1st Sunday of Advent, 2021 - Waiting in Hope

Waiting. The season of Advent is about waiting … waiting for what is not yet but will be.

Waiting does not come easily for most of us — waiting in line … waiting for the light to change … waiting in stop-and-go traffic … waiting for that special occasion to finally arrive … waiting for what we want but don’t have.

Waiting is often frustrating. Waiting leaves us feeling powerless … at the mercy of time or circumstances beyond our control. It confronts us with something that is “out of our hands.” It leaves us with time on our hands … unproductive time … time we can’t spend as we would like … time that seems wasted. When we are waiting, the best it seems we can do is to mark time. “I’ve been stuck in this traffic for 30 minutes.” “It’s 26 days until Christmas.”

Waiting is about the future … that which is not yet.

The waiting of Advent is about a promised future. It is about a future that is different from the present reality … from what is. It is about a future in which life is shaped by and patterned after the ways of God — what the Hebrew prophets called justice and righteousness (Isaiah 9:7). It is about a future in which power is used to bring life into being and nurture it to maturity (Isaiah 2:2-4) as opposed to power being used over, down against others for our personal benefit at their expense (Mark 10:42-45). It is about a future that God is working to bring into reality — a new heaven and earth (Isaiah 65:17-25; Revelation 21:1-7). “The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this” (Isaiah 9:7).

Because it is about what is not, but will be, the waiting of Advent is waiting in hope.

Hope is the traditional theme of the first Sunday of Advent. Hope is the forward look of faith … the quiet confidence and settled assurance that what is not yet, will be. Our hope is grounded in God and God’s faithful love. The LORD will not give up on us or abandon us until what God has promised becomes the reality of our lives — Christ-like spiritual maturity for us individually and, for creation, a new heaven and a new earth shaped by and patterned after the ways of God (Romans 8:18-25).

The Spirit is God’s guarantee to us of this future reality. The Spirit’s work in our lives, producing spiritual transformation and progress, solidifies our hope. “Hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us” (Romans 5:5). Our hope is not just longing for things to be different. It is more than wishful thinking. Our hope is a quiet confidence that the LORD will bring into reality what God has promised.

The waiting of Advent is more than just marking time. It is not a time of feeling powerless as though things were beyond our control. Rather, the waiting of Advent is a time of working to bring what is not, but will be, into reality … here, now. It is a time for living the ways of God in the midst of what is. It is a time to pray for and work for the kingdom to come on earth today, as it is in heaven.

And so we wait … and work … in hope! 

Christ the King Sunday, 2021

Reassurance. Hope. Encouragement. These words come to mind as I think of Christ the King Sunday. 

Christ the King Sunday is the last Sunday in the liturgical calendar year. The following Sunday, the liturgical calendar begins again with the first Sunday of Advent.

Christ the King Sunday is a celebration with a forward look. It reassures us that Jesus is indeed Lord. It points to when “every knee shall bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 3:11) — to when the kingdom of God will come on earth as it is in heaven (Matthew 6:10) — to when righteousness and justice will become the way of the world, producing endless peace that permeates all of creation (Isaiah 9:7). It calls us to live with hope — that forward look of faith. It encourages us to be faithful in living the ways of God Jesus taught and lived. Christ the King Sunday and the hope it stirs are the antidote to those times when we grow weary and become discouraged.

There is much today in our political arena (in Texas and nationally) and in The UMC that spawns discouragement (at least, for me): the hostility-laced polarization — rigid, black-and-white, anxiety-driven thinking that arrogantly masquerades as being “right” — the pattern of dismissing and devaluing anyone who holds a different position, viewing them as “wrong” and less than — what appears to be a move towards authoritarian thinking and functioning (the product of rigid, anxiety-driven thinking) — the fear of diversity and refusal to give everyone equal standing — the trafficking in fear and so-called cultural wars — the abuse of power by those who hold positions of power in a shameless effort to hold onto power — the tolerance and even approval of attitudes and positions that were once considered shameful — the growing use of violence against those we view as “other” — the growing economic divide between the haves and have nots — what looks to me to be societal regression — the predominance of Christian nationalism — those who call themselves Christians whose attitudes and positions are contrary to what Jesus lived and taught — the impending “split” of The UMC and our failure to “maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:3).

I am aware that some (many) view the situation differently, but for me, these realities feel to me like I am swimming upstream, against the current. It is easy for me to feel out of place, having “nowhere to lay my head” (Luke 9:58). When I fail to ground myself in Christ, I grow weary of having to cope with having no place where I feel at home.

In the face of my weariness comes Christ the King Sunday. It is like a reset button for my attitude. It reassures me that Jesus is Lord even when what I call evil seemingly has the upper hand. It restores my forward look of faith, helping me see beyond what is to what will be, allowing me to live with hope — the settled confidence, the quiet assurance — that the kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven. And it encourages me to keep on keeping on, being faithful to live the ways of the kingdom and working to bring the kingdom into reality on earth, today.

