Sermon for Advent 1 – Isaiah 64:1-9 & Mark 13:24-37

This week begins a new church year with the season of Advent. Advent means “coming.” Which means we’re all waiting. Waiting for something we need. Something we’re desperate for. What are you waiting for right now? Is it hard to wait? We pray. We try to remember Jesus’ promise to come again and set everything right. But it’s been 2000 years and where is he? Have you ever prayed for a sign to keep going? I have. Patience has its limits. Who hasn’t had that desperate moment when we finally lose it and ask God “why won’t you do something?”

This is what the prophet Isaiah wants to know, in our Old Testament reading for today. See, Jerusalem was a trainwreck. The king just cares about his own power. Judges wanting bribes. Rich getting richer. Poor getting poorer. Even the temple priests just turn a blind eye as long as they’ve got smells and bells and burnt offerings.

Do you think God’s angry? But God chose these folks, and a promise is a promise. So God keeps sending prophets to warn them. Repent. Turn back to me. Or I’ll kick you out from the land I gave you. Do they listen? Nope. So Babylon marches in and conquers, and carts folks off away. They’re exiled. The prophets were right. Now they’re strangers in a strange land, so they lament. We had it all, and now we’ve got nothing.

But here’s the thing. Babylon didn’t take everyone. They just take the powerful folks, because they’re useful. They leave behind all the poor tenants and sharecroppers to rebuild as best they can. So imagine this. The folks in power have been squeezing you. You see them captured. You remember the prophets’ words about exile. What do you think? Thank God! It’s a sign! You figure God’s finally doing something. Didn’t Isaiah say “no eye has seen any God besides you, who works for those who wait for him.”

Now, a few generations pass, then Persia suddenly conquers Babylon. They send the exiles back home. The problem people. But on the way, they get to thinking. “Free at last! God works for those who wait for him. Hey! This must be a sign from God! Maybe God wants us to make Jerusalem great again.” So they get to Jersualem with their big ideas and are they welcomed? Nope. Now there’s a fight for control. Everyone thinks they’re entitled. Two political parties who think God’s on their side. The exiles and the never-exiled. And this is where Isaiah comes in. He knows the exile was supposed to be a come-to-Jesus moment for everyone. A call to repent. But everyone’s just back to their old ways.

So Isaiah begs God to do something. “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence.” Just give us a sign, Lord. After all, “when you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence.” He blames God. “But you were angry, and we sinned; because you hid yourself we transgressed.” But he also confesses “There is no one who calls on your name, or attempts to take hold of you; for you have hidden your face from us, and have delivered us into the hand of our iniquity.” Isaiah’s struggling with the fact that the exile didn’t change anything. But who could blame God for not showing up when no one calls? Worse, every time God shows up, folks co-opt it into whatever their agenda already was. Alternative facts.

I think we have the same problem. What disasters are we facing? War, famine, the most active hurricane season on record. Now, those are far away and easy to ignore, but we can’t ignore the pandemic and rising death toll. Though we argue that God is always merciful and how could a loving God do this? I confess I don’t want to believe it. But how do we really know? Because faith tells us? But then how do we know the difference between faith and denial? Who could deny that we’re just as political and divided as Jerusalem, or how much we resent being told what to do? The virus keeps us angry, frustrated, and even physically separated. Doesn’t that feel like exile? Or maybe we ignore it and roll the dice. Do we feel lucky? But Isaiah doesn’t believe in luck. He says, “We are the clay, and you are our potter.” God gives and takes away. We forget God’s sovereign will is fearsome. Who would dare pray “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down?” When the mountains quake, we shatter.

But the good news is that God has torn open the heavens and come down to us, in Jesus, God’s only Son. No mountains quaked. No nations trembled. Just a lowly manger and barely anyone noticed. Definitely not what Isaiah had in mind. Thank God for that, because Jesus didn’t come to condemn. He came to heal and forgive and even give up his very life for our sake. Crucified and died, but risen after 3 days to come to all of us whether we call on his name or not. We don’t take hold of Jesus, but he takes hold of us and never lets go.

And that’s when Jesus makes a promise to us. He sees our fighting and divisiveness. Our anger. Our suffering. So he says, “but in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light.” We know these are dark days, but Jesus sweeps away that darkness like a curtain, and he reveals his coming with great power and glory. “To gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven.” Who’s elected? You and me and everyone we know, because Jesus came for all of us. Of course, we want to know when all this will happen. We’re sick to death of the status quo. We don’t love Jesus’ answer. “About that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” But here’s the thing. It’s so defiant. Jesus is reassuring us that none of the crap we’re dealing with will have the last word. There’s something much bigger coming, and Jesus gives us faith to see bits and pieces of it right now. Just enough to give us hope for what could be. We don’t have to wonder if God’s doing something. We know God is.

Now, it should be enough to know that God’s at work, but of course we still want to know what WE’RE supposed to do. Now, it’s not like Jesus really needs to tell us to go feed the hungry, care for the downtrodden, wear our masks. We know that’s crucial, and the constant news feed of epidemic need won’t let us forget. So Jesus equips us with something the news can’t give. We get to share his Word. That’s why he says, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.” His word is forgiveness, and folks don’t realize how much they needed that until they get it. It’s always a surprise since there’s so much accusation and blame flying around. But to know that we’re more than anything we’ve ever done or left undone? That we’re all children of God? That’s more earthshattering than even a quaking mountain. Thanks be to God.