Third Monday of Advent
Scripture Reading for Today:
Waiting for Morning
“Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD. Lord hear my voice…”
The psalmist pens a cry universal to our experience. Perhaps, the deep longing strikes a more poignant and universal chord during this year of pandemic disruption and, often unwelcome, change.
We have all felt the pain, the longing, the regret, the uncertainty, the dark nights, and the anguish expressed by the psalmist – sometimes less so, and sometimes in a way that is overwhelming:
When we are up late working on a project, we berate ourselves for our procrastination, or our inability to bring things to a successful conclusion as we struggle and strain.
When we have had sharp words, a disagreement, or a relationship has suddenly dropped, then our tears continue unabated through the night.
When we sit by the bed of a sick child, we listen to the laboured breathing, not sure if the illness is worsening and how we should respond.
When we face an uncertain financial situation, we need employment, direction, and the future seems empty and bleak.
When a parent or grandparent lies in a hospital bed, we know the end is near, but we do not feel ready to say goodbye.
When our congregation experiences a betrayal, sides are taken, friends attack verbally, and the unity is broken.
When we watch the news and we are overwhelmed by the violence, the sadness, the inequities, and the troubles that we see.
The world is uncertain. Our way ahead so often appears dark, we falter. The psalmist describes this as “the depths,” the place of deep waters, or the chaos that existed before the beginning of time. We find ourselves unable to cope with our situation or the world’s desperation.
And like the psalmist we cry – “Lord, hear our voice.” In other words, “Lord, don’t forget us and leave us in uncertainty, pain, and despair.” And so, we sit before the Lord. Some days we lie in silence. Some we pace in anger. Other times, we pour words into our journals, page after page of our longing and requests.
Not only do we feel the anguish, we often feel at a complete loss concerning the next step to take.
The psalmist declares: “If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?” The psalmist is not declaring personal faults and wrongdoing. Rather, the psalmist is recognizing that things in the world are not what they should be. Sickness, broken relationships, and death were not the intent of the Creator.
We ask: Is the world beyond repair? Do we give up? Is there no solution?
We cry out. The Lord listens.
“But there is…” The psalmist stops us in our tracks. We are invited to see the world from a different perspective. Rather than focusing on our troubles and our uncertainty, the psalmist invites us to think again about who God is and what God is like.
God takes the initiative. “But there is forgiveness with you.” Mercy and forgiveness are extended to the world, even though the world did not ask and may not have even recognized its need. Into my own wounds and questioning, mercy and grace come tumbling forth.
And it is this mercy that enables us to respond to the presence of God. God forgives! God is good! The psalmist declares that forgiveness comes and the natural response is reverence. We worship.
I worship. I still feel the exhaustion of taking care of my sick child, or the loss of my loved one, but I discover that worship is more than a fuzzy warm feeling. Worship is acknowledging that God is still at work in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty of the world that has lost its way. God’s kingdom is still coming.
I am an imaginative idealist. I imagine a world without weapons and without fear, without sickness, and full of goodness. Children play in the common area on our street. We gather around our tables and share good food. We chat on our sidewalks without wearing masks. We hug without hesitation. We laugh.
However, right now, we wait. We watch. The psalmist repeats: “My soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning.” Our worship gives way to hope that God will deliver us. Walter Brueggemann writes: “Morning was the time for deliverance from trouble…. Waiting here is not impatiently watching the time pass. It is rather anticipating that divine forgiveness and a new beginning will come.”[1] We will not be stuck in this liminal time, but God will bring forth God’s kingdom.
Worship re-frames our understanding. God is at work. Watch for God and you will discover that God comes. You will discover that God has always been there.
In light of this new perspective, the psalmist invites all of Israel to experience hope. “O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love.” The psalmist reminds the people that hope is not a vague feeling of optimism. Hope is founded in the Lord. This is their covenant Lord who continues to show forth his hesed, his enduring love and faithfulness.
Hope will arise! Action will follow! The Lord has “great power to redeem.” God does have power to bring forth change. God does care. God will walk us through this night and we will delight in the goodness of the kingdom.
The biblical and historical records remind us of the world’s darkness. Time after time people experience war, political unrest, social and economic injustice, and pandemics. God does not show up after the darkness is past, but God carries God’s people through the hardship. God is present in the midst of our weakness and longing.
Advent encompasses both this longing and anticipation. In between the Testaments, God’s people felt abandoned. But, the Lord was at work. Jesus came. In the middle of the night, in the city of Bethlehem, a baby was born. Christ the king! The morning dawn began to break. The kingdom is come!
But the kingdom is also still coming. In the midst of our own disrupted lives, we too cry out: “Lord, hear my voice!” We long for a vaccine, for peace, for clean air. We long for greater light, for the greater fullness of the kingdom.
Our world awaits a brighter morning –a divine intervention. Because of Jesus, God’s Spirit continues to speak to the churches and to us today: “Hope in the Lord!” God’s love and power have not changed. The Lord does hear our voice in the midst of the crisis. And that longing, that sense of anticipation, is a sign that God is calling us to participate, through God’s Spirit, in that redemptive work in the world.
During this time of advent, of change, of disruption -- what can we do to participate in the kingdom that is both now and not yet? We start by crying out: “LORD, hear my voice!” We can rest assured that our voice, indeed, is heard. The king is here. Morning is on its way.
Thank you for reading the New Leaf Advent Reader, a collection of reflections from writers across Canada. If you are enjoying the reader, sign up to receive the readings in your inbox each day here: SIGN UP
And please share this reflection with your friends and family who might also enjoy it.
One of the ways we have been connecting online since the pandemic pushed us online is through our Learning Centre, a weekly interactive Zoom call on a topic with a Canadian voice of wisdom. For the season of Advent, we will be featuring a few of our writers and making space to reflect together on the Advent Reader articles. Join us for the interactive sessions on Thursdays at 1:30 pm (Eastern time) or sign up and view the recordings of the sessions afterwards. SIGN UP for the Learning Centre Advent sessions.
