Advent 1C
November 28, 2010
Psalm 122 * Isaiah 21:1-5 * Romans 13:11-14 * Matthew 24:36-44
The Rev. David M. McNair
One of the difficulties many people have with the Christian faith as they have been taught it is this: it seemed to have plenty to offer in the past and it promises plenty in the future, but it doesn’t seem to offer much help in the midst of the struggles of our lives day in and day out. We read ancient stories of miracles — of Jesus touching people and curing them of sickness and driving out their demons. We look at the early church and marvel at how they were set on fire with the Holy Spirit and did amazing things in the face of overwhelming odds. And we are left wondering why it seldom — if ever — seems to be that way for us.
Perhaps too, our hearts leap when we hear about the promises of the coming of the Kingdom of God. We are thrilled by the vision of the day when justice will roll like a river and righteousness flow like an everflowing stream; when all swords will be beaten into plowshares, and nations will learn war no more; when there is justice and plenty for all, and God will wipe away every tear and welcome all people and nations to the great banquet of everlasting peace and joy. Yet, in the midst of trying to hold our lives together in the here and now, promises of the sweet by and by can seem like little more than an escapist fantasy.Today we begin the new season of the church year, Advent.
The word advent derives from the Latin, adventus, which means "arrival" — the arrival of the long-awaited Messiah. In Advent we prepare ourselves for the arrival of the Christ child born of a peasant girl in a stable more than two hundred centuries ago. But that’s not the only arrival we await. We also await the coming of the Messiah in glory to put things right at the end of the age. In our gospel reading today Jesus gives his disciples snapshot images of the apocalypse: “two will be in a field: one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. . . . you do not know on what day the Lord is coming.” In other words, Christ is coming, we just don’t know when. But, if these two arrivals are what Advent is all about, doesn’t it just compound the problem I spoke of just a minute ago? Doesn’t it just end up offering us sweet sentiment about the past, and pie in the sky when we die, and leave us to slog out our lives as best we can until the kingdom comes?
To complicate matters all the more, we Episcopalian types don’t really like to think or talk much about the end times – Christ’s second coming. We leave that to those nutty fringe groups and doomsday fanatics. After all, we’re aware how people all through history have gone out and yelled “He’s Coming, He’s Coming! The End is at Hand” only to discover that they were totally wrong. Instead of announcing the end is at hand, Episcopalians are more prone to have the bumper sticker that says “In case of the rapture, can I have your car?”
In today’s gospel reading, we hear Jesus say that the second coming will be like the unexpected flood that swept people away in the days of Noah, or the mysterious disappearance of people going about their daily tasks, or the surprise of a thief breaking into a home in the middle of the night.
These apocalyptic images are reminiscent of the devastating outbreak of cholera the past few weeks in Haiti or the horrible earthquake that hit Haiti this past January and leveled her capital, Port-au-Prince. Or images of flood victims in New Orleans in the Astrodome or on the roofs of their houses after Hurricane Katrina. Add to this the searing images no one can shake of the twin towers falling, or the tsunamis and earthquakes in Indonesia and Pakistan, or the perpetual stories of the war in Afghanistan, or the economic fallout, confusion, and dismay of these days we’re now calling the Great Recession. All these are apocalyptic type events — and if they happened and Jesus didn’t accompany them on a cloud from heaven we cannot even begin to conceive when the Second Coming would be. Bishop Will Willimon says “It’s hard to stand on tiptoe for 2000 years.”
Perhaps we have been far too one dimensional in our reading of these “end of time” passages and our understanding of the Advent of the Messiah. Perhaps we’ve been mistaken to think that the terrors Jesus pointed to were not the terrors that we face. Perhaps we have been mistaken to push our expectations for the coming of the Messiah into the past and into the future.
I believe Jesus is not only referring to one specific time in the future. He's calling us to expect the Messiah to come to us with real help in the midst of our lives — to be ready for what he will do among us and through us NOW.
I’ve been a big fan of the Harry Potter books since they first came out. I read all seven of them as soon as they came off the press. And then I’ve read them all again with Sadie and Simon. Of course, this past week I joined in the throngs around the world hyped to go see the first movie installment of the seventh book, The Deathly Hallows, which hit the movie theaters last Friday. While I was working as the director of Camp Henry, we had a Harry Potter theme one summer and we sorted the campers into cabin groups with a magical talking sorting hat just like at Hogwarts, and we played Quiddich — riding around on brooms trying to dodge bludgers and to capture the elusive golden snitch.
In the third book in the series, The Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry is being threatened by dementors. Listen to how dementors are described by one of Harry’s teachers:
“Dementors are among the foulest of creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles [that is, non-magical humans] feel their presence, though they can’t see them. Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself. . . soul-less and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.” (1)
When Matthew recorded the words we hear from Jesus today, the Romans had already sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the temple and the early Christians were being persecuted and, no doubt, felt like they had been attacked by dementors. And today — even among those who have not been personally touched by devastating floods, or earthquakes, or wars, or terrorist attacks — many people know this feeling all too well. Depression is in epidemic proportions in western society. Though we may not have seen dementors, we know the soulless, lifeless feeling when all the color and hope seems to empty from our world and leave us terrified. I have read that J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter books, said the idea for the dementors came from her own struggles with depression. Even those of us who might not be diagnosed as suffering clinical depression know that there are times when dementors bear down on us.
Because of the threat of the dementors, one of Harry Potter’s teachers, Professor Lupin, sets out to teach him the only defense there is against them – the Patronus Charm, which he describes as “a kind of anti-dementor – a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementors.”(2) In order to activate the Petronus Charm, Harry has to concentrate all his might on the strongest and happiest memory he possesses, and then call out the words, “Expecto Patronum!” These are powerful and significant words. They mean “expect the help of your father, your guardian.” Expecto Patronum sounds a lot like the early Christian Church mantra for Advent, “Maranatha,” “Come, Lord Jesus.”
At the crucial moment, when Harry and his wounded godfather are about to be destroyed by a swarm of dementors, he is able to cry out, “Expecto Patronum!” and from his wand comes dazzling, brilliant light in the form of a great stag that charges the dementors, who flee before its light. The one powerful happy memory that Harry was able to focus into the patronus charm was the memory of being greatly loved by his father and mother, who had died to save his life when he was a baby. It was holding fiercely to the knowledge of that love that drove away the dementors.
Jesus says, “Keep awake, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. . . be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.” The “end times” experience is not just a special time in the future. It has happened before and will happen again. But, it is also in the midst of the turmoil, terrors, and struggles now. Yes, there will be a time when everything will be fulfilled, but the experience of the one who comes then is an experience we are to look for and expect now.
The Messiah who was born in Bethlehem and the Messiah who will come to make all things new is the same Messiah who comes to drive off our dementors and to give us hope and salvation now. Expecto Patronum! Expect the help of the Messiah now! Come, Lord Jesus!
Notes:
2. Ibid, 237.