Advent Begins In The Darkness

ADVENT THEME: HOPE

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.
You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy;
they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest,
as warriors rejoice when dividing the plunder.
For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered
the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders,
    the rod of their oppressor.


Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood
will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.


Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end.
He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom,
establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness
    from that time on and forever.
The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this.
 Isaiah 9:2-7

 

The celebration of Advent is possible only to those who are troubled in soul, who know themselves to be poor and imperfect, and who look forward to something greater to come.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

 

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Advent begins in darkness.

Hope is probably the key underlying theme in Advent – advent, after all, points toward the “arrival” of something or someone. But hope is pale if it is not seen as an offering in the face of evil forces that assail the world during what Paul calls “this present evil age” (Galatians 1:4). 

In this sense, Advent is apocalyptic – a  “revealing” or “unveiling.” Unfortunately, apocalypse has become primarily associated with a terrible end to all things, but that’s not necessarily what the biblical writers meant when they used the word. Revelation, for example, is not an apocalypse simply because of what it says about the unfolding of terrible things in world history. It does unveil that, to be sure, but it’s an apocalypse primarily because of what it reveals or unveils about Jesus. In other words, an apocalypse may unveil terrible things, but it can also unveil wonderful things. In the Bible, apocalyptic literature like Revelation and Daniel does both. So, Advent is about an apocalyptic time. 

The prophets in the Old Testament had ‘unveiled’ two things: why God was angry at His people, and what He was going to do about it. 

The Israelites were God’s people; God had promised them great things. But they had a track record of remarkable disobedience, and they ended up living in exile in Babylonian. Read Jeremiah’s Lamentations - or any of the Old Testament prophets, really. They unveiled the people’s continuing unfaithfulness to God and their covenant with God. 

There’s a gap of hundreds of years between the Old and New Testament where the Jewish people believed God was silent.  There seemed to be no hope. It would have been easy to believe they had been abandoned by God: maybe he just wasn’t powerful enough to defeat the other gods; maybe He didn’t even exist; maybe he was angry beyond the breaking point. This must have been a time when their faith was tested in ways that are hard to understand.  Or…maybe we do. It’s not as if followers of Jesus have stopped struggling with feelings of despair, abandonment, disillusionment, or loss of hope.

But Jewish prophecy wasn’t simply about predicting something and then waiting for the fulfillment. It was often about pattern: showing how God has worked and is working so that the people will know how God will work. There was a constant uncovering of the eyes, constant apocalyptic glimpses of what is to come.[1]

The prophets made clear that their exile, and the silence of God for the centuries between the end of the OT and the beginning of the NT, was the reaping of what they had sown. God had told them what to expect if they were unfaithful. Now they know He’s serious. 

But the prophets also helped them dream of a new world, a new way of life in faithful covenant, a time when a messiah sent by the God who had not abandoned them would rescue them from their exile. God was faithful with all His promises, after all, not just the grim ones. He had promised that they were His people and that He would be faithful - that, too, was unveiled. 

Isaiah has pleaded, “Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down.” (Isaiah 64:1) And on the cross, there was indeed a rending – not just of the skin of the Savior, but of the curtain in the temple, decorated with stars to represent the heavens, the curtain the separated sinful, unwashed, morally impure humanity from the Holy of Holies. 

The Messiah had come. Those who live in great darkness will see a great light. (Isaiah 9:2; Matthew 4:16) The hope of an age to come in which they lived in the light of God’s blessing shone with increasing urgency.

