Episcopal Church of the Incarnation

The First Sunday of Advent (C)

Jeremiah 33.14-16 Canticle: The Song of Zechariah 1 Thessalonians 3.9-13 Luke 21.25-36

May the Lord be in my mind, on my lips, and in my heart, that

I may rightly and truly proclaim His holy Word. Amen.

It’s conventional in a sermon for the First Sunday of Advent to remind everyone that it is not yet Christmas, and to contrast piety and expectation with the crass commerciality of this time of year. Such a sermon is conventional because it is true. However, repeating this truth does not address, really, the apocalyptic content which we find in the lessons for the season. If Advent is a season of penitence and expectation, it is also a season in which we are reminded that faith is something which we choose.

Watch. That’s what we do in Advent. We live in the “not yetness” of the season as we live in the “not yetness” of this life, looking for our Lord, awaiting His coming, trying to live each day prepared for that hour the time of which we do not know. How then are we to live? In the collect today we prayed that by God’s grace “... we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light ...”, that when that last day does come we rise to life immortal. All that we do now is preparation for that last day. So the question of how we are to live thus becomes: How do we cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light?

We get pretty clear signals in all the lessons about judgment which offers throughout the Gospels. Jesus tells us that faith is to be active, that we are to take risks and bear fruit. We get another signal when we combine Jesus speaking today of the fig tree with his action in Matthew, when He curses the fig tree that has not borne fruit. Put these teachings together with our prayer to put on the armor of light, and it becomes clear that the armor of light is put on in how we allow God’s light to shine forth in our lives by doing His will, His work.

We have a real example of that armor today, of that light shining forth. We are blessed today with the ministry of our youth. We see some of these young people literally clothed in the white alb of light, and today the altar wears the purple of this season of penitence. So let’s combine all of these signals and symbols, of active ministry, of watchfulness, of light, of and of penitence. What do we see? We see that as we put on the armor of light, as we allow God’s light to shine forth in our lives, we do this in purple: penitent, conscious of the judgment to come, when we shall see “’the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with great power and glory” (Luke 21.27).

God calls us to active ministry. What we each need to ask ourselves as we watch for our Lord is “What is it that God wants me to do?” In active ministry our response to God is ripened into a vocation, a vocation to serve God’s people. In serving His people, regardless of the season of the Church year, our lives will always be clothed in light and in purple (as well as in the red of martyrdom). The armor of light will shine forth through you in purple and red, for service which is offered in God’s Name is sacrificial service. It is an office and calling of compassion, of literally sharing in the sorrows of others and raising these sorrows up in the passion of our Lord. It is an office and calling of penitence, of offering before God our prayers and sacrifice. But within this red and purple, within this compassion and penitence there is always the light which shines forth, the armor put on, the white light of Easter joy and the kingship of Jesus.

A friend of mine who is a priest first came to recognize the special calling she has received when she tended to a family member hospitalized with a serious illness. In the long nights at the hospital, Marie would walk down the hall and see patients in other rooms, patients unvisited, uncomforted. And she responded to the still, small voice of God which said, “You comfort them. You care for them; you lift up their pain that I might redeem it.” Now, years later, after jumping through a few hoops too many, Marie lifts up the full sacrifice of our Lord Himself as a priest of His Church and as a hospital chaplain. She is the one for all those who lie in rooms and wait and watch; the one who shares in loss, that it may be redeemed in our Lord’s Name.

We see what one priest does in response to our Lord’s call, but when Jesus tells us to watch, to keep awake, He challenges each us: What will you do? How will you put on the armor of light? We can start by recognizing that the works of darkness require darkness. And what is darkness but the absence of light? The works of darkness are, therefore, interior; they thrive when we turn inward. But when we reach out we open up, and in the open shadows cannot abide.

Light must shine forth. It is active because God has equipped each one of us for his service. In St. Paul’s words from 1 Corinthians, “... the grace of God ... has been given you in Christ Jesus ... so that you are not lacking in any spiritual gift as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 4-7) Putting on the armor of light means taking the light which we have been given by God and sharing it to let it shine.

There are many ways that you can do this in this season and life of “not yetness,” this season and life of watching for our Lord: many ways, but each will involve doing something. It might be a work of service, of filling grocery bags at the Community Food Pantry or helping in the Adopt-a-Family ministry. It must include the offering of worship, which you can offer on any day of the week. You can put on the armor of light in education, by getting involved in a study group, by teaching in a Sunday School classroom or with the E.Y.C. The armor of light can clothe you in evangelism, modeling Christian behavior and reaching out to friends and neighbors to let them know that God may be found here. God’s light shines forth in pastoral care when you visit a shut-in or one who is ill, or when you take the time to listen to the troubles of those with whom you disagree.

The mission of the Church is accomplished by you. God calls each of you to action. He has called these young people to ministry among us today. He calls each of us to some ministry, and it is in this ministry–in doing God’s work–that we put on the armor of light. We share in penitence, to cast away the works of darkness and turn to the light; that with this light we may be clothed; with this light be may be armed to shine forth in a dark world, a world which waits for the coming of Christ in glory.

Put on the armor of light that you may meet your savior. Advent is a season of “not yet,” but in this it is a season of preparation. We turn, we repent, that we can be ready to receive Jesus; that we can make our hearts ready for His light to rise therein. We cast away the works of darkness by opening that which is closed to the light, by opening our hearts when they are focused on self, focused inward. Our penitence is not sad; it is not a time of mourning, but a time of expectation. Just as a mother knows that she will endure pain in bringing forth new life, so we know that at our Lord’s coming there will be foreboding, but then there will be birth, new life. The “not yetness” of Advent is the “not yetness” of this life, of life lived in expectation of heaven. It is a time of stock-taking of self, of examining all the ways in which we have so focused on ourselves that we are turned inward, and so are turned in such a way as to allow for darkness. And so it is a time when we all the more can focus on the message of hope, of lifting our heads and turning to the light, that when the light comes into our lives we, too, may sing with the angels the hymn which the Church saves throughout Advent for the joy of Christmas:

Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son,

and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.