A Homily for the First Sunday in Advent

 

Now it is high time to awake out of sleep . . .

The night is far spent, the day is at hand.

—Romans 13:11–12

 

 

            What is the matter with us Christians?  Why are we the only ones who have not gotten the word?  The world is decking its halls with red and green, white and gold; and yet our hall is decked in somber purple.  In the world outside caroling can be heard everywhere, in supermarkets and shopping malls, on the radio, in elevators, even as telephone hold music; and yet in here we have left off singing even Gloria in Excelsis, and instead we have intoned the Litany.  The world is focused on tinsel and eggnog and presents; we are focused instead on the four last things:  death, judgment, hell, and heaven.

 

            The world is bright and merry because it knows Christmas is coming, and the world prepares for the coming of Christmas with parties and merrymaking and shopping, shopping, shopping.  But here we know that Christ is coming, and we prepare for the coming of Christ with penitence and fasting.  We Christians are a contrary lot.

 

            And we may well ask ourselves why we, as the Church, defer our joyous celebration, why we, as the Church, engage in solemn reflection while the world around us has already begun its celebration.  We may even ask why it seems so wrong to us to have a Christmas tree in the narthex—even for the best of causes.  What is Advent all about, anyway?

 

            Advent is our wake-up call.  We have been sleeping, and Advent is our ecclesiastical alarm clock.  “Wake!  Awake, for night is flying.  The watchmen on the heights are crying:  ‘Awake, Jerusalem, arise!’” 

 

            From time to time we recall here those “parables of the kingdom,” in which Jesus tells us what the kingdom of heaven is like.  There is recorded in the Gospel according to Saint Matthew this parable:

 

Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom.  Five of them were foolish and five were wise.  The foolish ones, when taking their lamps, brought no oil with them, but the wise brought flasks of oil with their lamps.  Since the bridegroom was long delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep.  At midnight, there was a cry, 'Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!'  Then all those virgins got up and trimmed their lamps.  The foolish ones said to the wise, 'Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.'  But the wise ones replied, 'No, for there may not be enough for us and you. Go instead to the merchants and buy some for yourselves.'  While they went off to buy it, the bridegroom came and those who were ready went into the wedding feast with him. Then the door was locked.  Afterwards the other virgins came and said, 'Lord, Lord, open the door for us!'  But he said in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.'

 

Most of Jesus’s parables do not have a “moral,” because the story makes the point.  But after telling this particular parable of the kingdom Jesus adds this warning:  “Therefore, stay awake, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” 

 

            “He comes.  Prepare, ye virgins wise.  Rise up, with willing feet, go forth, the Bridegroom meet.  Bear through the night your well-trimmed light.  Speed forth to join the marriage rite.”

 

            Saint Paul, writing to the Romans (and to us) sought to reinforce the message.  Jesus warned in the parable that he might be long delayed.  There were those in the first century who expected the second coming to occur in the lifetime of those who had known Jesus during his earthly ministry; and by the time Paul wrote this epistle, it had already been delayed 25 or 30 years.  How much more does the message speak to us, now that the Lord has tarried nearly 2,000 years?  “Now it is high time to awake out of sleep, for now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.  The night is far spent, the day is at hand.”

 

            How many of us have let our spiritual oil run low?  How many of us have seen our lamps sputter and go out?  How many of us have grown weary of waiting, and have drifted off to sleep?  How many have simply forgotten what we are waiting for?

 

            Advent is our wake-up call.  Advent is the watchman crying from the high places, “Awake, Jerusalem, arise!”  Advent is our opportunity to rub the sleep from our eyes, to refill our oil-flasks, to trim the wicks of our lamps.

 

            “The day is at hand: lets us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.”  A recurring theme in Scripture is that God is light, and that those who believe in God are the children of light.  In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth, darkness was upon the face of the deep, and God said, “Let there be light!”  And there was light, and God said that it was good.  In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God. . . . In him was life, and that life was the light of men.  And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not.” 

 

            Saint Paul wrote to the Ephesians:  “You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth. . . . Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness. . . .  Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”  And to the Colossians he wrote:  “With joy giv[e] thanks to the Father, who has made you meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light.”   And to the Thessalonians he wrote:  “You, brethren, are not in darkness, . . for you are children of the light and children of the day. We are not of the night or of darkness.  . . . But since we are of the day, let us be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and love and the helmet that is hope for salvation.”

 

            Likewise, Saint Peter wrote:  “You are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people; that you should show forth the praises of him who hath called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.”  And Saint John wrote:  “This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. . . .  If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship one with another, and the blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanses us from all sin.” 

 

            “Hark!  A thrilling voice is sounding.  ‘Christ is nigh,’ it seems to say, ‘Cast away the works of darkness, O ye children of the day.’”

 

            And what must we do to cast away the works of darkness?  Saint Paul told the Romans (and he tells us):  “Let us walk honestly, as in the day:  not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying; but put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh to fulfill the lusts thereof.”  And Saint John tells us:  “He that saith he is in the light, and hateth his brother, is in darkness even until now. He that loveth his brother abideth in the light, and there is none occasion of stumbling in him. But he that hateth his brother is in darkness, and walketh in darkness, and knoweth not whither he goeth, because darkness hath blinded his eyes.”

 

            Our Lord himself said:  “God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.   He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth truth cometh to the light, that his deeds may be made manifest, that they are wrought in God.”

 

            The Gospel lesson this morning reminds us that Jesus came to Jerusalem last time meek and riding on a donkey, surrounded by supporters waving palm branches.  But he will come again in power and glory, riding on the clouds of heaven, surrounded by legions of angels.  When he came to Jerusalem last time he purged the temple, casting out the money changers and pigeon-sellers.  When he comes again he will come to judge the quick and the dead.  When he came to Jerusalem last time, he came to die.  But when he comes again he will come to establish his kingdom, and to rule forever. 

 

            Let us then, today and throughout this Advent season, pray for God’s grace, that we may cast away the works of darkness and put on us the armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, that in the last day, when Jesus comes in his glorious majesty, we may rise to the life immortal. 

 

            “The king shall come when morning dawns, and light and beauty brings.

            “’Hail, Christ the Lord!’  Thy people pray:  ‘Come quickly, King of Kings!”

 

 

Church of Saint Mary Magdalene

Orange, California

02 December 2007