“Advent is a season of being caught between the way things are and the way they will be. Or, perhaps better said, between the way things seem to be and the way things really are. In other words, Advent is a season during which we long for apocalypse. But as the preacher of Hebrews reminds us, “Faith is the reality of what we hope for, and the evidence of what we can’t see.” Advent is a season of faith. We light candles and trust that, as God has come before, so will God come again. We trust that no matter how dark the night, dawn is coming. We choose to hope. We choose to believe.”[2]

It turns out that the apocalypse is about a hope found in something beyond human history, something that is bigger than our personal or national cycles of optimism and despair. It is found in an incarnate God, one who arrives in the person of Christ (that’s the first advent), and one will return (that’s the second one).[3] During Advent season, we find hope in two arrivals: the one that changed history with a new covenant for His people, and the one that will wrap it up and make all things new.[4]

But we are in the middle of those two arrivals. And in that middle, it’s messy. And between the two bright lights of advent hope there are a lot of things that cast shadows. There are a lot of things that feel like exile, that feel hopeless, that cause us to question God’s goodness, or power, or existence. Advent season reminds us that we are asked to do something important: 

“Stand a watch…as the ever-encroaching darkness draws near, and to ultimately give witness to the victory of light over night. And then to stand in its glorious beams and see all things be made new.[5]

Advent is about light emerging from darkness.[6] Advent is about the apocalypse, the unveiling of the truth about the world – which involves both an honest look at the grim circumstances of a groaning world, but also the truth about the glorious Savior who has come to redeem and save. 

“Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” This is as Advent a proclamation as I can imagine. We live in the ‘is’, between the remembrance of Christ’s death and the expectation of his coming again at the end of all things. This means we live in the fact of his risen-ness…We cannot always clearly see Christ, but knowing that Christ is risen means we can stand up and welcome Christ in the crisis. Death no longer has dominion over him. Death has no dominion over us. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus—not the past, not the present, not the future. We wait for the end of all these things, but we look for Christ now, risen and gathering us for the end.[7]

 We live in the ‘is’, between the remembrance of Christ’s death and the expectation of his coming again at the end of all things. 

I want to linger here this morning. 

I was reading an article this week written by a Catholic who was acknowledging the terrible cost of the ‘apocalypse’ in the Catholic Church over the past few years, particularly the scandal of sexual abuse. He was noting the discouragement, disillusionment and anger in Catholics who were leaving the church. There was something about how he summarized it that has lingered with me.  

“Some people can only handle as much as they believe they can handle, and it is no easy thing to stand where we are and watch darkness grow where the light is fading. It is unsettling, disorienting. Despite the risk of injury, we want to run, get away from the dark, because we can’t bear to stay within it. 

But that is what Advent is asking us to do: to stay. To stand a watch in the [twilight] as the ever-encroaching darkness draws near, and to ultimately give witness to the victory of light over night. And then to stand in its glorious beams and see all things be made new. 

And so this is what I want to say to my friends who have left, or who are struggling; those who are halfway out the doors, or think they soon will be: My dear sisters and brothers, Hold on! Hold fast, and don’t run at the revelation! Don’t try to run through the fearsome darkness! 

Stay for Advent and stand the watch with me, with your family, with all of us... Be willing, for now, to keep company with Christ, so deeply wounded by his own Bride. Consent, for now, to share in the hard times before us (they will yet get harder, the darkness will grow deeper, still) and help us to hold, to hold fast! 

Because the light is coming; the darkness will never overcome it. Remember that Isra-el means “struggle with God.” We are all little Isra-els right now, wrestling, wrestling within his house and seeking our Jerusalem, our Abode of Peace. Hold on! Hold fast! 

Because an Advent promise has been made to us, and God is ever-faithful, so we may trust in it: Your light will come Jerusalem; the Lord will dawn on you in radiant beauty. This is for all of us. It is for you, and for me. It’s for every little Isra-el struggling. Your light will come. Just hold fast.”[8]

 

What “is” going on your life right now?

Is politics overwhelming you? Does every election now feel like an apocalypse in the Hollywood way, an unveiling of the disastrous end of all things? Do it feel like America or the church as we know it is being upended, or that the future will hold only pain? We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come. 