This reassurance, hope, and encouragement are not just wishful thinking on my part. They are anchored in the words of scripture. The words of the prophet Isaiah put it this way: “The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this” (Isaiah 9:7). This yet-to-be reality is the LORD’s work. The LORD is actively working to bring the kingdom to reality on earth … even now, in the midst of all that seems so wrong.

And so I press on (Philippians 3:12-16).

Stopping Short of the Destination

It appears to be one of those throw-away verses of scripture — a seemingly insignificant detail recorded in the midst of far more important matters. “Terah took his son Abram and his grandson Lot son of Haran, and his daughter-in-law Sarai, his son Abram’s wife, and they went out together from Ur of the Chaldeans to go into the land of Canaan; but when they came to Haran, they settled there” (Genesis 11:31).

Terah was the father of Abram — whom we know as Abraham, the one with whom God first made a covenant, and the one to whom the Jewish people trace their origins. Our focus is immediately drawn to Abram because of his importance as our spiritual ancestor. Any reference to Terah is easily passed over. Terah lives in the shadow of his son Abram.  

But what the Hebrew Scriptures said about Terah catches my attention. Terah left his homeland of Chaldea (Babylon) to go to the land of Canaan — the land God promised to Abram, the land we refer to as The Promised Land. But on the way to Canaan, Terah stopped in Haran and settled there. Terah seemingly stopped short of his destination, that is, Canaan.

As I read this historical note, questions immediately jump to my mind. Why did he settle in Haran? Did something happen that caused him to settle for Haran instead of Canaan? Did he set out for Canaan because the LORD had called him the way the LORD later called his son Abram (Genesis 12:1-3)? Was Terah the one with whom the LORD originally chose to enter into covenant?

The text does not answer my questions. It only states the historical fact: Terah stopped short of Canaan, his original destination. The lack of answers to my questions leaves me to reflect on how we might do what Terah did: stop short on the spiritual journey.

Abram’s call and journey to Canaan — like the wanderings of the Hebrew people in the wilderness after their deliverance from captivity in Egypt — are precursors to and metaphors of our spiritual journey. We, like Abram and like the Israelites in Egypt, have heard and responded to a call to live in a covenant relationship with the LORD. That call puts us on a spiritual journey toward a promised destination. For Abram and the Israelites, the destination was the land of Canaan.

In popular theology, Canaan or the Promised Land is understood as a metaphor for heaven. In this kind of thinking, our destination is going to heaven when we die and, thereby, escaping hell. As common as this line of thinking is, it is not the biblical understanding.

The New Testament writers identified spiritual maturity — being conformed to the likeness of Christ — as the destination of our spiritual journey.  

The Spirit’s work is to transform us into the likeness of Christ (Romans 8:29, 2 Corinthians 3:18)).  Thus, the Spirit actively works to grow us up spiritually. The Spirit initiates our growth by teaching us the things of God that Jesus taught (John 14:26). The Spirit teaches us to think with the mind of Christ and the wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 2:7-16). That new way of thinking leads to the transformation of our hearts and minds by the Spirit (Romans 12:2). The result is a Spirit-empowered change in how we live. The Spirit not only orchestrates our growth, the Spirit is also God’s guarantee to us — God’s pledge or earnest money — that we will reach our destination of Christ-like spiritual maturity (Ephesians 1:13-14). Before the Spirit’s work is done, we will be like Christ (Ephesians 4:13).  

Which brings me back to Nahor who stopped short of his destination: is it possible for us to stop short of the destination of Christ-like spiritual maturity to which God has called us? Is it possible for us to settle down somewhere short of what God wants for us?

The Hebrew Scriptures tell the story of the Israelites who stopped short of the destination to which the LORD had called them (Numbers 13-14; Psalm 95:7-11). Eighteen months out of Egypt, the LORD sought to lead the people into the Land of Promise, but they were afraid of the inhabitants. They failed to trust the LORD to give them the land, rebelling against the LORD’s command and refusing to try to take the land. As a result, they wandered in the wilderness for another 38 ½ years until all of that generation had died. Their children and grandchildren were the ones who entered Canaan under Joshua’s leadership.

The writer of the book of Hebrews used their experience as a warning about stopping short of the destination of spiritual maturity (Hebrews 3:7-19). He described his readers as being in a state of prolonged spiritual immaturity (Hebrews 5:11-14) and called them to go on to maturity (Hebrews 6:1). He called them to build their lives around the spiritual truths they had been taught (Hebrews 10:19-25). He called them to be bold in taking their struggle to God, knowing that Jesus was a Great High Priest who could sympathize with them (Hebrews 4:15-16) because of the struggle and suffering he himself had endured (Hebrews 5:7-8).

