Perseverance

Do you know what’s going to happen, say, eleven days from now? That would be December 10. I think it’s a Wednesday. You could check your calendars. Perhaps some of you have something special scheduled that day. Or maybe it will be a routine Wednesday, just like every other Wednesday in your particular life. In the end, of course, each of us would have to admit that we have absolutely no way of knowing what will happen eleven days from now. No matter how rigidly we may keep to a routine; no matter how diligently we keep our calendars. We don’t know what that day will bring.

Do you know what’s going to happen twenty-six days from now? At first blush, that one’s a bit easier isn’t it? Twenty-six days from now will be Christmas Day. Most individuals and families have plans or traditions for Christmas Day that it would take an act of God to disrupt. You know exactly where you’re going to be and what you’re going to be doing on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. And then, of course, there is that act of God that will happen twenty-six days from now. It happens every year on December 25, absolutely without fail.

The wonderful Advent hymn tells us what we can expect to happen twenty-six days from now. It’s not just something that usually happens; it’s not something we hope will happen; it’s not a routine, or a tradition, or a personal expectation. It is a certainty. We will be set free. We will find rest. We will be released from fear and sin. We will be delivered into God’s kingdom. No matter where your personal tradition takes you; no matter whether this turns out to be a routine or an unusual Christmas for you personally; no matter what you may have on your calendar for December 25, 2003. Jesus will be born into this world of our hearts and flesh. It will happen. Twenty-six days from now we know what will happen.

Which is why one of the themes of Advent is anticipation. Advent is about knowing what’s coming. I know that is one reason I love Advent. Advent taps into the wondrous childhood feeling of anticipation, anticipation of what Christmas will surely bring. And, although my vision of the Christmas gift has matured a bit over the years, I have never lost the feeling of eager anticipation. Advent is like a champagne bottle just before it’s opened… with excitement and joy just barely restrained, on the very brink of bubbling forth. And during Advent we count down the days, one by one, week by week, until the Christmas promise is fulfilled. Anticipation.

As Christians we know with certainty what will happen twenty-six days from now. But that brings me back to my original question. What about eleven days from now? We don’t know what December 10th will bring into our lives. By December 10th we will be closer to Christmas; only fifteen days will then remain until the Christmas birth of light and peace in our lives. Our Advent anticipation will be more focused, more taut, more eager than it is even now.

But is that all we can say? Is December 10th, for example, nothing more than a step towards Christmas? What if December 10th turns out to be a day like the one described in this morning’s first reading? As the wind beat and ripped around yesterday, I could imagine a time of portents like Zechariah describes. As the wind seemed almost strong enough to move solid ground, it didn’t seem too far a stretch to imagine that a mountain might split in two, or that a time of endless day might come, or that rivers might reverse their course. I’ve never seen the Penobscot as high as it was yesterday afternoon as I drove along South Main Street in Brewer. It must have been high tide, but that south wind had pushed it up and up. What if something cataclysmic happens on December 10th or 11th or 16th? All of a sudden Advent’s feeling of anticipation wouldn't mean much. It would be only the present time that mattered. We would find ourselves living, not looking forward in anticipation of the future, but looking only at the present moment before us. In such a moment does Advent have anything to offer us? If we have lost the feeling excited anticipation that is so characteristic of Advent, is anything left? Does Advent offer us anything in the present?

Yes. A lesson in perseverance. Advent teaches perseverance. Perseverance in the present. Whatever the present may be.

Anticipation is a quality of Advent, a way of describing the experience of Advent, a feeling that Advent often engenders. The feeling of anticipation is a quality of Advent that I cherish very much. But perseverance is the lesson of Advent. Advent’s gift to us is to teach us about perseverance; to encourage us to persevere no matter what.

Persevere even in a time when mountains split, and night turns to day. For in that time, Zechariah writes, in that time the Lord will become King over all the earth; on that day the Lord will be one and his name one. Persevere even in a time like the one described in Luke’s gospel… a time when nations will be confused by the roaring of the sea and waves and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. In that time, Luke writes, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.

Persevere. Because whether or not you feel the bubbling excitement of anticipation in your heart, nevertheless the promise of Christmas is unshakeable and eternal.

As you know, we Episcopalians don’t decorate the church during Advent; we don’t sing Christmas carols. This may seem like pointless deprivation, but it is part of Advent’s lesson of perseverance. Advent teaches us that the Christmas promise is real even in those times in our lives when our hearts do not sing with joyous carols or our spirits do not glitter with holiday trappings. Persevere. Christmas nonetheless lies ahead. Advent teaches us that if we persevere through the dark times in our lives, we will find light on the other side of the darkness. When we feel trapped, afraid, confused, bored, distracted, heartbroken, lonely… persevere. After all, never forget that Jesus was first born into a world of darkness and trouble. Christmas will come to our world. It doesn’t matter whether our days are filled with satisfaction and joy or anxiety and distress. Christ will be reborn in our hearts, in our world. This year. And next. And the next.

None of us knows, amid the circumstances of our own lives, what any day will bring. Advent teaches us to persevere. To persevere through the good times and the difficult times. Listen to a prayer from the Prayer Book. It’s meant to be said by anyone who finds herself or himself in a hard place. But I think of it as an Advent prayer.  It could certainly be said by anyone at anytime.

Give me the Spirit of Jesus. That is the Christmas gift. And Christmas always follows Advent. Thanks be to God.

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