Is COVID scaring you, or frustrating you? Do the last 9 months make you question the wisdom of men and the godliness and faith of your fellow Christians? Does this feel like an apocalypse, an unveiling of the true state of the world and the church that brings you despair? Is it hard to see a way forward that involves peace and hope? We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Did you lose a loved one this year through death, or through abandonment, or through relational distance that feels like a death? Do you wonder if this grief and emptiness will ever end? We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Is your mental and emotional health on the line? If studies and private conversation are indication, a lot of us are struggling this year with depression, loneliness, and anxiety. Especially as winter moves in, things can feel bleak and lifeless. We wonder when we feel alive again. We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Is your family in crisis? Maybe spending more time at home has not been a blessing. Maybe politics and Covid have pushed you apart.  Maybe this apocalyptic year has simply unveiled cracks in family foundations that had been easy to cover up. We wonder if what has been broken can possibly be repaired. We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

Has being part of this church been hard? Have you been frustrated with your church family here this past year? Me too. Have you felt like people around you just weren’t getting it!?!?! Me too. Do you wonder what 2021 holds for CLG?  Me too. We live in the reality of Christ’s risen-ness, which means we can stand up, rejoice and worship Jesus in the midst of any crisis. An Advent promise has been made to us; God is faithful, so we may trust in it. Our light which rose as a Savior from the darkness of death and will come again in a glorious unveiling of the return of the King. This is the hope revealed in the Advent that was and is to come.

I want to close with a famous Christmas song written as a result of the Civil War. It captures this in-between time, the reality of waiting in a life that is hard for a hope that is sure. 

 

I HEARD THE BELLS ON CHRISTMAS DAY[9]

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

Then from each black, accursed mouth,
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound the carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn the households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !

And in despair I bowed my head ; 
"There is no peace on earth," I said ; 
"For hate is strong and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men !"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 
"God is not dead ; nor doth he sleep !
The Wrong shall fail, the Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men !"


THREE QUESTIONS

  1. What kind of apocalypses have you experienced in your life? That is, times when God ‘unveils’ himself to you and changed your life?

  2. In what areas of your life do you long for an apocalypse? “Oh, that God would rend the heavens and come down.” (Hint: might be good subject matter that guides how you pray for each other if you are doing this in a small group).

  3. How might this change our lives if we genuinely fixed our eyes on the Two Advents instead of the darkness and shadows in which we live?

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[1] “Advent, the Apocalypse: A Constant Uncovering Of The Eyes.” https://www.patheos.com/blogs/sickpilgrim/2016/12/advent-the-apocalypse-a-constant-uncovering-of-the-eyes/

[2] “Anna And The Apocalypse And Advent.” https://www.reelworldtheology.com/anna-and-the-apocalypse-and-advent/

[3] “Why Apocalypse Is Essential To Advent.” https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2018/december-web-only/advent-apocalypse-fleming-rutledge-essential-to-this-season.html

[4] “Advent Apocalypse.” https://www.ministrymatters.com/all/entry/3388/advent-apocalypse

[5] “AMIDST OUR APOCALYPSE, ADVENT ASKS US TO STAY.” https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/blog/amidst-our-apocalypse-advent-asks-us-to-stay/5962/

[6] This darkness to light motif is thick in Scripture. We see the glorious beams that shine on new things over and over.

·       Creation. “Let their be light” and there is light that shines in the darkness.

·       It’s in a plague of darkness in Egypt, God shows his freeing power.

·       On a dark and stormy mountain, God reveals his covenant commandments to His people through Moses.

·       Jesus’ birth was at night, in the shadow of the Herod’s palace, yet the light of the star and the glory of the angels first pointed the way then illuminated it.  

·       There’s a fascinating story in Mark 5 where a demon-possessed man – bound in spiritual darkness – is the source of an unveiling:  “The demon recognizes his superior; in a Gospel that famously keeps the “messianic secret,” this is the first entity to identify exactly who Jesus is: “What do you want with me, Jesus Son of the Most High God?”[6]

·       The Resurrection happens at night, and is revealed in the morning.

·       The disciples are fishing before dawn, and the Resurrected Jesus appears in the morning. 

 

[7] “Advent Apocalypse.” https://www.mnys.org/from-pastors-desk/advent-apocalypse/

[8] “Amidst Our Apocalypse, Advent Asks Us To Stay.” https://www.wordonfire.org/resources/blog/amidst-our-apocalypse-advent-asks-us-to-stay/5962/

[9] Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, written while nursing his son back to health after a grievous injury in the Civil War.