The book of Hebrews clearly speaks of the possibility of stopping short of the goal to which the LORD has called us. And the writer describes for us what it looks like to stop short.

We stop short of the destination when we stop growing spiritually … when we resist the new way of thinking the Spirit is teaching us … when we cling to old ways of thinking and living … when we treat spiritual truth casually so that it no longer shapes our lives (Hebrews 2:1) … when we no longer practice the spiritual disciplines that nurture growth (Hebrews 10:24-25) … when we get comfortable with what we know, believing we are “right” … when we, like Terah, settle for less than God desires for us.

Terah set out from Chaldea for Canaan, but when he got to Haran, he stopped. He didn’t go on. He settled down. He stopped short of Canaan.

But, as for us, “let us go on to maturity” (Hebrews 6:1).

How We Sabotage Our Own Spiritual Development

Sadly, it seems, many of the opportunities we have to grow spiritually are sabotaged before they can bear fruit. They are sabotaged by a pattern that is inherent to our human nature. This pattern is reflected in the Apostle Paul’s admonition to the Thessalonians: “Do not despise the words of the prophets” (1 Thessalonians 5:20).

The catalyst to spiritual growth is learning to think differently. We move from an old way of thinking and living (the old self) into a new way of thinking and living (the new self) by learning to think differently (Ephesians 4:22-24). We are transformed by “the renewing of the mind” (Romans 12:2). We learn to think with the wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 2:7) and the mind of Christ (1 Corinthians 2:16) under the guidance of the Spirit (1 Corinthians 2:10-13). (See the previous two blogs.)

This catalyst is the work of the Spirit. The Spirit teaches us spiritual truth that confronts what we think and how we think. Prophets played a key role in this work of the Spirit. (In the New Testament, the term prophet was commonly used to refer to those who proclaimed God’s truth – what we would today call preaching) Thus, Paul urged the Thessalonians to not despise or reject what the prophets proclaimed.

Which brings us back to the pattern, inherent to our human nature, that sabotages our spiritual growth opportunities before they can bear fruit.

We humans commonly reject those things that challenge how we think. We use what we believe to judge what we hear. If it aligns with what we believe, we accept it. If it is different from what we believe, we reject it as false — not valid and not true. This pattern is so common that social scientists have given it a name: confirmation bias.

This common human inclination prevents us from hearing — much less accepting — the truth the Spirit seeks to teach us. It blocks the transformation process before it can begin. It sabotages the work of the Spirit.

The Apostle Paul seemed to understand this reality. In his exhortation to the Thessalonians, he wrote "Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise the words of prophets” (1 Thessalonians 5:19-20). We quench the Spirit — pour cold water on the Spirit’s work — by rejecting the truth the Spirit is seeking to teach us through the prophets.

One of the characteristics of discipleship is a teachable spirit – an open mind that is willing to think and learn. The word disciple means learner. As Jesus’s disciples, we are students who are studying the ways of God Jesus taught — the ways of the Kingdom — so they can shape how we think and live. One dimension of the Spirit’s work is to teach us what Jesus taught (John 14:26).

Living with a teachable spirit does not mean we accept everything we hear. It means we are open — willing to think — yet discerning. Paul taught this in his exhortation to the Thessalonians: “Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise the words of the prophets, but test everything” (1 Thessalonians 5:19-21).

Paul taught the Thessalonians to examine what they heard — to be discerning. Did what they heard reflect the character of God? Did it align with the life and teachings of Jesus? Was it an expression of grace and forgiveness or of merit-based thinking and living? Did it use power to serve or to control, to seek the other’s spiritual growth and maturity or conformity to a moral standard or religious law? Did it view and value, accept and embrace all as beloved children of God or was it an expression of us-them, better than-less than thinking and relating? Did it lead to the transformation of heart and mind (the interior realm) or focus on behavior (the external)? (These questions reflect the seven markers in God’s plumb line that I identify in my latest book God’s Plumb Line: Aligning Our Hearts with the Heart of God.)

Having examined what the prophets proclaimed, they were to “hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil” (1 Thessalonians 5:21-22). The truth they discerned was to determine how they lived … even when that truth called them to change what they thought and how they lived.

A teachable spirit, coupled with discernment, keeps us open to the Spirit. It makes us receptive to the Spirit's work. It keeps alive the opportunity for spiritual growth the Spirit offers us through the renewing of the mind. It prevents us from sabotaging our own growth in Christ. It is the antidote to prolonged spiritual immaturity (Hebrews 4:12-13).

A teachable spirit, coupled with discernment, is how we avoid quenching the Spirit and despising the words of the prophets.