I remember my fifth birthday well. It was the first time I had friends over for my birthday party. The theme was trains because I LOVED trains. I was dressed up in my little conductor’s costume as my friends arrived. We had a great time playing and talking. My mother went so far as to make a birthday cake made in the shape of a train engine. Needless to say I was in train heaven. After the first hour we gathered around the table for train cake and ice cream. This was the fantastic closing to my already fantastic day. My parents wanted us to say a prayer before we started eating. I was so excited it hurt, all I wanted to do was try my train cake. Everyone closed their eyes and bowed their heads, knowing that they had to wait a minute or two more until they could have cake. Everyone waited, except for me, I simply couldn’t bear to wait any longer. As soon as I saw that everyone had closed their eyes I reached for the cake, grabbed some in my hands, and shoved the sugary goodness in my mouth. I tried to clean off my hands and face before the prayer was over, but wouldn’t you know it, my all-wise parents found me out.

Patience, the ability to wait for a gift, was not my strong suit. Being part way through the wonderful experience of my birthday wasn’t enough, I wanted the whole deal, and I wanted it then and there. I am not alone in my inability to live in the midst of a moment and be patient. Simply put, patience is not a strength of our culture. As Americans we are taught to grab life by the horns, to get what we want, to satisfy our desires here and now. The idea of savoring a moment, of accepting the unfolding of life as it comes, as opposed to rushing to the "end" is nearly antithetical to our culture. According to some, grabbing that cake at my fifth birthday was exactly what I was supposed to do; I knew what I wanted, why should I wait?

Being patient, waiting, is one of the clear messages of Advent. We are called to be a people who wait, and who, in waiting discover the life-giving, grace-filled presence of God. On this third Sunday of Advent, of waiting and preparing, we are called to be a people who live in the midst of the present reality of God and the World while still waiting for all that God has in store.

This sense of patient longing, patient expectation, is found not only in Advent but also throughout our readings. Think for a moment Isaiah’s powerful and beautiful vision of a new world in which all that is desolate, all that is dead, is brought to life; in God’s future even the desert shall bloom and abound with life. Isaiah’s powerful vision of a new reality in which sorrow and sighing shall disappear is incredibly appealing. And yet this vision, written well-over 2,500 years ago after many Jews had begun to return to their homeland from exile, has yet to come to fruition. The reality of terrorism, hostile neighbors, and a seemingly endlessly stalled peace-process all point to the inescapable fact that Israel still lives outside the fulfillment of Isaiah’s vision. Israel still waits.

Similarly think of the Magnificat which we said (sang) this morning. Mary’s song is the result of deep and powerful hope, and an incredible sense of patience in the midst of an unfolding process. Realize that Mary has only just heard the news that she is to be the Theotokos, the mother of the Incarnate Word of God. She isn’t even out of her first trimester yet! Similarly, Mary has yet to learn what her Son’s ministry and life will fully be. Mary will soon learn that her Son, though he be the promised Messiah, will be a source of deep pain for her. His life, his teaching, his death will all be filled with both joy and pain. Through him salvation has come into the world, yet through him, even as he incarnates God’s kingdom, the world will be divided. And yet even in the midst of all of this, even in the midst of an inexplicable pregnancy, even in the midst of the portents which point to the tumult that Christ will cause, Mary is rejoicing as she waits; rejoicing with a hope that continues to echo through the years through this song.

Finally, John the Baptist is an exquisite example of what is demanded of us as Christians as we live in the midst of a life in which Christ has come, but Christ’s kingdom has not been fully realized. Stuck in a filthy prison, no doubt expecting in some way his future death at the hands of a corrupt king, John was filled with doubt. The Christ, the One who should be inaugurating the Kingdom of God was NOT acting the way John, or most other faithful Jews, expected Jesus to act. In place of throwing out the Roman Empire and rejecting those who had sided with their pagan power-structure, Jesus was going so far as welcoming tax collectors and other Roman collaborators. In place of Isaiah’s vision of vengeance and terrible recompense, Jesus was showing mercy. Even though John had experienced the power of Christ on the day when Mary’s Magnificat was sung and he jumped for joy in his mother’s womb, even though he told thousands upon thousands that Jesus was the promised one, even so, John doubted. Sitting in prison John lost his patience and found himself unable to wait any longer.

