Theme: The Christian tradition invites us to celebrate 3 advents the 4 weeks of advent. It would help your sermon if you wore some kind of “garment” that signified your ordination or calling.
The Word-Made-Flesh . . .
Exegesis of Romans 13:11-14
It seems strange that as the church’s calendar enters into its most hopeful, anticipatory season, the first of our four Advent readings turns once again towards that final Day of Judgment and end-time scenarios. Yet the eschatological words from Paul to the Roman Christians has a decidedly upbeat tone. Paul’s message is laced with urgency because “the day is at hand” (v.11). Rather than comment on any social upheavals or political affairs pertaining to this fast-approaching new age, Paul makes his message absolutely personal. The cause for excitement in response to this new “day” is no less than this: “our salvation.”
Romans 13:11-14 begins with the Greek idiom “kai touto,” which serves to flag the introduction of new material that will further validate Paul’s previous words (the unit from 12:1- 13:10). Everything Paul has been discussing is now to be “put into practice” because of the approaching changes in circumstances. This is a “time change,” but not merely some cosmetic clock-face “springing forward” or “falling back.” This new challenge facing the world is a revolutionary time-keeping change from “chronos” to “kairos.” Paul stressed that Christians live at the crossroads of time: living both in the old age, where sin and suffering hold sway, and living in the new age of the Spirit, where the faithful are transformed individually and communally. “Understanding the present age” (v.11), Paul insists, requires disciples learn how to harmonize these two simultaneous realities.
Many scholars surmise that Paul has used an established baptismal hymn or instructional text as the center of his first exhortation in verses 11-12. The admonition to “wake up” for “the night is nearly over; the day is almost here,” and the directive to “put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light,” make up the specifics of this possible hymn. As was common in ancient literature, “sleep” has a generally negative connotation. To “wake up” described a positive correction. Paul is exhorting wakefulness for “Salvation is nearer now than when we first believed” (v.11). In Paul’s reckoning, every new day takes disciples further from their first confessions of faith, thus bringing them closer to the day of complete salvation and transformation. “Kairos” time evolves more with each day, no matter how great the passage of “chronos” time.
In verse 12 Paul elaborates on the dual presence of “the night” and “the day.” Though the “night”–-in other words, the old, evil, broken ways of the world--still surround the faithful, the “day” is almost “here” (“engiken”). These dim pre-dawn moments constitute the optimum time for rising and readying oneself for “the day” that is about to burst forth. In order to be wholly prepared for the moment the new day dawns, action must be taken in the pre-dawn murkiness. Paul exhorts his readers to “put aside” or, more strongly, “cast off” the “deeds of darkness” and exchange them for “the armor of light.”
Paul would never promote casual “pajama days,” like our kids get occasionally at school. In the dawn of a new “day,” disciples need to dress for the occasion. The supplanting of the old age with a new age involves conflicts between the forces of “light” and “darkness.” Preparing for this face-off demands special preparation: in this case, “armor” (“hoopla”) of light.
The dark powers that disciples must armor themselves to confront are spelled out with greater specificity in v.13. Paul presents three pairs of behavior he equates with a life of darkness: 1) “orgies and drunkenness;” 2) “sexual immorality and debauchery;” and 3) “dissension and jealousy.” Four of these six -–“komai” (revelries), “methais” (drunkenness), “aselgeiais” (sexual sins), and “zelo”” (jealousy)—-are also found in Galatians 5:19-21, identified there by Paul as “works of the flesh.” Paul’s Roman audience knew well these works, being able to observe them first-hand every night in the streets, taverns, and homes of Roman citizens. Significantly, Paul finds the bitter and community poisoning acts of “dissension and jealousy” as darkly sinful as the more easily identified boisterous sins of drunkenness and debauchery.
