Sermon, 12/1/24: Is Advent a noun or a verb?

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1 Advent

Psalm 25:1–9; Jeremiah 33:14–16; 1Thessalonians 3:9–13; Luke 21:25–36

You will recall that I spent several weeks this past summer in Germany.  In preparation for that visit, I had billed that time as personal, no clerical or academic responsibilities.  Rather, the purpose of my visit was to relax and reminisce with old friends and colleagues now in retirement, as well as with in-laws, my late wife’s family, and to visit the two universities which I had attended.  Quoting a former President of the United States: “Mission accomplished.”    

I am certain that you are familiar with the name of the German city Frankfurt am Main.  If you have travelled by air to countries on the European Continent, chances are that you have passed through Frankfurt, for it has the largest airport on the Continent.  Frankfurt is also the financial capital of Germany, equivalent to NYC/Manhattan.  In another century, when I wore a younger man’s clothes, I was a university student at the Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Universität. 

During my first years there, Frankfurt was still rebuilding itself after WWII.  Turks, along with Italian and Greeks, were guest workers.  Pock marks on buildings from Allies’ aerial attacks were still visible, and occasionally areas were blocked off when a stray, undetonated bomb had been discovered and had to be removed.

But that was not my job as a student.  Rather, my job was to live the life of a student which demanded visits to Sachsenhausen, a small city by today’s classification, a suburb, just across the Main River.  There, in Sachsenhausen, students spent many late evenings, because one could buy the best tasting Appelwoi, a medium fermented apple cider, reasonably priced for students whose budgets, like my own, were constrained.

Returning late nights to university, one could clearly see, even in a slightly inebriated state, the majestic Sankt Bartholomäus, the Imperial Cathedral of Saint Bartholomew, which stood then and stands even now in that precinct of the city known as Old Town.  In my years at university, its spires could be seen for miles.  You will, of course, recall from your reading of medieval history that everything happened in and around cathedrals.  The cathedral vorplatz, the Cathedral Square, was where all the action took place—weekly markets, demonstrations, parade reviews, etc.

This past summer, I was back in the city, as I said, in order to see old friends, my late wife’s friends from high school and university.  I was again at my first university home in Germany. The second, my truly German alma mater was located circa one hour to the north, in the University Town of Marburg.  But today, the First Sunday in Advent, it is Frankfurt which shapes my reflections.

To reacquaint myself with the city, I did not visit Sachenhausen, ‘having put away childish things.’  Rather, I sought out the cathedral, which meant that I had to walk along the Gallus Anlage, or Gallus Allee, a tree-lined boulevard.   As I walked, I became anxious, thinking that forgetfulness of aging had overtaken me, and that I had lost my way, for I could not see St. Bartholomew Cathedral.  It appeared not to stand where it should have.  Had I entered another dimension?  After all, cathedrals which have stood for centuries, as well as survived the ravages of many wars—cathedrals do not simply walk away from their foundations! 

What I saw and what overwhelmed me were the skyscrapers dedicated to a new religion, that of mercantilism.  I saw Deutsche Bank, where a close friend had worked, but which now was attempting to restore its reputation after standing accused and found guilty of money-laundering with our former and now-again our president-elect.  Then, only a little further up the boulevard, I spied a new cathedral.  It was the Euro Tower, the tallest and newest of the new cathedrals.  Marking its immanence in the immaculately kept grassy knoll in front of the tower stood the tallest metal sculpture which I have seen outside of the outdoor sculpture park in Louisa, Denmark.  There stood not a cross, but a giant circa 12-foot tall Euro symbol.  I crossed myself, yes in public, but not in honor of mammon, but in a prayer that the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, about whose incarnation, of whose birth we reflect in the weeks ahead, could still be found in the city.

I never made it to the old cathedral, but scurried off to the left in the direction of the Zeil, the equivalent of Newbury Street and Washington Street, combined, in downtown Boston, Fifth Avenue in Manhattan, or the Miracle Mile in Chicago.  Not having made it to the cathedral, I hoped to find on the Zeil St. Catherine’s Church, or Katharinenkirche, a place to which I would retreat when my spirit needed a respite/restoration.  From the Euro Tower to St. Catherine’s Church was a 5-minute leisurely walk.  It was during the noon hour.   

