A young couple learns that they are pregnant. The first days upon making this discovery are filled with the waxing and waning sensations of excitement, fear, and utter disbelief. As those first days pass and the weeks and months drag on, the couple settles into a more stable oscillation of excitement, fear, and disbelief. But whatever else their nine months entails, it most assuredly does not include passivity or lack of attention. Theirs is an active and faithful waiting. They do the things that give life. She reads Dr. Spock and paints the nursery. He puts together the crib. They both gaze with wide-eyed amazement at the changes in her abdomen as God’s blessing grows within her, until they can feel and even see the child move, rolling and pitching like a ship at sea. Their waiting is marked by prenatal visits to the doctor, sonograms and blood tests. There are anxious moments. There are wondrous moments. And there is an attentive and faithful waiting. The birth will come, and it will be glorious. The couple can prepare. They can tend to this blessing they have been given. But the moment that this child will arrive no one can say. And so they wait.
A 92-year-old woman has outlived most of her friends. She enjoys a clear mind, but her body will not respond to her will the way it once did. She is not depressed, at least not often, but she does wonder why she remains when so many have gone. She does not fear death, knowing in faith that death is a transition rather than an end. And so she waits. But hers, too, is an active and faithful waiting. She does the things that give life. She writes letters, and when she is unable to hold a pen, she asks the woman who cooks her meals to write the words for her. She talks to her family, passing on the stories that have informed her life and formed her wisdom. She mends the tears that unavoidably have occurred in some relationships over so long a life. She talks to God regularly, and listens for God even more. There are anxious moments. There are wondrous moments. And there is attentive and faithful waiting. The woman’s reunion with loved ones gone before and with God will come, and it will be glorious. The woman can prepare. She can tend to the blessings she has been given. But the moment that she will enter larger life no one can say. And so she waits.
A father reaches down from the heights of the cosmos and dips his hand into the chaos and void. He moves back the darkness and ushers in the light. He breathes over the waters and brings forth life. He bestows upon the creation every blessing, most especially the gift of free will, to determine for itself the kind of world it will be. The father looks on with pain and sorrow as the creation makes choices that lead to destruction and death. People kill one another. Nations wage war. Those charged to be stewards of creation instead butcher and use the green earth in ways that cannot be sustained. Knit into this father’s tapestry of creation is a Savior, one who will come and offer redemption to those who have fallen so very far, but the time has not yet come. And so the father waits. His is an active and faithful waiting. He does the things that give life. He comes to those in need. He cries with those who sorrow. He labors to melt stony hearts. There are anxious moments. There are wondrous moments. And there is attentive and faithful waiting. The time will come for the Savior’s birth. The time will come for his Second Coming, when the creation will be mended and made whole, and it will be glorious. But the time is not yet. And so the father waits.
No one likes to wait. When given a choice, we are all people of instant gratification. But blessedly, in those instances in which we have no choice we at times experience waiting as a profound gift. It is just such experiences that should inform our approach to Advent, as we again wait upon the Lord. There will be anxious moments. There will be wondrous moments. But if we wait actively and in anticipation, when Christmas comes it will be glorious.
The Reverend Barkley Thompson, Rector – St. John’s Episcopal Church
St. John’s is located at the corner of Jefferson St. and Elm Ave. in downtown Roanoke. The congregation gathers for worship on Sundays at 8 a.m., 9 a.m., 11 a.m. and 5 p.m. St. John’s is found on the web at www.stjohnsroanoke.org.