Conversely, Christians are called by Paul to live “decently, as in daytime.” Our behavior should stand up to the scrutiny of both the bright, broad daylight of the world and to the standards of a life lived in the light of the approaching “day of the Lord.” The “armor of light” Paul commanded the faithful to “put on” in v.12 is now revealed to be nothing less than “the Lord Jesus Christ.” Paul’s language may suggest familiarity with the tradition in Greek drama of Paul’s day where actors changed characters onstage by swathing themselves completely in a new, different robe. The all-enveloping fabric cloaked the old identity of the actor, enabling him to transform himself fully into the new character he was about to portray.
For Christians to “clothe” themselves “with the Lord Jesus Christ” means that we take on a new character, the character of Christ, which enables us to live in light while yet surrounded by dark deeds and evil intentions. Paul also speaks of “putting on” Christ in the context of baptism (Colossians 3:9-10; Ephesians 4:24), the first action taken at the begging of a life of faith. Now as faithfulness is lived out each day, it is by continually “putting on” Christ that brings light into each day, no matter how darkness presses at and oppresses them.
Those clothed in Christ, those living in the new dawn of the Spirit, are given a final imperative by Paul: not to “think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh” (v.14). Although men and women of faith are still living in the flesh, they are protected from living “according to the flesh.” The Spirit’s “armor of light” shields those who wrap themselves in its transforming power. The “desires” of the flesh lose their ability to destroy and tear down.
This is the “new day” to which Paul is looking forward.
. . . Dwells Among Us: Coming Alive to the Text
Here is a sure-fire, Advent season test to determine how old you are.
Is time now rushing past you faster than you can imagine?
Or is time creeping and crawling along, slowly dragging on its belly, torturing you with its puny progress?
If you’re a child, Advent is an eternity, a seemingly endless stretch of December days and waiting for Christmas.
If you’re an adult, especially a normal, hurried, harried adult, the four short weeks of Advent leave us breathless-—not with anticipation, but with exhaustion.
Time is relative. If you don’t believe me, believe Albert Einstein, who didn’t like the phrase “everything is relative,” but enjoyed playing with it, like in this explanation of relativity to a reporter: “An hour sitting with a pretty girl on a park bench passes like a minute,” Einstein quipped, “but a minute sitting on a hot stove seems like an hour.”
Christmas proves time is relative. The more relatives coming for Christmas, the faster it speeds by.
Or here is another proof of relativity: “Black Friday.” As retailers keep trying to pump up profits, “Black Friday”—-the kick-off shopping day for the official Christmas buying-frenzy-—has been turned into the longest day of the year. A few years ago just a couple of big chain stores began opening early. They offered special sales between the hours of 7am and their usual opening time of 10am. Then doors began opening at 6am. Then 5am. Then this year it was 4am. You heard right: 4am.
But that wasn’t enough for one huge mall outside Seattle. At this mall the entire place opened at 12:01am, with all the stores prepared to stay open until Saturday at 10pm. “Black Friday (so named because merchants hoped a strong showing on that day would put them “in the black” for the whole holiday season) is now more apt a name than ever. The biggest sales are conducted in the blackness of night.
In this week’s epistle text Paul had some particularly pertinent things to say about “darkness” and “light,” about “night” and “day,” about preparing for one reality, while living in the midst of another. Paul recognized that the all-too-human ostrich tactic of “If I can’t see you, you can’t see me” was an easy occasion for sin. Under cover of darkness evil deeds seemed invisible and unknown.
Paul picked some easy human targets of bad behavior, after-dark activities as popular in the 1st century as in the 21st century-—drunken revelry, sexual immorality.
But Paul also put “quarreling” and “jealously” into that same category of wickedness. Of all the “fleshly” sins we are capable of committing, it is often those accomplished by a sharp tongue, a biting bitter remark, a subtle stab of nastiness, that most effectively douse the light and hope in relationships and communities.
Paul wants to shine a bright light on all our activities, all our words, all our behaviors, bringing everything done by those who confess Christ into HD (high definition) focus. Although Paul uses the contrasts between light and dark to illustrate his discussion, ironically Paul’s point is that for Christians there IS no night vs. day, no dark vs. light. Since Christ’s arrival on earth, since Christ’s life among us for our sake and “our salvation” (v.11), we live in a different world than that of night and day, or dark and light. Christians live in a pre-dawn life, in the overlap of the ages, between the three stages of Advent.
