First Sunday of Advent

November 29, 2009

“The Promise of the Fig Tree”

Reverend Michael D. Powell

 Luke 21:25-33  

 

           

            I realize it’s the last Sunday in November and that the snows of December are right around the corner - but summer is coming and, on this First Sunday of Advent, I’m looking for some warm and welcoming news. 

 

            The word advent, literally defined, means: a coming into place, view or being.  So it’s an arrival or an appearance.  In our Christian tradition, as we normally celebrate it today, Advent refers to the period beginning four Sundays before Christmas which is observed in commemoration of the coming of Christ into the world.  But Advent is not just a period of time, it’s also an attitude, and my favorite description of this advent attitude is from Frederick Buechner, as he describes that hushed sense of anticipation at the beginning of a concert:

 

“The houselights go off and the footlights come on. Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise. In the orchestra pit, the violin bows are poised. The conductor has raised his baton . . . you can feel your heart beat . . . The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.”                                                                                   Whistling In the Dark, p. 2

 

            That describes my ideal of an Advent attitude, but as I began by saying, I have to confess I’m also looking for some Good News, something warm and welcoming, hopeful and comforting. 

 

            I didn’t exactly find what I was looking for in the scripture that the lectionary recommended for today, which included dire predictions of “nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves,” and, “people fainting from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world.“ Sounds more like the movie 2012, doesn’t it?  I think I already did that sermon!  But at least these scary words of scripture end on a hopeful note, promising: “your redemption is drawing near.”  And then Jesus expresses the promise of the fig tree.  By the way, this is not the same fig tree that Jesus cursed in another story.  That story is presented as having actually happened (whether it did or not), with the result that the tree withered and died!  But this fig tree is simply alluded to, as a tree that sprouts leaves as summer approaches.  Both are symbolic, metaphorical expressions that Jesus uses to make a point, but it’s the tree that expresses the promise of blessing and growth that I want to focus on this morning.

 

             Jesus is talking about days of distress, accompanied by terrifying heavenly signs, but then suddenly he interjects a word of comfort and hope. "Now learn this lesson from the fig tree," he says. "As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near. Even so, when you see these things happening, you know that it is near, right at the door. I tell you the truth; this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away."

   

            Jesus is talking about discerning the signs of the times.  They may seem like bad news, but the promise is that they are actually signs of new life, of birth, of tenderness and growth. When he says that there are those listening to him that day who will not pass away before they have seen him return in power and glory, well - that is either flat out wrong, or we have to look for another, less literal understanding of what he’s talking about.

 

            Now, here’s the more interesting question: why on earth would the lectionary passage for today sound more like the Mayan version of 2012 rather than something we might expect to hear at the beginning of our Christian Advent? The reason this passage is recommended for the First Sunday of Advent is that, historically, Advent was a mixed metaphor, a time for anticipating not only the birth of Jesus, but his Second Coming as well.  The Second Coming, like those apocalyptic Left Behind novels, can be pretty scary stuff, with Christ coming in clouds of power and glory.  It can be a little jarring if you come expecting to hear baby stories and instead get these dire predictions of cosmic disasters.

 

            But, I think we can have it both ways!  I believe there’s a way to understand these scriptures as talking about today! This is the First Sunday of Advent and Christ is coming again. It just doesn’t have to be so scary and foreboding.  We don't have to wait until the end of history to experience the presence of Jesus Christ breaking into our world. There are clouds of power and glory aplenty right here and right now, this day and every day. Advent is an attitude, an inner, spiritual preparation that heightens our perception of God's presence being birthed in signs of growth and sensitivity.  We have a challenge and an opportunity to begin living today with the awareness that Christ is continually being born anew in the manger of every receptive heart.

 

            Turning again to Frederick Buechner, he’s written a piece very simply entitled, Today.

 

            “Today,” he writes, is a “moment of light surrounded on all sides by darkness and oblivion. In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another just like it and there will never be another just like it again. It is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. If you were aware of how precious today is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all!  ‘This is the day which the Lord has made,' says the 118th Psalm. 'Let us rejoice and be glad in it.' Or weep and be sad in it for that matter. The point is to see it for what it is because it will be gone before you know it. If you waste it, it is your life that you're wasting. If you look the other way, it may be the moment you've been waiting for always that you're missing.  All other days have either disappeared into darkness and oblivion, or not yet emerged from it. Today is the only day there is.                          Whistling In the Dark, p. 105

 

            On this Advent Sunday of Christ's coming, we gather and give thanks for the vision to behold God's power, God's peace, and God's glory. We gather to receive the freely given gift of God’s love through Christ, and we pledge our commitment to carrying on the work of Christ through this church family that provides us with the challenge and the opportunity to grow in our awareness of God’s loving presence in this very specific and particular time and place.

 

            Thanks be to God for the gift of today and for the promise of tomorrow.  As we begin this holy season of Advent, a time of prayerful preparation and watching for the signs of new life, may we remember Christ’s illustration of the flowering fig tree.  We join together in our love for God and of one another as we anticipate the future with joy, with hope, and with the confidence of Christ, in whose name we pray.  Amen.