Abstract
‘Let us walk in the light of the Lord.’ (Isaiah 2:5)
There are some things that preachers can say without any fear of originality at all. One of them is to join the protest at the beginning of December that the rest of the world seems to be celebrating too early. It is not yet Christmas. The lights might be up in all the high streets and shopping centres and in and outside many houses; Nobby Holder, Elton John, Bing Crosby et al. might be heard from every public address system while Classic FM will not allow an hour to pass without a Rutter arrangement of a carol; you might have invitations in the next few days to a turkey dinner or a Christmas party—but it is not yet Christmas and it won’t be until the 25th (or maybe late on the 24th). Today is only the first Sunday in Advent. So, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
That is not simply a grumble about the commercial and social world ignoring the Christian calendar. It is more about how we benefit spiritually from this time of the year. We want to welcome the season of Advent as a gift; we want to enjoy the festivity of Christmas better for having waited with discipline for it; we want to approach the feast of the Saviour’s birth prayerfully; we want to remind ourselves again of the longing that Christ comes to answer. We don’t want to get ahead of ourselves. And our readings today won’t let us do so. On this first Sunday in Advent we are not offered anything that points us to the birth of the Messiah. There is nothing in these lections about Bethlehem or the descendants of David and no hint yet of stars or angels. Instead, our readings invite us to focus on events promised in the future. We heard Isaiah’s prophecy of the exaltation of Jerusalem and the unchallenged reign of God, Paul’s admonition to the Romans about being ready for the Day of the Lord, and Matthew’s record of Jesus’ apocalyptic words about the coming of the Son of Man. There’s no danger of getting ahead of ourselves into the joy of Christmas there.
However, our lections do ask us to get ahead of ourselves. Isaiah’s prophecy was concerning Judah and Jerusalem but looked forward to the day when all nations will be subject to the judgment of God and when people of all nations will live according to the Law that God has given. The role of the people of Judah is to anticipate that day, to live as if it has already arrived—‘Let us walk in the light of the Lord.’ Paul introduces his theme of the time of crisis in the context of his urging the Romans to observe the law of love. Love, he has reminded them, is the fulfilling of the law—and therefore although it might still be night they are to live decently or fittingly as if the day has already arrived. So the focus on the day of the Lord that is common to all three readings is not to make us quiver with fear at the judgment awaiting us. Rather, it is to challenge us to live in anticipation of that judgment. Our readings point us to what the untrammelled rule of God will be like and challenge us to behave as those who are already under that rule. The people of Judah become a sign of the life that all people will one day live; the Church becomes a sign of the kingdom of God in all its fullness. ‘Let us walk in the light of the Lord.’
Amongst the subjects at which I did not excel at school was metalwork, so I rely on others for the information that turning swords into ploughshares could be done and done quite easily. The vision of a future universal peace is predicated on simple, practical actions, as the law of love is predicated on simple, practical actions—the early Christians have been urged to live as model citizens and to keep the Ten Commandments. It is in quiet and peacable living, in faithfulness and the avoidance of vice, that love is the fulfilling of the law and day is preferred to darkness. In the verses following today’s reading, Paul moves in Romans from the rhetorical heights of urging his readers to put on the armour of Christ to the mundane discussion of how different understandings of what might be eaten or how the calendar might be organized can be tolerated within the Christian community. In the church and in the world, simple practical actions become a sign of what God has planned for all people. Some years ago, there was a campaign for ‘random acts of kindness’, small things that would make another’s life better. But acts of kindness are not random. Rather, they are signs of the reign of God that we anticipate. To attempt understanding with someone with whom we don’t agree, to offer forgiveness to someone who has injured us, to make a gift that will help someone in need, to take the time to listen to someone who is lonely or unhappy—these small, practical things are signs of the kingdom that is to come.
And now, says the psalmist, our feet are standing within your gates, O Jerusalem. According to Matthew, Jesus’ prophecy of the last days was prompted by his disciples drawing his attention to the beauty of the temple buildings and Jesus predicting their destruction. The fire at Notre Dame Cathedral earlier this year reminded us of the fragility of the most iconic of religious architecture: a temple might point to the eternal, but it is not itself eternal. Yet, in various ways (as the outpouring of grief over Notre Dame in April demonstrated), a place of worship can give us the impression that, timebound though we are, we live in the light of the eternal. The architectural forms and works of art of a great cathedral do not simply delight our eyes; they give us a sense of the numinous. Beautiful music and majestic liturgy do not just please our ears; they tell us that we are in the presence of something much greater than we are. The near-tangible sense of prayer that pervades the silence does not just sooth our minds; it speaks of the eternal. But the reign of God, of which Isaiah predicts that Jerusalem will be the sign, is not confined to moments of beauty and awe and tranquillity in an holy place but represented in actions that speak of the glory and peace of God in everyday living. That is the invitation for today—to live now as part of the future and eternal reign of God, to embody the kingdom of justice and love. Or, in other words, at the beginning of this season of anticipation, to get ahead of ourselves.