That’s right, you heard it correctly. In the Christian tradition there is not just one advent we celebrate, but three.
The First Advent is the coming of Christ to earth.
The Second Advent is the birth of Christ in each one of us on earth.
The Third Advent is the final return of Christ to earth.
The liturgical calendar that marks this Sunday as the First Sunday of Advent announces the “First Advent”—-the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. It is really quite fitting that during this First Advent children and adults experience the passage of this time so differently. The First Advent is the first move from “chronos” to “kairos” time. The “chronos” time of the world, the passage of days and years, seasons and centuries, is overcome and overwhelmed by the breaking in of God’s presence on earth and “kairos” time. As we await the First Advent, we should not be counting out minutes, hours, or days (Advent calendars are fun, but are all about “chronos” not “kairos”). Rather we should be feeling a ground-swell of kairos expectation.
There is one kind of “alarm” clock you can buy that awakens you not with a buzz or beep. It gradually glows brighter and brighter as time passes. The change in light affects your sleep cycle and wakes you up naturally—-even though true “dawn” might yet be hours away.
This First Advent brought God into this world as the infant Jesus. Since the church lives in “chronos” time we make a point of celebrating this “kairos” event in a “chronos” way---on a particular day.
The Second Advent is a far less chronologically captured moment. The Second Advent celebrates Christ’s continued presence in our lives, our churches, our homes, our communities, our world. In today’s text Paul alludes to this on-going presence when he declares how “our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed” (v.11). The gift of the Holy Spirit, given to all, brings the power and presence of the divine into the everyday, each day. This presence is the impenetrable “armor of light” Paul counsels the Roman Christians to “put on.” When we “clothe” ourselves in “the Lord Jesus Christ” we wrap the Second Advent around ourselves.
I love Paul’s image of “wrapping” ourselves in this “armor” or “garment” of light. Have you ever noticed how, when a degree is conferred on someone who is entering a “profession,” there is some sort of special garment that accompanies the new designation? The garment signifies that the person wearing it is armored to fight evil in the world.
A medical doctor is garbed with a full-length white coat. It is while wearing this garment that the doctor wages war against disease and injury.
The newly “robed” Ph.D. wears the colors and stripes that declare war on ignorance and challenge the scholar to a life devoted to continued learning.
A police officer or fire-fighter gets to wear a uniform that battles the malevolent forces of our communities.
In the same way, Christians who “clothe” themselves in Christ are “armored” for the battles of the Second Advent. Living in the overlap, the “in-between times” of the new age between “now” and “not yet,” there are real and true powers of darkness that walk among us. In this Second Advent we feel the pull of both the “now” and the “not yet:” the “now” of sales on socks and stoves, diamonds and doodads and the “not yet” where dark December nights can pulse with power and peace and purpose in our families, churches, and communities.
There is, finally, a Third Advent, that final transformation of all things and the culmination of the fullness of Christ in a new creation. This is the Advent about which we can know the least, but for which we long the most. It is for this Final or Third Advent, the Maranatha Advent that we live according to the Second Advent in the knowledge of the reality of the First Advent.
Are you living all three advents this Advent season? Are you celebrating the First Advent—the birth of Christ? Are you living the Second Advent—Christ’s birth in you? Are you praying for that Third Advent—-the coming new creation, in which we are summoned not just to prepare for, but to participate in? Are you adventing----battling the forces of evil and injustice and wickedness in our world.
Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing:
Come, adore, on bended knee
Christ, the Lord, the newborn King.
Happy Three Advents, church.
Animations, Illustrations, Illuminations, Ruminations, Applications
“In the Midwest there is a version of the nativity story with an unanticipated conclusion. It is a true story about a nine-year-old named Wallace Purling. He was in the second grade that year, although he should have been in the fourth. He had difficulty keeping up, was a little slow and clumsy but was also very kind. The kids tried to exclude him from their games, but Wally hung around, ever the protector of the children at risk.
