To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul;
my God, I put my trust in you (Psalm 25:1)
The days of promise and fulfillment are surely coming. The days of justice and righteousness are surely coming. The days of salvation and safety are surely coming. These are words we need to hear this Advent. When the news is grim and there is no shortage of injustice or evil or danger, we are called to hold up God’s promised future. We are to hold it up and live into it.
What a contradiction this is to the sounds of the world around us. The people of Paris are struggling with their response to the recent atrocities in their city. They strive to get back into what was once their daily routine—to not let the violent aggression of some trap them, preventing them from rejoining the joy that calls them to life. But there is also an undercurrent of anxiety and a wrestling with the fear of the other. In a time with millions of people fleeing their war-torn counties seeking safety, the reality of insecurity can lead to calls of closing borders, rejecting those in imminent danger, and even acting in violence toward those perceived to be the enemy.
In our own country, we hear the voices of those who want to be our leaders, calling the nation to shut our doors to the vulnerable, or apply a religious litmus test to those who seek security for their families, or shut down mosques or institute a registration for citizens who are Muslim. And in response we hear too many “hoorahs!” There is plenty of “people fainting from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world.”
The prophet Jeremiah wrote in the midst of chaos, in a time that Jerusalem struggled to survive the menacing threats from its powerful neighbors, Assyria and Babylon to the north and Egypt to the west. Everyone who reads this prophet knows how the story will end, Jerusalem will be conquered by Babylon in 587 BCE and the people will be scattered into exile. It is one of the most troubled and theologically important periods in the Hebrew Bible. The prophet grieves over the state of his society and predicts the disaster that is coming.
Jeremiah writes in the midst of terrible destruction, but even here, he reminds the people that God is with them. That the days are surely coming when God’s promise—God’s covenant with God’s people will be realized. That righteousness and justice will prevail. That leaders will abandon their own self-serving purposes and work together in establishing a society that is safe and good for all.
In our reading today from Jeremiah, we hear from the chapters that are called the “Little Book of Comfort.” Located at the pivot point of the book, we are invited to see God as healer, as mother, as justice-seeker. It provides hope for people who are suffering and attempting to survive what seems to be hopeless situations.
By reading the writing of the prophets in Advent we are pointed to the importance of waiting, anticipating, and trusting in a promised future that can seem very removed from our current circumstance. But it is in the very time of Advent that we are invited to be alert, to not let worry or dissipation keep us from seeing the sprouts of God’s goodness breaking into our world. Alongside the prophet we are called not only to name suffering and injustice, but to embrace (lean in to) God’s promised future.
Where do we see God’s promises being fulfilled? Examples of people of faith working for justice and mercy are everywhere.
In the midst of talk of war and violence, there is faithful, life-giving work being done in Western Massachusetts. Ascentria Care Alliance, formerly Lutheran Social Services,with over 60 centers, strives to help those in need rise together and meet the challenges of life. One person helped by this organization is Zid al Nasar, who never dreamt that his family would be in America. But after fleeing violence and random bombings in their home in Daraa Syria, Nasar and his family are grateful to be living and working in Westfield. “(People) go through land and sea and die for a safe haven. They walk for hundreds and thousands of miles to find safe haven and to run away from death.” Ascentria has resettled 30 Syrian families in Massachusetts over the past year.[1] Many churches have opened their doors and their hearts to support immigrants and refugees in our country.
NPR recently interviewed a group of five roommates in Toledo, Ohio, four of them college students and one a refugee from Syria. One of the roommates who works part-time at an off-campus church was asked why he decided to take in a refugee as a roommate, what was his motivation? Doug, the roommate answered, “My immediate answer just sounds so cliché, but I think the motive is love. I was told he’s coming and that I have an opportunity to help him out. And I was like, yeah, why wouldn’t I do that? I just love Mohammed, and I just want to help him out.” Mohammed’s parents and sisters remain in a camp in Jordan.[2]
During the holy month of Ramadan, three Muslim organizations responded to the burning of churches with predominately black congregations by raising over $100,000 to rebuild them. These organizations wanted to make sure that the churches were restored as soon as possible. On July 2 they launched their “Respond with Love” campaign. On their website they said, “”ALL houses of worship are sanctuaries, a place where all should feel safe, a place we can seek refuge when the world is too much to bear…The time is now, let’s unite to help our sisters and brothers in faith. “[3]
Here in the Berkshires, our own Taft Farm is engaged in providing support for brothers and sisters who are fleeing violence in their countries in Mexico and South America. They help in finding them a safe place to stay and then assist in beginning the long road toward becoming legal immigrants. This process is arduous and costly, but it recognizes that showing compassion for the suffering is central to our biblical faith, and welcoming “the stranger” is a direct response to the instructions of Jesus. There are signs of God’s kingdom everywhere.
