Sermon – Sunday 1 December/Rev. Charleston D. Wilson

When I was in about the seventh or eighth grade, my parents let me host a sleepover. But this was no ordinary sleepover. Before the sleepover, I begged and begged (“I ain’t too proud to beg,” as the Temptations put it!) so that we could stay up all night for the first time (as far as they knew). My parents rightly said it was a silly idea, but they agreed that we could stay up all night, as long as we didn’t keep them up all night.

So, we did just that: we stayed up all night long. And we wanted to stay awake solely because we were afraid we might miss something. Ironically, there was nothing to see or miss, because there was nothing going on during those hours in Linden, Alabama. I secretly hoped that the girls we had crushes on might, just might, suddenly awake in the middle of the night and want to call us (on a rotary dial landline, mind you) and profess their undying love at 3:00 AM. Can you believe that the phone never rang?

But it was more – really, way more – than just waiting on the phone to ring. Our companionship – just hangin’ out, as they say – was life-giving to each of us in every sense of the word, and we drew so much satisfaction from just being together.

We weren’t strategizing, we weren’t agonizing, we weren’t analyzing – we weren’t doing any such thing, save having a good time with each other. Have you ever been in a relationship with someone or with friends like that?

Children and young adults understand how this works better than most of us. My eleven year-old son, Gus, recently had an all-night sleepover of his own. When he came home, I asked him, “Gus, how was the sleepover?” He said, “Dad it was the most awesome thing ever!” I asked further, “What did y’all do?” He replied, “Nothing.” Being an adult, I can’t imagine spending twelve hours of doing “nothing” and finding that “awesome,” but maybe my son is onto something.

Gus is onto something, and it’s called the awakening power and joy of relationship – authentic companionship, connectivity and contentment untethered to tomorrow’s possibilities or yesterday’s problems.

Jesus is talking about that kind of relationship today, and He tells us to stay awake so that we don’t miss a minute of it.

He tells this to adult disciples who’ve begun that transition from being awake to the moment – from contentment in His presence – to figuring out when and how the story might conclude – and what their individual roles might be. He tells this to those who are moving from the depths of dependency on His love and mercy to the inevitable sleepiness and exhaustion that comes from distraction.

He issues a wake-up call to all of us who, in the words of T.S. Eliot, are:

Distracted from distraction by distraction

Filled with fancies and empty of meaning

Tumid apathy with no concentration.

To everyone who wants to know when the next recession is coming, to everyone who wants to know when illness will next strike, to the constant strategic planner types, like Kenny Rogers, who said:

You’ve got to know when to hold ’em

Know when to fold ’em

Know when to walk away

And know when to run.

To all who’ve largely lost their child-like dependency on Him, Jesus says reset, refocus, reboot, restart, re-imagine, return!

That’s what it means to “cast away the works of darkness and put on the armour of light.”

But there is more to consider today.

In Four Quartets, Eliot also said – and he was totally correct that “Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” Tom Cruise may have said it even better in the movie A Few Good Men. Don’t you remember him in the court scene when he finally boxes in an irritated Jack Nicholson:

“You want answers?!,” shouts Nicholson. “I want the truth!,” responds Cruise. Jack Nicholson then blows a gasket and screams, “You can’t handle the truth!”

Advent forces us to confront two truths. The first is this:

One of the biggest lies we tell one another is that we need to be independent, self-sustaining, autonomous individuals in all things.

Now, it’s great to have financially self-sustaining children when they graduate from university, and independent pioneering entrepreneurs make the world a better place. But in the spiritual world, in the economy of grace, we begin, continue and end with utter dependence on God. Anything less means we’ve been hypnotized – lulled to sleep – by the world, the flesh and the devil.

The second truth – the second reality – is like unto the first:

No matter what we think of ourselves, whether it is too highly or if it’s full-blown self-loathing, no matter what others think about us, no matter the things done or left undone, God loves each of us and wants above all else to be in relationship with us.

 Do you remember when you first sensed that God cared about you – you individually? Maybe it was a long time ago. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Maybe it was sixty-five years ago. I have a good friend – a really close friend – whose parents dropped her off at Sunday School in 1954 and quickly sped away to have a little time to themselves. Her parents weren’t believers. She heard the name of Jesus that day – how He loved her and how He always wanted her to depend on Him – and she’s been a devoted, trusting disciple ever since. She’s 91 years old now and lives in Punta Gorda. Her name is Mary, and she heard the name of Jesus for the first time right here at Church of the Redeemer.

Do you remember that one time you really did hand over your worry and fear and guilt to Jesus? Do you remember that one time you actually trusted in Him for a salutary outcome and not in yourself? Do you remember how that felt?

Christians call that feeling joy.

In Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis said: “All joy reminds. It is never a possession, always a desire for something longer ago or further away or still ‘about to be.”

Joy – joyful expectation – is the perfect advent attitude, as we prepare to celebrate the annual remembrance of our Lord’s nativity – his first coming, and as we look for his return in glory—to that joy which is further away still.

Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions put it like this in 1965. It’s not an Advent hymn – yet!

People get ready, there’s a train comin’
You don’t need no baggage, you just get on board
All you need is faith to hear the diesels hummin’
You don’t need no ticket you just thank the Lord

Life’s greatest feeling comes from being awakened —staying awake and alert— to the fact that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.

Sermon preached by the Rev. Charleston D. Wilson

Church of the Redeemer

Sarasota Florida

1st Sunday of Advent

1 December 2019