God of the living word, give us the faith to receive your message, the wisdom to know what it means, and the courage to put it into practice. Amen.
Come, O come Emmanuel, you are the way, the truth and the life; you are the true vine and the bread of life. Come, living Savior, come to your world which waits for you. Amen.
“You know what time it is,” Paul writes to the Romans, “how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep.”
This past year I became aware of a single leaf on a tree outside our sunroom window. The leaf has flourished on a young Crimson Maple tree. From the perspective of our kitchen counter, I could watch the leaf each morning as I ate my breakfast. My leaf appears distinct from his sisters and brothers because, from my point of view, he hangs from a branch to the far left, almost touching the branches of a large evergreen.
My leaf bounces around in the wind and, through summer into early autumn, glows a pretty dark red color in the midday sun.
During the recent very dry months, I’ve wondered how my leaf and the mother tree were holding up. What stress points might show on the tree and its leaves?
After returning from our fall trip to France, I noticed that all the leaves were fraying around the edges – showing the strain of drought. Or maybe the leaves, my leaf, were just showing fatigue from the season, naturally beginning to separate and fall to the ground.
This past week all the leaves of the maple--including my lone friend on that little branch to the far left--broke away, scattering on the gardens to nourish next year’s perennial blooms.
I’m sure my leaf has a story to tell – perhaps like my own story, and yours, of seasons and changes through the years.
During the spring, summer and early fall, my leaf and indeed all of the maple leaves nourish the entire tree and root network. From my point of view, this leaf was happily doing its part, not knowing when its work would be finished – at least for this season.
Now a biologist might say the leaf has a new job description, composting and enriching the soil all around the tree (or becoming a prop for my Sunday sermon).
A new season has evolved. The signs of change are unmistakable. Though the maple is bare, we trust it is hibernating and still thriving with its stores of food for a cold winter. Or—maybe not. The extreme drought may have caused such stress that much of our vegetation will just not wake up in the spring.
Amazingly though, a few “volunteers,” little saplings, trees and shrubs, have already poked up from the ground. How are they doing so well? Ah, the mysteries of nature. Even Rett Davis is perplexed by natural phenomena for which we often have no clear answer.
The signs of a new church season are here. No, it is more than a new season. It is a new presence--a divine presence. We are part of an emerging season called Advent. Paul asks us if we are awake. Beyond our understanding, the wisdom of the prophets advises us that something, someone is coming. A new Jerusalem, a new tree, a new crown of leaves, a new leaf, a new Kingdom, a new hope will soon take hold.
On this first Sunday in Advent, we only have only hints…. hints and guesses. The word of the Lord shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples…beating their swords into plowshares…their spears into pruning hooks. Salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers.
“About the day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”
The sages move us into disciplined, observant prayer. Our worship service surely feels different from last week’s Christ the King Sunday.
The worship services of Advent are in marked contrast to the secular world beyond our church doors. Festive songs of the holiday season ring through radios and extravagantly decorated shopping malls. But here in this sacred place, the trees are bare, the forest waits. The tone is solemn; the blue, darker hangings are placed around the altar. The celebrant stands at the altar facing the same direction as the congregation. All of us are watchful, we wait, anticipate, seek to know these suggestions of a new season.
When and how will come the promised Immanuel of God, this new presence of life among us?
We reflect perhaps upon our own struggle with faith, times of failure and guilt, of losing touch with God.
We know that worship services of celebration are planned. Someday soon we may rejoice in the Incarnation, celebrate the miracle of birth of our Lord and a new crown of leaves on the metaphorical tree of life.
We have hints there will be a pageant portraying the very moments of our Lord’s appearance on earth. Alex Stevens, a senior member or our youth program, actually volunteered a year ago for the responsibility of producing and directing the 2007 pageant, and supporting Alex will be many of Holy Comforter’s youth--as well as veteran pageant coordinator Gregg Lee.
We know a pageant will be a part of our 5:30 pm service on Christmas Eve. We know the choir is preparing glorious music for the Lessons and Carols service of the fourth Sunday of the Advent season—and for a magnificent late-night candlelight Christmas Eve service.
Throughout Advent Sundays at Holy Comforter, children’s classes as well the adult classes learn more about the principal characters of the Nativity Story—who were these people, these shepherds, wise men, Joseph and Mary? How are such ordinary people so extraordinary—so central to new presence of God in our lives?
My leaf, now turned apparently beyond its season of life, is yet a clue to the wondrous process of life. God takes my hand and walks with me into a quiet, dark Advent season—and assures me of new seasons to come.
“You know what time it is,” Paul says, “How it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep.”
Come, O come Emmanuel, you are the way, the truth and the life; you are the true vine and the bread of life. Come, living Savior, come to your world which waits for you.
Amen.
The Episcopal Church of the Holy Comforter, a parish of The Episcopal Diocese of North Carolina
Copyright ©2007 The Episcopal Church of the Holy Comforter. All rights reserved.