The
Rev Nicolette Papanek
©2016
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