John sent messengers to Jesus asking what was going on. Why was the world still broken and not made whole as the prophets had foretold? Why were the Godly still imprisoned while the unjust continued to hold power? Why were sorrow and sighing such a reality when they should have fled? John found himself full of doubt, full of gnawing questions. Standing in the midst of the coming Kingdom of God was simply too hard for even this great prophet who was called to prepare the way.

Jesus’ response to John’s impatience, John’s doubt, is incredibly reassuring. In the face of John’s doubt and questions Jesus does not respond in anger. Instead he refocuses John’s eyes on the reality of God’s coming reign. It was true that Rome continued to hold power. It was true that injustice continued to plague the earth, it was true that sorrow and sighing were still a reality. But at the same time the reign of God was present, the deaf could hear, the blind could see, the broken were being made whole, people divided by race, stereotypes and politics were being made one. Christ had come, and as a result of this first advent and as a result of his followers ministry, the Kingdom was coming into being. Isaiah’s vision of a new world was taking shape. In his impatience, John had been unable to refocus his eyes and see the kingdom which was coming into being right in front of him.

Just like John we too have heard the news of Christ. Just like John we too have experienced the powers of Christ. We have met the Messiah who brings wholeness and life through small groups, through the Church, through the study of the Word of God. Just like John we too know that God is doing something incredible, something that will bring Isaiah’s vision into being in our midst. And yet, even with that knowledge, we too often find ourselves loosing patience, loosing hope, unable to wait.

Just as Jesus does not reprimand John and instead refocused John’s eyes, in the same way, Jesus does not rebuke us when we struggle and we doubt. Such questions are part of living in the midst of the coming kingdom and not at the completion of the kingdom. Such doubt is not a sign of a weak faith, but instead of taking the Word of God seriously, of struggling with what we hear Christ say and then trying to understand what it is that we see around us. Christ does not rebuke us, instead he calls for us to refocus our eyes, to be held up by our sisters and brothers in the faith who are doing the Kingdom work of God in the midst of this broken world. Christ calls us to be patient, to wait.

Two Wednesdays ago SYG, St. John’s Youth Group, went climbing at Livonia’s Rec. Center. It was a fantastic experience watching youth from this parish climb a wall which is taller than our cross. Among the many incredible parts of that night was watching one youth scaling a climbing route quickly and confidently. About three-quarters of the way up he stopped. The end was in sight, but he simply didn’t have the strength to go on. The person belaying him encouraged him, and then simply said, "stop, let me help you, rest, don’t give up." And the youth did just that, he stopped, and he trusted the person belaying him, and he rested leaning on their strength. And then, having literally been upheld by someone else, the youth continued to climb, reaching the goal.

In this time of Advent, of living in between the first coming of Christ and his return, we too are called to have patience. We are called to wait and to trust that God is with us in the midst of life. God is with us in the midst of conflict, hurt, and doubt. Even here, God continues to be with us, to refocus our eyes on the Kingdom which is already here, which is taking shape every day through the faithful actions of Christ’s followers, people like you and me. Even in the midst of so much uncertainty Christ offers us joy, the joy of Mary. Christ offers us support from fellow sisters and brother, be it through prayer, a kind word, or holding us up when we are exhausted. Christ is calling us to be present, to be patience, to wait and thus to see and feel the power and presence of God at work in this place. May these last two weeks of Advent offer us an opportunity to patiently wait. To stay present in the time between the first coming of Christ and the final completion of God’s kingdom. May we find even here, in the midst of all those things which challenge us and confuse us, the loving response of Jesus which helps us to see God’s Spirit at work in the world.

Amen.