St. Thomas Evangelical Lutheran Church
3800 East Third Street
Bloomington, Indiana 47401
(812) 332-5252
Sermon for the First Sunday in Advent (December 2, 2007)
Liturgical Color: Blue
Reverend Doctor Lyle E. McKee
"Seeking the Real"
Grace to you and peace from our loving God, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Jesus said to the disciples, "About that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father...Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour."
Stay awake! Just the sort of thing for a sermon. A preacher must have put this reading in, thinking it might keep his congregation more attentive and less prone to snooze!
It is difficult sometimes to awaken, and to stay awake. Is there anything harder to do in December than to wake up on dark, weekday mornings and get off to work, convincing yourself that even though it's dark outside, somehow it's actually "morning" and time to wake up to a new "day"?
But there is another way to think of what it means to wake up.
I think of movies and literature that begin with events that seem perfectly normal and then slowly give hints that something else is going on. These often lead to the main character or characters recognizing a reality that is beyond the one in which they imagine they live.
One thinks of the "Matrix" movies. Neo, Trinity, Morpheus and the group of people known as the Resistance discover that the "reality" in which most people imagine they live is a computer-generated pseudo reality, an artificially induced mass hallucination. In truth—in the real world—every human being is in a state of semi-consciousness, kept alive through intravenous means in a mass hive, and harvested for the energy their bodies create.
One thinks too of movies like "The Truman Show." Truman Burbank, the lead character lives a life entirely created by the "megalomediac" TV executive Christof. The executive had created a set so vast, that Truman had not suspected in his thirty years that the environment in which he lives is entirely artificial.
Every day of his life Truman has been on camera and on stage. But Truman's picture-postcard-perfect life, his too perfect world, Sea Haven, is really a zoo. His perfect wife/perfect mother/perfect best friend/perfect city are all elaborate fakes. Actors, props, sets and scripts are the only reality. But Truman doesn't know it. His whole life is appearances only; just surfaces, no depth. And yet, he is the center of that universe.
In fact, The Truman Show becomes the most popular show in the history of the planet. Vidiots (those who watch) even have sets installed in the bathroom so they don't miss anything when they're taking a bath. People are living their entire lives along with Truman. The fake reality, unknown to Truman, ironically becomes the chosen dream into which millions of people escape.
Finally, of course, he begins to wake up to the world around him. And the more awake he becomes, the more the actors around him come unglued and break down. The more he awakens, the more the fake world comes crashing down.
One thinks too of "Alice Adventures in Wonderland" and "Through the Looking Glass." Such themes concerning the nature of reality are common in fantasy, science fiction, and other literature.
Scripture too proposes an alternate view of reality like the one Jesus suggests today. Another example is the well-known text in First Corinthians:
For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. (v. 12)
One might think that it's safe to enjoy a movie like "The Truman Show" or "The Matrix" because they're such obvious pieces of fiction, Hollywood productions providing us with momentary escapes from our mundane lives. But perhaps not. Even Andrew Niccol, the young New Zealander who wrote "The Truman Show" script in 1993, says: "I used to think the idea was ludicrously far-fetched, but now I have to wonder" ("Time," June 1, 1998, 79). Don't we usually take for granted what the media tells us is the truth? But it is all too easy for the media to create fictions that masquerade as fact. Our world seems more plagued each day by media-created images of reality that are designed to rationalize failed policies and to keep fear alive.
Jesus, in Matthew's gospel, is calling us to wake up the way Neo and Truman do. He wants us to look beyond the fictions of this world that masquerade as fact. In some sense, we are all Neos and Truman Burbanks and Alices who live in worlds that are not the only important—or the true—realities for us.
Jesus said to the disciples, "About that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father...they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of man. Then two will be in the 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. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.
Like Neo and Truman, we must awaken to the truth. Advent calls us to wake, awake, for night is flying. A new dawn begins to break. A new reality is about to encroach upon the one we have come to think of as the only truth, and it will slowly peel away the layers of falsehood, of evil, and of death. The kingdom of heaven is, in the coming of a child, about to usher in a new era.
Still, the world turns to significantly less profound matters.
What time does the world think it is? What are most people anticipating?
Children during Advent hardly notice Advent; they're looking for a materialistic bonanza at Christmas. Adults are expecting back-breaking bills. The world is awaiting the arrival of a short, old, bearded, fat man borne by eight beasts of burden and shouldering a bag of goodies that will satisfy the heart's delight of every person in one night. How absurd can it all get?
In what reality do we exist? For what are we seeking? Where do our hopes lie?
If we judge from the commercial world, the answers to these questions are not very encouraging, or very sound, ethically, morally, or spiritually. Our focus seems to be on the next toy, not a holy baby boy.
Indeed, it seems we have lost the ability to wait, to prepare, to make ready. Even Christians, who know full well that Advent is a season of anticipation decorate their homes as early as Thanksgiving in full Christmas adornment, as if our Lord has come. There remains little willingness to submit to Advent as a season of reflection and spiritual preparation for the coming of a savior for our sinful souls, not a promise of feasting and self-indulgence.
Art Farnsley and Elfriede Wedam of The Polis Center in Indianapolis offer some observations from a recent study of congregations:
- There is a universal sense of disconnection felt between people's personal values and modern society.
And:
- Every community seems to think that they are, or once were, or should be, a small town. They express nostalgia for the past; in the present, "everything has gone awry." Researchers found this attitude in both the suburbs and the inner city. ("Religion and Community," Vol 4, No. 1, Fall 1998)
So, there may be some hope. At least the people of God experience a sense of disconnection between the values we learn from scripture and the ones foisted upon us by Madison Avenue and Washington, DC. At least we know that something is wrong.
For all too many, it is just so difficult to stand to the side as torrents of people inundate the malls and shopping centers on the day after Thanksgiving and for the four weeks following. It is so hard to center in on the depths that this season of Advent has to offer. It's so troublesome to develop the discipline of waiting.
But is it not only that. Jesus says:
Then two will be in the 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.
This passage implies that it is not only waiting we are called to be about. It is also active watchfulness. People still plant, they still reap, the business of life continues unabated. Our readiness requires our walking in the light and putting on the armor of light, as Paul reminds in Romans.
There is plenty to do! We just tend to do the wrong things!
Let me close with an image from a crèche that I have seen. There are three figures in the version of the manger scene, made if memory serves of walnut wood. The two figures on the sides are those of Joseph and Mary. And in the middle is a representation of the manger in which our Lord was laid at his birth. But this is a remarkable piece of art and symbolism. Out of the manger grows a shape that is also well-known among us—a beautifully carved vertical post, intersecting a shorter horizontal bar near the top. It is a cross arising from the manger.
As we begin this important journey of Advent together, I suggest this as a symbol worthy of our spiritual contemplation and personal preparation. Like Mary—like any woman and family on the verge of the new life that grows within, the church is on the way of preparation, anticipation, nesting, anxiety, even grief.
I remember well the months leading to the birth of my first child. Yes, there was excitement like that many feel with the coming of Christmas. But there was also grief. The reality I knew was passing away. Behold a new world was being opened up to me.
The manger and the cross. The fullness of reality, not one part—or an artificially created one, provides a proper focus for the four weeks that stretch before us. Amen.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord, unto eternal life. Amen.