Wally so hoped to be a shepherd with a wooden flute in the nativity play that December. Miss Lumbard, however, assigned him a minor speaking part, that of the innkeeper. Wally got caught up in the timeless story unfolding on the stage as he stood, mesmerized, in the wings.
When the time came, Joseph tenderly guided Mary to the door of the inn. Joseph knocked hard on the plywood, and Wally the innkeeper was there waiting. Wally tired to sound brusque when Joseph asked for lodging. ‘Seek it elsewhere. The inn is filled,’ said Wally as he stared straight ahead.
‘We have asked everywhere in vain. We have traveled far and are very weary,’ Joseph tried again.
Once again, a stern-looking Wally reiterated the fact: there was no room in the inn.
‘Please, good innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with child and needs a place to rest. Surely you must have some small corner for her. She is so tired.
Wally relaxed his stiff pose and, for the first time, really looked at Mary. He paused so long that the audience began to get nervous.
The prompter from the wings whispered: ‘Be gone!’
Wally repeated the whisper: ‘Be gone.’
Joseph sadly put his arm around the pregnant Mary; she rested her head on his shoulder as the two slowly moved away. The innkeeper did not move. He stood transfixed in the doorway of the cardboard inn. His mouth opened, his brown furrowed, and his eyes filled with tears. And suddenly this Christmas pageant took an unexpected turn.
‘Don’t go, Joseph,’ Wally called after them. ‘Bring Mary back.’ Now Wally Purling’s face shone. “You can have my room.’
Was this a ruined Christmas pageant? Or was this the best Christmas pageant ever?
The story first appeared via Dina Donohue, “Trouble at the Inn,” in Guideposts Greetings (Carmel, NY: Guideposts, 2004), 3-5; as referenced by Jeanne Stevenson-Moessner, A Primer in Pastoral Care (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2005), 91-92.
Tid bits:
On a high bluff overlooking the Rio Grande river area in Texas, ancient peoples lived in caves to escape the cold evenings and the heavy rains. At night they found shelter in these high caves, protection from wild animals and other nomadic warriors. They spent their evenings telling stories of their hunting days, dancing in the light of night fires, and painting pictures on the cave walls.
A few years ago an artist legally collected the charcoal from these cave walls, and made jewelry from it. Pendants and earrings made of charcoal, wire wrapped in 14K gold and accented with a fire-colored citrine gem, were for a short time available for purchase along with a certificate of authenticity. They were called “Ancient Evenings–-Jewelry with a Story.”
Isn’t that beautiful: “Ancient Evenings----Jewelry with a Story.”
On an ancient evening long ago in Bethlehem . . .
A friend of mine from New Zealand, Mark Pierson, conducts each year an “Advent in Art” series. Each week someone from the congregation introduce the congregation to a piece of art that relates to the Christmas story. This takes place of the sermon. When it was daVinci's “Annunciation,” Mark ran color images of it on screens scattered in the worship space. Plus everyone received a postcard with the image on it plus the biblical text relating to it. Another week someone presented La Farge's “Halt of the Wisemen.”
Instead of having families light the Advent wreath, why not have a family introduce to the congregation a piece of art that relates to the Christmas story.
Here is a version of the 23rd Psalm that ought to be mandatory reading each day of Advent, and a unison reading each Advent Sunday.
The lord is my pace setter . . . I shall not rush
He makes me stop for quiet intervals
He provides me with images of stillness which restore my serenity
He leads me in the way of efficiency through calmness of mind and his guidance is peace
Even though I have a great many things to accomplish each day, I will not fret, for his presence is here
His timelessness, his all importance will keep me in balance
He prepares refreshment and renewal in the midst of my activity by anointing my mind with his oils of tranquility
My cup of joyous energy overflows
Truly harmony and effectiveness shall be the fruits of my hours for I shall walk in the Pace of my Lord and dwell in his house for ever.
--A version of Psalm 23 from Japan, as reprinted in Mother Teresa, Life in the Spirit: Reflections, Meditations, Prayers, ed. Kathryn Spink (San Francisco, Harper & Row, 1983), 76-77.