Sermon for the first Sunday in Advent 2006
Like a similar passage in Mark, today’s Gospel forms part of Jesus’ response to discussions about the end times. For some people curiosity about the end has continued unabated down through the centuries despite Jesus’ encouragement to concentrate on other aspects of the faith – like getting on together in the here and now. The Thessalonians seem to have taken speculation about the end to new heights as some downed tools as they waited for the second coming. With no useful work they went about annoying others with their theories. It is this attitude that St Paul confronts when he counsels: “As for the times and seasons, brethren, you yourselves know that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.” Who could blame them for being a little curious? This hope of the completion of God’s plan must have been an exiting prospect for the early believers. After all, they were alive during the time chosen for God’s coming to earth in the person of Jesus.
Well, haven’t we all let curiosity get the better of us? Once when Jenny and I were touring in Europe we landed in a Hotel outside Venice. (As some blokes are want to do) I began by exploring the features of our room. I checked out the TV, air conditioner and coffee making facilities. Then I came across a most curious thing. In the shower cubicle there was a cord hanging from the ceiling. A cord, in the shower – like one of those old light switch cords. I stood there transfixed for a while as I wondered whether I could get away with tugging it. Then my curiosity got the better of me. I pulled the cord. While I was waiting for the result of my effort the phone rang. I picked it up. There was no response on the other end. I went back to my cord and tugged it again. The phone rang again. This time there was someone on the other end: “You pulla the cord?” asked the person on the other end. I hesitated but in the figured I’d been caught red-handed. “Yes.” I admitted. “You no pulla the cord. The cord is for old people when they fall over in the shower. You no pulla the cord!” OK, I no pulla the cord. When we went down for dinner Jenny and I discovered that just about every other bloke in our tour group had pulled the cord!
But wait a minute! If I had not pulled the cord I would not have found out what it was for! I think curiosity is necessary for this life to which we have been called. Sure I could have asked, but where is the fun in that? That is in spite of one of the most frightening stories I ever heard as a kid. Pandora’s Box. Like Eve in the Biblical story Pandora gets the blame for letting loose all sorts of evils on the world. There is an interesting twist to the story. After all sorts of pain and suffering emerge and inflict themselves on humanity and Pandora closes the box she opens it again! This time something else comes from out of the box, concealed among the evils of the box is the little voice of hope.
Whether or not we would rather while away our time in the peaceful ignorance of companionship in the Greek tradition or in the perfection of the Garden of Eden in the Judeo Christian tradition we are forced to face what life presents both good and bad. How many times might we have been accused of opening a ‘Pandora’s Box’ only to forget about hope? There is no going back to the simple world before the box was opened, just as there was no way back for humanity after eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge in the Garden of Eden. If we go around pulling cords we have to take the consequences. Even after the devastation wrought on the world by Pandora there is hope. It seems that curiosity and hope go together.
Hope is crucial for humanity and paramount in Christian life. “Faith, hope and love abide”, says St Paul. Hope is made real in the forgiveness God offers us through Christ. How many times have we strayed from God’s presence only to find God comes looking for us “in the cool of the evening” as Holy Scripture pictures it in the Book of Genesis? In Scripture the hope we hold is pictured in various and imaginative ways. Jeremiah harks back to the golden era of David and says that is what it is going to be like again. This descendent of David will bring justice, righteousness and safety to his people. The followers of Jesus are curious about events and times. The Thessalonians are so hopeful they believe they can just sit back and wait.
We believe this era of the Branch of David has been brought about through the incarnation. We can say these words so glibly sometimes. We are saying that this Davidic figure, whom the faithful people of Israel hoped would come for centuries, and still do hope for, has already come. The two gospel writers most concerned with the birth of Jesus, Matthew and Luke, both make the link between Davidic expectations and Jesus. Matthew begins his Gospel with the words: “The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the Son of David, the Son of Abraham.” In Luke’s Story of the birth of Jesus the journey to Bethlehem occurs because of the connection between Joseph and David. “And Joseph also went up from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which was called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David.”
In Jesus many had their hopes raised. Many felt their hopes dashed too. There is that wonderful snippet in the first chapter of John’s Gospel where Philip comes to Nathaniel and said, “We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, son of Joseph,” Do you remember Nathaniel’s response? “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” To which Philip replied, “Come and see.” When he does meet Jesus, Nathaniel is convinced Jesus is the King of Israel.
Then there were those whose hopes were dashed. Jesus really drew the crowds with his preaching and healing. The hope he offered took a different turn when talk of the cross emerged in his teaching. His own family believed he had gone mad and came to take him away. The crowds begin to disappear and will eventually turn on him. His disciples betray, deny and abandon him. The main reason for this change of heart was that this new David was not like the old – he was not an earthly king and military strategist. There would be no military uprising in Jesus ministry. He had never thought to bring one about. Jesus’ revolution was directed towards the hearts of people. It aimed to bring about the Kingdom of God – a Kingdom not of this world but one to which all were invited to enter. Some caught this vision and held onto the hope that the Kingdom begun in Christ would be completed. To others of Jesus time, like many today, this hope seems like “pie in the Sky when you die.” They wanted action now. As recently as the 1960’s there were those who proclaimed the death of God. Some thought we had no more use for Biblical fairytales than for Greek myths. Many people deserted the churches and finding greater hope in technology, careers, families or possessions. Now if not dead, these Gods are extremely ill - offering even less hope, in themselves, than Pandora’s Box.
The hope that the Christian Church offers the world is much more specific and active than the hope that emerged from Pandora’s Box. Christian expressions of hope are intimately related to faith and love. We have faith in the God who cares about creation, and who calls us into loving relationship with God and with each other. Faith, hope and love are active ingredients in our lives not just condiments to be sprinkled on top when we want to spice things up.
I want to encourage us this morning with two examples. I remember in our first or second Christmas together, as we approached to time for the Midnight Mass, I remember quite clearly how the town was ringed with bushfires and the air thick with smoke. We could see it and smell it. I wondered if anyone would come. I wondered if everyone would be out fighting fires fearing for their properties. I did not know what to expect. Then in the heat people stated to arrive and the church began to fill. We sang our carols and we had communion and celebrated the birth of our savior in the midst of all that was going on around us. Now we are again ringed by fires and the drought goes on and on. We continue to pray for rain – even in the midst of good natured jibes about the lack of effect of our prayers!
And we can still offer great signs of hope. Yesterday Jenny drew my attention to the new Mudgee Mud Map, an aid to tourist information. On the cover are two pictures of St John’s Church. One is from years gone by and the other is recent showing the newly painted exterior of our church building. Our church building is being used as a sign of the hope that exists in the community. Our 165th Restoration Appeal Fund was meant to offer the wider community the opportunity to contribute to the revitalization of our church and organ. I believe the photograph on the Mud Map recognizes the results of that partnership or covenant.
In Advent we hold out to the world the hope of the word made flesh, as well as the future realization of the Kingdom in its fullness. Rather than downing tools and waiting passively for the end, which may be some time yet, we have offered real signs of hope and I pray we will continue to do so.
