Advent 1: Every shakable thing has to be shaken (sermon for Advent 1)
8:00 AM"Cleaning Day?" by Dean Terry, on Flickr |
Then he told them a parable: "Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near. Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all things have taken place. Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.
Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day does not catch you unexpectedly, like a trap. For it will come upon all who live on the face of the whole earth. Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place, and to stand before the Son of Man." (Luke 21:25-36)
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In Wendell Berry’s novel, Jayber Crow, his title character reflects, “History overflows time. Love overflows the allowance of the world. All the vessels overflow, and no end or limit stays put. Every shakable thing has got to be shaken.”
Every shakable thing has got to be shaken. Love overflows the allowance of the world.
If ever there were a poetic way to make sense of today’s readings, these two statements might just be it.
It is the first day of the new church year, and the beginning of the Advent season, where we focus on God's promises and our hope. But we begin this season with a gospel reading that paints us a difficult picture of a trembling creation and a world turned upside-down.
Every shakable thing has to be shaken. Love overflows the allowance of the world.
Advent reminds us that Jesus’ coming shakes things up. Even as we spend the season waiting to hear again the story of Christ’s first entry in the world, we recognize that our entire lives of faith are spent waiting for Christ’s re-entry into the world. And just as Jesus’ birth was heralded by a crazy traveling star and a sky full of angels, at the end of the ages, Christ tells that his return will be marked by “signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.” Jesus says that even “the powers of the heavens will be shaken” when the kingdom of God draws near.
Every shakable thing has to be shaken. Love overflows the allowance of the world.
The message in our gospel reading is clear: when love overflows the allowance of the world, when Christ breaks in – and I mean really breaks in – to our existence, every shakable thing will be shaken. Nothing will be as it once was.
Growing up, I shared a room with my two younger sisters. We slept on bunk beds that were opposite a wall filled with shelving, which held books and records and toys and games. One afternoon when I was about nine years old, we were charged with the simple task of cleaning up our room. The expectation was that we’d put the Legos back in the box and return our stuffed animals to our beds, and really just tidy up the clutter.
But since I was nine years old, in charge of the situation, and, apparently, a Type A personality, I took one look around the room and decided that the only way to truly get things cleaned up was to take everything off of the shelves and completely reorganize the room. A quick-fix tidy-up-the-clutter mentality seemed insufficient to me. So I started pulling books off the shelves. Berenstain Bears and Angelina Ballerina and Amelia Bedelia flew from shelf to floor. CandyLand and Chutes and Ladders sat at the bottom of a pile underneath “Wee Sing Silly Songs” and “Wee Sing Bible Songs” cassette tapes.
You should have seen the look on my mother’s face when she walked into the room, expecting to see things neater, and instead seeing absolute chaos. I calmly and rationally explained to her, “the room will be cleaner if we just take everything down and start over.”
Yes, out of childlike and overflowing love for my appointed task, I turned everything upside down with the hope of making my little world better than it had started.
This is what Jesus is trying to teach us in today’s gospel: that out of God’s overflowing love, he promises us hope and life and reconciliation and redemption, even if it means turning the world upside-down to bring us all of those things.
I suppose that if God loved the world just a little bit, then God would be content to send us quick fixes and temporary patches for the worn and broken parts of our existence. And honestly, I think that most of us, when we pray “thy kingdom come,” only pray it half-earnestly, because we really just want God to send down bits and pieces of a kingdom to fill in the gaps in our human existence.
But is it not true that there are yearnings and fears that need something bigger than merely a taste of the kingdom? Are there not longings and hopes that can only be soothed by a full reversal of life as we know it?
I think of a day earlier this fall when Pastor Miller (my senior pastor) and I spent a Sunday afternoon in two different and very sacred spaces that left us longing for more than just a taste of God’s kingdom.
He spent the afternoon at the bedside of a dying woman from our congregation, having been summoned by her hospice care-givers. He anointed her and prayed with her, as he had done so many times before over the preceding months. He held her hands and held the hands of her grown children, offering them words of God’s peace and hope. And in that moment, the prayer on his heavy heart was an earnest, “thy kingdom come, Lord.”
Meanwhile, I spent the afternoon here at church, at “Ella’s Dance Party,” Zumba-ing with congregation and community members alike to raise funds for two-year-old Ella’s care as she lives with SMA. As I tried to keep step with the dance moves, I kept glancing over at Ella, who was observing the action from her bright pink power wheelchair, her wispy blonde hair held back by a purple clip that matched everyone’s matching purple shirts. I realized in that moment that my heart wanted more than just a cure for Ella. I wanted God to burst in with true healing, full restoration, of body and of spirit, for wholeness. And the prayer on my own heart that afternoon was an earnest, “thy kingdom come.”
Yes, sometimes each one of us faces the truth that we need more than just a taste of the kingdom. We need God to rush into our world, riding on the clouds, spilling out love and peace and redemption into our world…even if it means turning the world upside-down in its wake.
Every shakable thing has to be shaken. Love overflows the allowance of the world.
As you look at your own life, what are your wounds of body, mind, or spirit that require something more profound than a spiritual Band-Aid for healing? What are the aches and pains in your soul that need deep comfort? What are the temptations and longings that weigh you down? What are the anxieties that paralyze you? What are the dark places in your life that need the dawning of God’s new day to brighten them with new life?
Jesus promises us that he will return, and that our lifetimes of advent waiting will not be in vain. Jesus promises us that when all creation trembles about us, and when we feel certain that chaos is about to rule the day, we will yet be able to hold our heads high, for God has promised us his kingdom, and we are not without hope. Jesus assures us that when the world finally breaks open under the weight of God’s love, it is our redemption – and not our destruction – which is drawing near.
Because Jesus has already broken into our human existence once before. He shook a star loose from the sky, he calmed the raging seas, he walked on water, and he reversed people’s fortunes: sick people were healed, outsiders became insiders, justice became mercy. And, on the cross, death became abundant life.
God’s kingdom is already stirring among us. The promise of restoration has already been given to us. And in this waiting gap, we raise our heads in hope, looking to the day when the love of God so overflows the world that it comes crashing through all of our limits and shakes the final foundations of the world. For in this sweep of change, we can see through to a glistening picture of God’s restoration for us and for our world.
Every shakable thing has got to be shaken.
For God’s love overflows the allowance of the world.
And so we pray, “Thy kingdom come, O Lord. Amen.”
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