Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

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Jesus said to be wary of false prophets, those who say the kingdom of God is at hand, and point to certain signs, "Look here! Look there!" "There will be signs," he said, "but as to when," he said, "nobody knows. Not even I." Don't count on a warning. The only answer is to stay awake. Be ready always. "Watch, therefore, for ye know not when the Master of the house cometh, whether at even, or at midnight, or at cockcrow." Be prepared. Watch.

This is a major theme in the New Testament, but not an easy one: that the end will come, and its coming will be good news or bad news, depending on our readiness. Buck O'neal, the great first-baseman for the Kansas City Monarchs of the old Negro League, tells of two ball players who deeply loved the game and used to debate very seriously whether there would be baseball in heaven. Eventually one died, and after several years he appeared to the other in a dream. "Well," said the one who was still living, "Do they play baseball in heaven or don't they?" "I've got good news and bad news," said the other. "Give me the good news first." "O.K. The good news is that, yes, they do play baseball in heaven. The bad news is that you're pitching tomorrow."

In the Bible, sometimes the end of time is portrayed as a good and wonderful thing, as when a shiny "new Jerusalem" drops down from heaven, more beautiful than a bride on her wedding day. But in other places the end is seen as a frightening event, arriving (Jesus said) like a thief in the night. Theologians have sliced and diced all the end-of-time scriptures, tried to make sense of them, tried to make them all compatible with each other, but with limited success. Either the New Testament writers differed in their views of what the end would be like, or our minds are not capable of understanding how all their visions fit together. Or both. But to get hung up on the details like that, is to make the same mistake as those who were looking for signs: it is to miss the forest for the trees. The main ideas are enough, and they are agreed upon: that there will be an end, that it will come without warning (but not without signs), and that it will be wonderful for those who are prepared, and unspeakably horrible for those who are not. Good news and bad news at the same time.

Advent is a season of preparation, of getting ready. But wait! Advent is the Christmas vigil, isn't it? "Getting ready," in Advent, means getting ready for the Christchild. Right? Yes, but faith lives in a timeless world where the Christchild comes in many ways, and being ready covers many things, past, present, future, all at the same time. Some were ready and waiting on that first Christmas, waiting for the baby Jesus: Mary and Joseph were, so were the shepherds with their simple faith, so were the wise men. But many, like the innkeeper, hadn't prepared a place for him. Some are ready for Christmas today (measuring heart readiness, not shopping days), and some are not. Some are ready for Christ to burst into their lives, convicting them, and making them new men and women. Some are not. Some are ready to live, some are ready to die. Many are neither.

Readiness is such a crucial issue that entire liturgical season, Advent, is given over to it. That is so because our God has proven himself to be an intrusive God. All through the Bible, all through the history of the church, God comes when least expected. Barges in. Bursts onto the scene. And the prophecy is that he will come that way at the end. So readiness is everything. We can't get ready; we have to be ready. He came to Peter, at the worst possible time -- when he was just trying to save his skin -- came in the crowing of a cock. The finger of suspicion had been pointed at Peter, and he was trying to wriggle out of it. Certainly a little lie, in self-defense, is all right. "I don't know Jesus," he said. "Never heard of him." And in the distance a cock crowed, and for the first time in his life Peter saw himself for what he really was, and began to weep bitter tears, went out onto the porch and sobbed uncontrollably. And just then they led Jesus by, and he saw Peter crying, and Jesus knew, I think, that God had finally broken through that hard, callous heart, and given him a leader for his church. When a cock crows, it is the trumpet of the morning. And, in fact, a new day had come for Peter and for the Church. God bursts into our lives when we least expect it, in ways never dreamed of. And his coming is good news, if we are ready.

Christ also comes to us in death, our own or someone else's, and it is desperately important for us to be prepared. Just as in the case of the second coming, we don't know (can't know) the exact hour of our deaths, nor when a loved one might be taken away. Watch, therefore, for ye know not when the Master of the house cometh…" Since we cannot know when, we need to be ready all the time. The old tent preachers used to ask, "Are you ready to meet your God?" And there were roadside signs to that effect. That's an honest question. Emphasize ready. Do we have our affairs in order, are we "in love and charity with our neighbors?" Are there things we need to do, or undo, before we leave this place. Today is the day. In fact, this is the very hour. Are there others who need to be told how much we love them, how much they mean to us, before they are snatched away? So often, at a time of death, there is regret: "I feel terrible. My last words to him were harsh and scolding." "I never had a chance to tell her…." Do it now. Don't wait. Be prepared. "…ye know not when the Master of the house cometh."

We hate surprises. At some level we are all control freaks, and it drives us crazy that some things (the most important things, in fact) are beyond our control. Life is like one person watching television while someone else handles the remote. Just when you get interested in one channel, just when you feel at home in the story, the channel changes. You didn't cause the change, but you have to live with it. We hate that. We build up immunities against mystery and surprise. We plan carefully. We get caller ID, so we won't be surprised whose on the line, so we can control who we talk to. We ask for a sign, because if we have a sign we can still be in control. Just tell us, Lord, when the end will come (so we can get it on our calendars). Just tell us, Lord, when you will break into our hearts and make us new (so we won't be surprised). Just tell us, Lord, when we (or a friend) will die, so we can tie up loose ends. But these things we cannot know. We simply have to be prepared.

The words "Advent" and "adventure" come from the same root. Christian life is an adventure, a pilgrimage, a trip we take with little certainty about where we are going, or how to get there, or what will happen to us along the way. (Like the journey of the wise men, following a star.) It is important to put our faith and trust in God for this trip, but it is also important to prepare ourselves. When will the Christchild come? We don't know the actual date of Jesus' birth, and that is good. For it makes every day his birthday. The adventure of Advent is to travel hand in hand with God, not knowing but trusting, and being ready, at all times, to arrive where we are going.