We Belong Where We Are
Advent 1, Year A
Isaiah 2:1-5 | Psalm 122 | Romans 13:11-14 | Matthew 24:36-44
In a church I formerly attended, the minister was always quick to helpfully remind the congregation that one of the things that makes the Abrahamic family of faiths unique is that they are often guided by time, and not just guided, but willingly bound or constrained by it. There is a linear storytelling arc to our belief, a defined scope of concern that gives richness, not just to scripture but to church history. Perhaps the most important function of this reminder was that it served as an excellent invitation, allowing his congregants a nearness to events told and promises given as we studied the Bible together. As one might imagine, given the mysterious nature of time, both in and out of our faith, this reminder was often met with a wide range of reactions. Some were comforted by the notion that one could trace a common thread back to stories of a garden and an ark and a multi-colored coat, and that same thread will reach its frayed terminus sometime in the future. Others among us were instead comforted by stepping out of time, entering into another kind of mystery, that of eternal life in the presence of eternal light. Of course, we weren’t the first group of people to think of these things. People have been thinking about these things ever since the first thought of “what happens next?” entered their minds, and I doubt it took long for that thought to surface.
Truth is, whether this reminder of our relationship to time was good news or bad, all were given the gift by this minister of being situated, contextualized, grounded when big questions came up. What was perhaps intended to be a theological statement of education also functions as a pastoral move as well. Being reminded that we exist in a bounded time reminds us that we belong, that we have a place, not just an eternal mansion over a hilltop, but a belonging here and now. And yet, that belonging can be one of anticipation as well. All of our texts this week remind me of the two realities of our existence as people of Christ. We are here, and we look forward to something. Both are important. Our feet are standing in the bounded city of Jerusalem, and yet we pray fervently with our brothers and sisters in and out of the walls for peace, seeking the mutual good of our communities. We long for peace in all places, and yet we recognize that the peace of Christ is potentially within everyone we meet. We ascend to the mountain of the Lord, and know that once we find ourselves there we have only begun to walk by the guidance of His perfect light. We enjoy the richness of pleasure in the bodies God has given us, and we wait even anxiously for lives in which those pleasures are not twisted and marred by sin and distance from their true source.
Of course, we see this played out most clearly in the teaching of Jesus in our reading from Matthew’s gospel. When faced with the potentially anxious question “what comes next?” rather than answer in the way one might expect, Jesus reminds his hearers that while the question seems urgent, it is a question that goes back to the days of their ancestors in the faith, and by doing so, not only does he comfort them in their worry, but also grounds them in a story. By harkening back to Noah’s situation, Jesus reminds them that they are seen not just here and now, bounded by time, but also in whatever came before and whatever comes next. To be sure, Jesus has answers about what it is that comes next, but when faced with the weight of uncertainty for a people desperate to hear good news, Jesus, while not ignoring the urgency that they all feel, reminds them of their belonging, and gives them hope for what comes next. We belong where we are, we belong to a people and a story, and that story is unfolding within us and before us. Perhaps we begin to see that by situating us and pointing us forward, Jesus is calling us back to our true place in Him. May we begin to see that “keep awake” is just another way to say “I love you.”