FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, ATLANTA, GEORGIA
Communion Meditation by Dr. George Bryant Wirth
The First Sunday of Advent
November 28, 2004
CHRIST AT THE CENTER:
Scripture: Isaiah 43:14-21; John 1:19-23
The thunder and heavy rains over the past two weeks have reminded me of something that happened in our home back in the 1980’s. Our daughter Aly was 8, our son Matthew was 4, and Pittsburgh was hit by a severe storm that knocked out the power for 24 hours all across the city.
We found some candles in the closet, lit them and hunkered down in the kitchen, waiting for the darkness to turn into the light of dawn. Hoping to calm our children down, I told them about my growing up in eastern Long Island and the hurricane that hit our little town of Sag Harbor in 1953. “Along with candles,” I said to them, “we had kerosene lanterns that helped us make it through the night, and when the morning broke, the hurricane was over.”
Our children listened quietly and I thought my story had soothed their anxiety. But then, little Matthew looked up at Barbara and me and asked the question: “Mom, dad, what was it like growing up in the old days without electricity?”
Well, that was 1983 and our children, who are older and wiser now, are well aware that their parents weren’t raised in the dark ages. But the thought has occurred to me, and I share it with you this morning, that some of us look back nostalgically at what we call “the good old days,” longing for what has been…while others of us look forward toward the future and new possibilities, hoping for what is yet to be. On this first Sunday in the Advent Season, my hunch is that most of us are somewhere in between – holding on to something old, and hoping for something new.
That’s the way it was for the prophet Isaiah back in the 6th century B.C. He and his people had been captured by the armies of King Nebuchadrezzar (587 B.C.) and carried off into exile in ancient Babylon, which is present day Iraq.
The Israelites could not understand why God had allowed them to be taken away from the Promised Land. But during the exile, when some of the biblical passages about suffering were written down in what we Christians now call the Old Testament (Deuteronomy 32, Psalm 137, Isaiah 40-48, Lamentations), those ancient Hebrews held onto their religious traditions of worship and prayer, asking the Lord to restore them someday to the place where they had come from (See “The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible,” section on “Exile,” pages 186-188, and Isaiah,” page 737).
And so it was that Isaiah prophesied, as is recorded in our lesson today:
Thus says the Lord, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: “For your sake I will send to Babylon and break down all the bars…I am the Lord your King…Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold I am doing a new thing: now it springs forth. Do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert…to give drink to my chosen people…that they might declare my praise…” (Isaiah 43:14-21, selected verses)
You see, as they were holding on to something old, God promised those people hope in something new. And a generation later, with the help of King Cyrus and the Persians (539 B.C.), the Hebrews did return to their home place for a while.
But it would be 500 more years before the rest of that prophecy came into view, as John the Baptist was preaching in the hills of Judea outside of Jerusalem. The crowds who came to hear him were getting all stirred up, so the religious leaders sent representatives to ask the question, “Who are you?”
John the Baptist replied “I am not the Christ.” “Then who are you?” they wanted to know. “What do you say about yourself?” And he answered in the prophetic words of Isaiah, I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord! (John 1:19-23)
All these centuries later, we Christians believe that those words were meant to lead us to the Holy Child named Jesus, who came into this world to save and to redeem us. And that is what this Advent-Christmas season reveals to us – something old, that takes us back to ancient places and people and prophecies from long, long ago…and something new, the birth of a Baby which split time in two, from B.C. to A.D., and has brought the promise of hope, joy, peace and love to all of humanity.
During these days in Advent, as we continue to focus on our church theme, “Christ at the Center,” we are going to let the prophet Isaiah and John the Baptist show us the way to Bethlehem. And it is my personal hope and prayer that each of us and all of us will be drawn closer to Jesus our Savior and Lord than we have ever been before.
II
Now as we conclude this sermon and celebrate Holy Communion, I want to ask you the same question which those religious leaders asked John the Baptist: “What do you say about yourself?” In other words, “Where are you today as we begin the journey and prepare to make our way toward Christmas?”
