Christopher Thomas
First Sunday of Advent, Year B – 11/29/2020
Isaiah 64:1-9
Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37
We light the candle of hope, to remember the hope we have in Christ, for whom we must remain alert as we wait for his return.
Hope. And wait…
Hope. And wait…
Hope. And wait…
How those words are intricately intertwined, at once such juxtapositions of each other, each required of the other, for this most queer of journeys that we find ourselves on. Oh, you might think that the journey to which I refer is the journey of 2020, and that certainly has been, and continues to be, a journey of nothing less than,
Hope. And wait…
But the journey to which I speak is one that is much broader, longer, deeper, and wider. It’s the journey that was going on long before each of us showed up, you and I, continues, and will go on well after we depart, this love story of the co-creation that spun out from our creator God in Genesis 1:1 and continues through to today.
Hope. And wait…
It is the rhythm of life. We do it individually. We do it instinctively. We do it collectively. We do it in community. We don’t always do it willfully. This journey of…
Hope. And wait…
I was reminded again on a recent trip to the Nasher Sculpture Center of my fascination for the work of artist Richard Serra. I first experienced his work at MoMA, the Museum of Modern Art, in New York City, in 2007, when a retrospective of his work was presented as part of a grand renovation and addition to the museum space. I know virtually nothing about modern art, but you don’t have to know much to understand the experience, the journey that Serra wants to take you on with his artwork.
The interactive display consists of massive, undulating sheets of distressed steel that are probably 20’ – 30’ high forming a sort of maze, with no right angles, that the viewer wanders through in somewhat maze-like fashion. The sheets of steel masterfully control everything about your senses, what you can see and hear, the refraction of light, and sound. Art as experience. It’s very disorienting. Very disquieting. Almost unnerving.
It’s a disorientation of time that occurs if one is willing to “suspend disbelief,” to embark on a journey. Step out of the reality of Chronos, human time, of what the world around us tells us is common sense, what appears to be the case, and to wonder, what life might be like, if right degree angles didn’t always rule the day. What if what you expected wasn’t in fact the outcome? What if you challenged some of those long-held “this is the way we’ve always done it’s?” What if all that stuff that we’ve been labeling as fact and holding up as critical, well, really isn’t? What if we really could,
Hope. And wait…
Serra works in the vein of what’s known as “Process Art.”
“Process art is an artistic movement as well as a creative sentiment where the end product of art and craft is NOT the principle focus. The process refers to the formation of art: the gathering, sorting, collating, associating, patterning, and initiation of actions and proceedings. Process art is concerned with the DOING of art, the PROCESS, how ACTIONS can be defined as a work of art. Art as pure human expression. It entails inherent motivation, rationale, and intentionality. Process art is viewed as a creative journey, rather than a deliverable product.”
Suspension of disbelief as to what is possible as one gathers up all these pieces of stuff, sorting them, collating them, associating them, patterning them, and then doing something with them on this journey toward…toward…toward…
Well, it is the first Sunday of Advent, after all, the beginning of a new church year, and we start our annual pilgrimage toward Christmas, watchful waiting, bidding “O Come, O Come, Immanuel,” God among us. That bidding seems particularly poignant, necessary, in 2020. That light that we know radiates from the manger, we need that light so desperately now! God, where are you?
As we hope. And wait…
How we wait, the active pursuit of “wait,” within the wait, is where we in actuality find the shards of the dawning light of hope. How we do that “wait,” in co-creative ways, speaks to what we believe we will find at the end of the journey. That is why Jesus tells us to be “woke,” to remain vigilant, to keep watch, to remain in hope; 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. Nevertheless, God is coming!
Vestiges of hope exist all around us. Anticipation is palpable. The co-creative process is taking place, even now, in the spaces between us and God!
The branches of the fig tree are tender, leaves poised to spring forth! A new administration prepares to take office; vaccines are just around the corner. These things, in-and-of themselves, are just glimmers of new life, waiting to take hold. How are we waiting that says we’ll have something tangible to place at the foot of the manger when finally we arrive?
The truth is, we interact with that Christ-hope every single day, in all the ways that we engage God’s creation around us. How we treat those who are not us, or not like us, says everything about where we recognize the hope of Christ in our wait for God’s birth. Our vigilance in the wait is found in the myriad of ways we recognize Christ all around us, even now, right here in the “Corona-tide” of 2020. Are we, and how are we responding to the poor, and the neglected, and the needy, and those without power, and privilege, and voice? How are we responding to the injustices and indignities that are occurring all around us, even now? All of that speaks to how we are waiting for God’s imminent return. All of that speaks to the fact that we believe God is returning. All of that speaks to the fact that we believe that God, in actuality never left. God is all around us, right here, even now!
Maybe, rather than hope, then wait, the more realistic reality is we wait IN hope. Wait actively in hope. Wait by doing all these things that say we believe that God is all around us, in us, working through us, to create God’s peaceable “kin-dom.”
What if while we are journeying toward God, God is journeying toward us, with the very same intention…
Wait. In hope.
Amen.
