Rev. Nick Cheek
Isaiah 2: 1-5 and Matthew 24: 36-44
I hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving with friends and family. The Cheek house loves Thanksgiving for many reasons… the food, the football, the uninterrupted time I have with my kids, but we especially love Thanksgiving because it’s the time we begin decorating for Christmas. This year, we decided to have three Christmas trees. One in the living room, one in the family room, and one outside on the back patio. There are also small trees for each child’s room. I told Ashley I’m surprised we don’t have one on our roof. If you can’t tell yet… we’re a big Christmas family. In October, it’s normal for my son to wander into the kitchen, hair all over the place, rubbing his eyes, with the first words out of his mouth, “Hey Alexa, play Christmas classics.” And there it is. Bing Crosby in the kitchen before the sun is even fully up. And I’ll be honest… it makes me smile because he gets it from me. I love it too.
Ever since COVID, there has been an embrace of early Christmas. Have you noticed that? Scroll through Instagram or Facebook, and it feels like half the country pulled their Christmas bins out of the attic the moment the last Halloween pumpkin hit the trash can. This pull toward Christmas, this desire to start earlier and earlier, says something honest about the human heart. It’s not just about lights or décor or nostalgia. Something in us is longing for hope, for peace, for joy, for love. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, we’ve walked through another year where the world feels heavy. International conflicts are dragging on, politics are dividing communities, there is violence in our streets, neighbors living with fear, people stretched thin by rising costs, families carrying more emotional and spiritual weight than they let on. We long for good news. We long for a peace that is real. We long for a time when it’s just… easier… lighter… calmer in the world… and calmer in our hearts. And so we reach for hope wherever we can find it, in strings of lights. In Christmas songs and eggnog… in hot chocolate by the fire… in wreaths and window candles… in all these small sacramental things that remind us, even if just for a moment, that light does shine in the darkness.
Today, we begin a season that acknowledges our longing for light. Advent is a time of yearning, an expectant anticipation and cheerful preparation of God breaking into our lives. Advent is both deeply honest and helplessly optimistic. The season of Advent acknowledges the darkness of the world, that everything isn’t okay, that people are hurting, that life is difficult, painful, and challenging. But at the same time, Advent asks us to embrace a confidence that change is coming, an assurance that light is making its way into our midst. Advent puts us in touch with the part of our humanity that believes in miracles… this child-like faith that stretches us beyond what
we can see, stretches us beyond the human logic of what is possible, and invites us to believe with expectation that a saviour is on his way.
Our second passage from Matthew speaks of this watchfulness. Stay alert. Keep watch. Be diligent in searching for the coming of Christ. Matthew emphasizes the mystery of Christ’s coming. No one knows when or how Christ will break into our lives. It may come at an hour in which we do not even expect. Christ will show up, unannounced. There won’t be any bells and whistles, no flashing lights, no warnings. Christ enters into our world like a thief in the night, Matthew insists. The use of the word thief can be misleading. It is used not to describe theft, but to emphasize surprise… something that will catch us off guard. Theologian Debie Thomas describes Christ as a thief that slips past our defenses, breaks into places we keep locked, and surprises us with grace. Matthew speaks of a holy thief in the night who shows up unexpectedly, while we’re going about our ordinary lives, our ordinary routines: setting the table, answering emails, folding laundry, standing in line. The imagery of the thief reminds us that Christ’s coming is not something we orchestrate. We do not plan for it or control it. Christ comes on God’s terms and in God’s timing. Dietrich Bonhoeffer described Advent as “the time when the heart waits for a hidden visitation from God.”
Listening for Christ’s coming can prove difficult for us in December. The month ahead is often filled with joy but can also become overwhelmingly busy. We have concerts, school programs, office parties, shopping, decorating, and baking, cards to send out. Our schedules fill up, and our souls can go on autopilot.
There is a blog post from a woman named Nancy Davidge called “Tis the season of: Overload?” that emphasizes this business.
She writes, “I’m a creature of habit. Regardless of when Advent begins, to me, December 1 is the official start date of the season. Time seems to be in ample supply; balancing family, work, chores, and preparation for Christmas seems oh so doable. And then life happens. My mother is coming for the weekend and the guest room needs to be cleaned. I make my to-do list: shopping, decorating, making end of year donations. First on the list: ordering gifts online, decorating, and putting candles in the window. A work project takes longer than expected; the gifts aren’t ordered and the candles are still in the box.
And then there are the Christmas cards. I want to get them out before Christmas this year. I want to get everything on my list done immediately. I’m feeling overwhelmed. And it is only December 2. In this season of waiting, I struggle with balance.”
Perhaps some of you can relate to Nancy.
During all the holiday chaos, while everything around us seems to speed up, Advent takes us by the hand and slows us down. It quiets the noise so our souls can breathe again. It encourages us to reclaim our attention from the distractions of sales, traffic, and crowded schedules so we can remember what this season is about. It asks us to keep watch, to listen, not for some loud arrival or grand entrance for God, but for a whisper: “Peace… be still.”
And when we keep watch faithfully, we may discover Christ’s whisper showing up in the very places we tend to overlook. The whisper may come as a gentle nudge to reach out to someone who is lonely. It may show up in a checkout line when you strike up a conversation with a stranger and it ends with a smile and a “Happy Holidays.” The whisper might be the small courage you need to forgive someone whom God has been placing on your heart. Perhaps the whisper is your own voice telling you to lay aside your work, the to-do list, or the screens so you can spend time with your friends or family.
The whisper may come when you decide to stay after worship for coffee and end up in a conversation that makes someone else feel a little less alone.
It may come when a young parent is rocking their restless child at 2 a.m., and exhaustion meets a moment of tenderness and peace.
The whisper may also catch you off guard when you’re unboxing an old ornament from the attic you’ve misplaced for years and it reminds you of simpler times. It can also show up in gratitude for the little things: an early morning coffee during a sunrise, the warmth of fire, the smell of pine, the laughter of your children or grandchildren.
Ann Voskamp in her book The Greatest Gift writes about the Christmas she hopes to encounter each year: “I don’t want a Christmas you can buy. I don’t want a Christmas you can make. What I want is a Christmas you can hold. A Christmas that holds me, remakes me, revives me. I want a Christmas that whispers, Jesus.”
Doesn’t that sound good? Doesn’t that sound like the peace and joy we are hoping for this season? Friends, the truth we celebrate this Advent is this: The Word made flesh will dwell among us. The King of Kings, the Prince of Peace, is breaking into our lives. For to us a child is born, a son is given, and there is hope found in his cry, unfailing love found in his tears, endless grace found in his humility on a cross, and peace found in his everlasting presence. As we wait for the coming of Christ, we do so not out of despair but out of hope. This season invites us to realize a world that is blatantly in need of a savior, and we believe that one is making his way.
So church, keep your heart open in the weeks ahead. Stay alert. Keep watch for the whisper of Emmanuel, God with us. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.