If you are holding on to something old that is good, then rejoice in it! It happened to me just yesterday, as I was visiting with Helen Akers, a long-time member here whom I have visited most every weekend since she suffered a stroke.
We were celebrating communion together in her home, and I asked the question, “Helen, do you know what today is?” She answered “Saturday,” and I went on to add “Saturday, the 27th of November, which is the fifteenth anniversary of the day that you and the other members of the search committee called me on the phone up in Pittsburgh and said that you would like me to become the pastor of this church.” Helen smiled and replied, “And it’s a good thing that you said ‘Yes,’ young man!”
Are you holding on to something old like that – happy memories of days gone by, people who have made a difference in your life, and moments in time that bring joy to your heart? If so, then rejoice in those things and bring them along with you on this Advent journey.
But if you are holding on to old grudges or resentment, to regrets or remorse, to grief or any other kind of emotional pain that has locked you in and might be keeping others out, then ask God in this Advent season to help you let those old things go as His Holy Spirit helps to heal your soul.
Moreover, if you are fearful about the future and apprehensive about something new – about new relationships, new responsibilities, new possibilities which might lie ahead, then get down on your knees, bow your head and in prayer, turn over to God all of your anxieties and ask Him to give you the peace that you need, the peace which the angels promised on that first Christmas Eve.
However, if you are looking forward to something new – the new challenges that God holds in store for you, the potential for change, the opportunities to serve others in the name of Jesus, and the renewal of your faith as you come to Christmas – if that is so, then hold on to the hope of something new which the Lord of Life offers to you!
John Claypool, in his book “The Hopeful Heart,” tells about how it happened to him many years ago:
“When I began to serve a church in Louisville, Kentucky, in 1960, I immediately aligned myself with groups that were working to heal our cultural sickness (racism), and that is how I met this gracious old rabbi. We were an odd couple in many ways. He was in his seventies, and his family had been through the Holocaust in Eastern Europe. He knew much about the dark side of human existence while I, on the other hand, was very naïve and had not yet been initiated into the fraternity of suffering.
We were working together in the Civil Rights Movement and, one afternoon, we participated in a very tense meeting with several African American ministers. They finally stormed out in a rage, accusing us whites of having no courage, and what began as a hopeful endeavor ended in total frustration. We happened to be meeting in this rabbi’s synagogue, and as I left, I said to him, ‘I think it is hopeless. This problem is so old, so deep, so many-faceted, there is simply no way out of it.’ He responded by saying, ‘If you have a few minutes, I would like to talk to you about what you have just said.’ With that, he ushered me into his study and we both sat down.
I still remember how unhurriedly he lit his pipe and disappeared for a moment in a cloud of smoke. As the smoke began to dissipate, he said, ‘I need to tell you something, young man. To the Jew, there is only one unforgivable sin, and that is the sin of despair.’ He continued, ‘Humanly speaking, despair is presumptuous. It is saying something about the future that we have no right to say because we have not been there yet and do not know enough. Think of the times you have been surprised in the past as you looked at a certain situation and deemed it hopeless. Then, lo and behold, forces that you did not even realize existed broke in and changed everything. We do not know enough to embrace the absolutism of despair and, theologically speaking, despair is downright heretical. If God can create the things that are from the things that are not, and even make dead things come back to life, who are we to set limits on what that kind of potency may yet do?’
That exchange occurred over forty years ago, yet here I am recounting these words once again because of the powerful impact they had on me. This is exactly what Saint Paul affirmed in his twofold depiction of our human situation, and that is how I came to believe that humility before what we do not know and acceptance of what we do know from Scripture can lead us into ‘the promised land’ of hope.”
(“The Hopeful Heart,” by John R. Claypool, Moorehouse Publishing, Harrisburg, PA, pages 20-22)
CONCLUSION
My friends: that hope is available to each of us and all of us today! And that is what this Advent season is all about – Something Old and Something New. As we come to the communion table now, it is time for us to offer ourselves to the Lord – all that we have been, all that we are and all that we could ever hope to be – believing that God in Jesus Christ has the power to transform our lives and set us free. For the old has passed away, says the Lord, and behold, I make all things new!
In the name of the Father, and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.