In times of distress we are called to follow a Savior who shows us that only by reaching out, does healing takes place; that in giving from what we have, all can be fed with much left over; that by refusing to give in to violence and revenge, love wins over hate and life wins over death.
Heidi Neumark, a Lutheran pastor who writes about this holy season amid her ministry in very poor neighborhoods in the Bronx says that:
“Advent unfailingly embraces and comprehends my reality. And what is that? I think of the Spanish word anhelo, or longing. Advent is when the church can no longer contain its unfulfilled desire and the cry of anhelo bursts forth: Maranatha! Come Lord Jesus! O Come, O Come Emmanuel”[4]
As the first candle of Advent burns, Jeremiah recalls his own city burning and yet he speaks not of destruction but of God’s future as he offers his cry of longing of anhelo.
As I listen to the cries of Jeremiah throughout the span of his prophecy, I long for the day that is surely coming when God’s future has no space for violence. I long for the day that is surely coming in God’s future when no child has to grow up fearing for his or her life, when every child has enough food to eat, and hope to share for their future. I long for the day that is surely coming when God’s future affords no room for hatred, a day when our world is no longer torn apart by racism, sexism, homophobia, and xenophobia. I long for the day that is surely coming in God’s future when no one has to face life alone without community– friends or family.
I long for us all to know God who Jeremiah proclaims and whom Jesus will incarnate—God who hears the longing of the people. I long for all to know, not the God of fanaticism or bigotry, who delights in the suffering of the other, but the God who, in God’s own time will bring more mercy and justice that we can ever grasp. For what do you long as you wait for the days that are surely coming?
In a few moments, we will all be invited to the holy table of Jesus Christ. In many ways, Jeremiah’s promise that “the days are surely coming” finds its most perfect expression at this table. This table is not about a star or three kings, but a world much like what we experience today—a world filled with violence and anger, strewn with innocent victims of power gone mad. It is not a table draped in sentimentality and romance, but set with food paid for by a price much too dear. It is not just a table of anhelo, it is the table for all with deep longings, people who pray with Jeremiah, for the days that are surely coming.
With the world he has known crumbling around him, Jeremiah pushes his people to see a future, God’s future, which seems absurd given the current circumstances. But then as now, we are called to stand up and proclaim what God says is surely coming. It is for this that we hope and for which we live.[5]
Advent is located in a time of human struggle where sin reigns supreme and hope can be a distant dream. But Advent is also a time of heightened awareness, not to the threat of terror, but to the inevitable coming of God’s promise in his son, Jesus.
Do not let your “hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.” Jesus, teaching as a second Jeremiah, comforts us in saying, “The world’s a scary place, but don’t let your hearts be troubled. I have overcome the world. So look for it, be alert to it, for what seems to be all darkness, there is wonder and redemption afoot.”
And with this the church begins a new year. We begin afresh, not just on the calendar, but in our hearts, in our community, in the larger world, and in our longing for the days that are surely coming filled with God’s promise.
Maranatha! Come Lord Jesus! O Come, O Come Emmanuel!
[1] Source: http://www.necn.com/news/new-england/Refugee-Reality-Family-Shares-Story-of-Survival-from-Syria-to-the-US-353173851.html
[2] http://www.npr.org/2015/10/21/450611793/an-odd-group-of-5-roommates-welcome-syrian-refugee-into-toledo-ohio-home
[3]https://www.launchgood.com/project/respond_with_love_rebuild_black_churches_support_victims_of_arson_across_the_south
[4] Heidi Neumark, Breathing Space. Boston: Beacon Press, 2004, 211.
[5] Justo L. Gonzalez. Belief: a theological commentary on the Bible. Luke. Louisville: Westminster John Knox. 2010. 236-243