To my great amazement and with a voiceless thanksgiving, I saw that that historic church, which survived two world wars, had not been razed in order to make way for an internationally famous name in clothing.  When I arrived at the Katharinakirche, and to my even greater amazement, I saw that the church offered still, after over my five decades’ absence, noon-day organ devotions.  To my greatest wonderment, as I entered, I saw a nave which was nearly filled with suits, the current women and men reminiscent of Michael J. Fox’s 1987 movie “The Secret of my Success.”  Even in their hectic pace, or perhaps because of their hectic pace in the mercantile world, some had come, recognizing their need for a place of retreat, of quiet.

Why, you may rightly ask, do I involve you in my personal trip down memory lane?  You see, this is the first Sunday in Advent 2024.  In some religious circles it has become customary during Advent to rail against the merchant class, the women and men who display Christmas decoration, now often before the first illuminated pumpkins of Halloween have been removed from porches, those who pipe in Christmas carols before the Thanksgiving bird has made its way to our tables.  Advent, according to the truly religious, has become a weak third in the trinity of fall holidays—Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Advent.   We “tisk tisk” this secular disregard for the Holy Season.  Even I, as priest, was also once guilty of accusing those of the mercantile class of disrespecting, of demeaning, this Holy Season of Advent; that is, until I had what we jokingly call a “come to Jesus” moment. 

Over centuries of cultural and even theological indoctrination, we have come to sing lullabies—and I, as one who has studied organ and violin and sung in church choruses in the USA and Germany, admit that the music of Advent and Christmas is some of the most beautiful and inspiring and spiritual uplifting in our culture, the western world.  Those attributes of Advent are very much needed in Advent 2024.  They calm our anxieties, our fears, our doubts.  I, for one, applaud the music of Advent, if I can sit and reflect. However, I dare not, in our day, push aside the real circumstance of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth if we are to believe our Book of Records. 

And what is it that we see in our mind’s eye during Advent?  Images of an adoring, radiant mother, richly attired in blue of royalty, with a halo above her head, of shepherds arriving with gifts and kneeling before a make-shift crib, of a star shining brightly overhead, of barn animals seeming also to acknowledge this unique event—those images we find immortalized in paintings in our museums and churches; but these images do not tell the true story of the Jesus’ first advent into the human world.  As heartwarming as these depictions of the birth of Jesus may be, they lull us into forgetting why God found it necessary to send His Messiah to live among us.  The true Advent should make us ask the hard question, the unimaginable question.

Perhaps, even a series of this-worldly question: Why was it necessary for Joseph, a carpenter, to leave his source of income—to maybe leave it unattended—and to travel without benefit of an SUV with tinted windows on a paved interstate to the City of David?  Answer: the authorities, the Roman occupiers, needed money, in order to fund their armies, their wars, and their residences.  Why is the Virgin Mary depicted on a donkey?  Answer: they were not, she and Joseph, of the 99-percenters, nor even of the 1-percenters of their day.  They did not own a gilded coach or a stretched limousine.  Why was Mary not taken to a hospital where she might have received a level of prenatal medical care appropriate for her, the bearer of the Savior of the world?  Answer: She came from an insignificant village, where healthcare was left to the midwives who were scarcely better off, if at all, than she.  Universal health care was not even a concept for her and Joseph.

The readings of today’s lectionary and those of the following three weeks in Advent become a challenge to people of faith.  The arrival of Jesus of Nazareth took place in real time.  It was not “an event,” a cultural celebration that takes place once a year. For followers of God’s Messiah, Advent is not a show of faith, to be shelved after week four.   Rather, Advent, the real and true Christian advent, is a daily occurrence that allows the Messiah into the busyness of our lives, lives which are on-going no matter where we find ourselves.  Advent defines for us what is important in our lives.  Reflecting on our now retired Primary Bishop Michael Curry’s call to return to the commandments of Jesus, I asked myself repeatedly the following question:  What if Advent were not a noun but rather a verb and, if a verb, not an intransitive verb, a verb of state, but rather a transitive, an actional verb?   

Advent for me is never a time for escape from the world, is never a time given over solely for reflection and introspection; yes that, but also a time for renewal so that we might emerge reinvigorated to forge ahead with the effort that is required to establish on earth that community which is in heaven.  My hope and prayer for us at St. James this Advent is that, even as we recover from another Black Friday and survive the constant jingle of piped Advent/Christmas music, we give thanks to Almighty God that the true story of Advent is continually before us. My hope and prayer is also that we will steal away time to reflect and to watch, after which, being restored, we throw ourselves with vigor into living, truly living, the Advent of the true Jesus Movement.  Amen