On this second Sunday of Advent, we hear Paul's words to the church at Philippi, a church he knew well.
I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you, because of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.
It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because you hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God’s grace with me, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus.
And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God (Philippians 1:3-11).
Advent is, as we know, the season of waiting…but who wants a whole season devoted to waiting? We hate to wait.
In truth, we don’t have to wait.
Just outside the church doors, Christmas is everywhere. There’s Christmas music on. In fact, it’s been on since Halloween. Christmas cards are arriving, for the people who still send cards. We’re in the season of holiday parties and get-togethers with friends and family. There’s a job to do every day, to get ready for Christmas.
Why bother with Advent?
Why bother to think about waiting, when we’re busy already?
Oddly, God invites us to wait…practically sends us a personal invitation, with the season of Advent. God invites us to set aside the rush, the lists, the hurry, the overwhelming presence of Christmas and take a step back. God invites us to choose to wait.
Waiting is like building a muscle. The more we plan to do it, choose to do it, and commit to doing it, the better we get at it. Like woodworking, quilting, cooking, running, understanding football, or doing yoga, the more we do it, the better we get. Like all of those things, it’s a skill we develop. Advent invites us to let go of the frenzy outside us, and develop our gift for waiting on God.
As Paul wrote to the Philippian church, there was a lot in his mind to remember. The book of Acts, which tells about his time in Philippi, says that he came to the city and found a group of women down by the river, working away (see Acts 16:12-40). He met Lydia and a group of others. It was the sabbath day, but he found them at the river, so we have to wonder what it was about their work was so demanding that they worked on the sabbath. Did they need the money? Their job was dyeing cloth purple. This was a labor-intensive process to produce this rare, expensive cloth.
Maybe Lydia and her co-workers thought Paul would be a diversion while they worked. He could provide some entertainment to pass the time while they worked at this tedious process. Or maybe they were annoyed. They were working and talking, and here came a stranger to interrupt with a long monologue about some guy named Jesus ... a little first-century man-splaining.
However it came about, the story says in Acts that God opened Lydia’s heart to the news about Jesus.
Before he left Philippi, Paul moved on from Lydia and the women at the river. He was so overflowing with energy for God’s work that he healed a slave girl, casting the demon out of her. She had a spirit that allowed her to tell people’s fortunes, so once the spirit was gone, the fortunes were gone, and the money was gone. Her owners were not thrilled at her healing. They were angry because they had made so much money from her. As a result, Paul got slapped into jail in Philippi, survived an earthquake, and converted the jailer and his family to this new faith in Jesus.
All of this must have been in Paul’s mind as he writes to the church in Philippi. He pictures all of these people as he wrote. Lydia and the women, with their hands stained purple from their work dyeing the cloth. The slave girl, who didn’t ask to be healed, and had to find a new way to make a living. Her value didn’t come from telling fortunes anymore, so what did she find to do? Did the community of believers take her in? Did she ever discover her true worth as a follower of Jesus? Paul pictures the jailer and his family, with the smaller kids now grown big, and the bigger kids on to live lives of their own.
He can see them all in his mind, as he writes.
Whose face do you see in your mind, this holiday season?
Whose face shows up as you think about the presence of God in your life? Is it the parents and grandparents who taught you this faith we have, through their actions and words? Is it the boss who saw something in you and opened a new chapter for you? How about the teacher who made you do better work? Or the partner who accepted you just as you are, setting you free to grow in new ways?
Or is it the other kind of memory that comes to mind?
Is it the people who have hurt you, and the lessons you learned from that? The people who brought you unhealed sadness, betrayal, or disappointment that you’re still working on?
Or maybe there are other gifts, other people who come to mind. Think about the kids in your life who are such spiritual mirrors, reflecting back all of our flaws, as well as our gifts. Think of the faraway friends, who hold a place in your heart.
People missing from our lives make this time of year hard, too. The people who come to mind include family members lost to death. We miss them all year, but the pain is especially sharp at holiday time.
Paul wrote that he longed to see the people in Philippi who had given him so much, and there are people we long to see, too. Some will be home for the holidays, and others we won’t see until we all gather around God’s table someday.
With each passing year, we add more people to the gathering in our minds.
If you’re a Harry Potter fan, you know that his parents died when he was a baby, but feel very present to him throughout the books. The crux of the books is Harry’s battle to defeat the Lord Voldemort, who represents the forces of evil in the world. In one book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Voldemort engineers it so Harry appears in a graveyard to do battle with him. Some people are bothered by the idea of witchcraft in these books, but I understand that as a literary device that allows us to see another dimension of how things happen.
In this battle in the graveyard, Harry’s wand and Voldemort’s wand connect. The two wands are linked to each other, spinning a golden cord between them, and out of Voldemort’s wand come the people he has killed. They emerge as shadowy figures — like an echo of their former, living selves. First comes a boy who went to school with Harry, and then some other people who have been killed by Voldemort emerge. Each echo-y, shadow-y figure says something encouraging to Harry. “Hold on, Harry.” “Keep going.”
As he struggles to hold on, he knows who is coming next.
Finally, his parents emerge — his dad and his mom. They tell him to hold on, and then give him a piece of advice that allows him to escape. But when he needs them most, they are present with him.
The people we love and miss circle around us in the same way. They show up in our minds and we carry them in our hearts.
As we long for them, what are we to do?
Paul doesn’t give us any license to lose ourselves in sorrow. He takes for granted that this longing for people will always be part of our lives, whether it’s kids away at school or living their own lives, friends far away, or loved ones lost to death.
The secret to it, he says, is not hunkering down, but opening our hearts. “This is my prayer,” he writes, “that your love may overflow more and more.” Not that we may be safe, or free from trouble, or protected, but that our hearts are open enough to overflow with God’s grace, passed on from us to others. Not that we will never know loss and sorrow, but that our hearts are wide open, to pass on God’s love.
As we remember this Christmas, may we remember God’s great love for us. May we slow down enough to know God’s presence with us, in this season. May we become gifted at waiting, knowing that God is coming into the world again, and we want to be ready.
In the name of the Christ Child, Amen.
Prayer: Patient God, you know we hate to wait…and yet we need to learn to stop, and watch for your presence among us. We thank you for all of the people who have brought your spirit to us, and taught faith, character and truth. Make us faithful, we pray, in waiting, and full-hearted in our rejoicing. In Jesus’ name, Amen.