Rev. Tessie Mandeville
December 2, 2007
Christ Covenant MCC
Decatur, GA 30030

You never know when God will appear right before your very eyes.

There once was a little boy who wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a six-pack of root beer, and he started his journey. When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old woman. She was sitting in the park, staring at some pigeons. The boy sat down next to her and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer when he noticed that the old lady looked hungry, so he offered her a Twinkie. She gratefully accepted it and smiled at him. Her smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered her a root beer. Once again, she smiled at him. The boy was delighted. They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, yet they never said a word.

As it grew dark, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave. Before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the old woman and gave her a hug. She gave him her biggest smile ever. When the boy opened the door to his own home a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy? He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? She's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the old woman, also radiant with joy, returned to her home. Her neighbor was stunned by the look of peace on her face, and she asked, "What did you do today that made you so happy?" She replied, "I ate Twinkies in the park with God." But before her neighbor responded, she added, "You know, he's much younger than I expected."1

You never know when God will appear right before your very eyes. This is what the season of Advent is all about. It’s about waiting, looking, listening, paying attention. It is about the coming of God. And though we cannot predict the day or hour that God will come we can get ready; we can prepare room in our hearts and our lives for the coming of Christ.

It would be nice this year to spend the season of Advent waiting for the baby in the manger but this first Sunday of Advent, we have been called to confront death and hope. Today’s gospel passage from Matthew is part of a larger discourse on the destruction of Jerusalem. As the disciples admire the temple in Jerusalem, Matthew’s Jesus foretells a time of doom and chaos. He foretells a time that the temple and Jerusalem will be destroyed, and indeed, it is later destroyed by the Roman Empire. Jesus foretells this story of Jerusalem’s destruction days before his own death.

But we have to remember that all the stories in the Bible were written long after Jesus’ death and this story in particular was written during a very difficult time of history filled with destruction and chaos. But during this time the disciples were awaiting the second coming of Christ. They were waiting for his return and they were trying to keep hope alive. This is why we light the candle of hope on the first Sunday of Advent. It is an act of sacred defiance to light a candle of hope in the midst of death, destruction and chaos. It is an act of sacred defiance to light a candle of hope in December when we know that the nights are going to get a lot darker before they get brighter. It is an act of sacred defiance to light a candle of hope to say that even when our world may appear godforsaken we know Christ will come again.

This is the gospel of hope and I think it’s unfortunate that Matthew’s story about the coming of Christ has been used to scare people. It has fueled the Left Behind books that many of us have read; it has fueled religious movies about the apocalypse and Armageddon. And truth be told, I think Jesus could have been a little more helpful here! He could’ve used a different metaphor about his return rather than the dreadful image of an intruder breaking into our homes in the middle of the night. How can we not be scared of that?! And because of this story and how people have used it, religious people are afraid of what will happen when Christ comes back. Think about that. Instead of being filled with excitement and hope about the coming of God, we are filled with dread and fear. But I honestly don’t think Jesus’ intention is to scare us; the Jesus I know doesn’t use the fear factor to get people to do the right thing; I think he uses the love factor. And though his intention is not to scare us, I do believe his intention is to jar us out of complacency. To get us to wake up and pay attention. To get us to not just go through the motions of our lives but to be centered and aware. To remind us that there is hope because God is coming.

In our darkest nights we can find hope because we know Christ is coming back and that is Good News. And we sitting here have known dark nights of our souls. Our world knows dark nights. Today is World AIDS Day and all over the world people are taking time to talk about the pandemic of AIDS. It’s been 27 years since a name was given to this disease and we don’t have a cure for it yet. We observe World AIDS Day each year in part to say that AIDS isn’t over. To say that there is economic injustice because some people have access to life-saving medication but others do not because they don’t have money or health insurance. We observe World AIDS Day to demand that no one be regarded as indispensable no matter their age, race, ethnicity, gender, sexual orientation, or whether or not they have money.

According to the estimates made by the Joint United Nations program on HIV/AIDS (UNAIDS), there are now 33.2 million people living with HIV, including 2.5 million children.2

Sub-Saharan Africa is more heavily affected by HIV and AIDS than any other region of the world. In just the past year, the AIDS epidemic in Africa has claimed the lives of an estimated 1.6 million people in this region. More than eleven million children have been orphaned by AIDS.3 Our world knows dark nights.

Tens of thousands of people are newly infected with HIV in America every year, and AIDS is now the leading cause of death amongst African American women.4 Our world knows dark nights.

Those of us who have witnessed the deaths of our loved ones from AIDS do not have to give over to despair and fear. It is an act of sacred defiance to light a candle of hope in the midst of death and to say that AIDS will not have the final word because our God is bigger than AIDS. There is a story in the Hebrew Scriptures about Moses who was supposed to keep his arms raised all day to ensure victory for his people. As the story goes, when Moses got tired, and his arms grew weary, two people from his clan came, stood on either side of him, and held his arms up for him. In our darkest nights, this is what we do for each other. We take turns holding each other’s arms up. In a profound sense, we ourselves usher in the second coming of Christ in this world. We try diligently as disciples to be Christ in this world, to do what Christ would do in this world, and in this sense, Jesus returns everyday. Whenever we offer hope and compassion to one another, Jesus returns. Whenever we fight to end stigma and discrimination, Jesus returns. Whenever we see people caring for one another, we get glimpses of the glory of God. Whenever we hold up one another’s arms, Jesus returns and the promise of hope is born again.

The beginning of Advent invites us to hope for a different world. And don’t we hope for a world without AIDS? A world without racism and discrimination? A world where every person matters and every person belongs?

A woman by the name of Michaela Bruzzese who lives in Chilẻ offers this reflection: “It is often said that, during Advent, Christians should seek ways to newly “birth” Christ in the world. But, what is first required is for Christians to simply incarnate themselves, to be utterly present in the world. Only when we are able to remain awake to the real sufferings and joys of the world can we hear God's call and act upon it.5

Advent is a time for centering ourselves so that we can be utterly present in our lives and in the world. I think this is why I love the title to Ann Weems’ book of poetry called Kneeling in Bethlehem. Kneeling is an intentional act. It’s getting into an intentional posture of receptivity and openness. When we are kneeling, we are waiting, looking, listening, and paying attention.

“When God is ready, God will come, even to a godforsaken place like a stable in Bethlehem. Watch for you know not when God comes. Watch, that you might be found whenever, wherever God comes.”6 Because you never know when God will appear right before your very eyes. Blessed be and amen.

1 The Boy Who Wanted To Meet God.
Found at http://www.geocities.com/Yosemite/2021/spirit_stories/seegod.html

2 http://www.avert.org/worldaid.htm

3 http://www.avert.org/aafrica.htm

4 http://www.avert.org/america.htm

5 As quoted by Michaela Bruzzese, a free-lance writer living in Chilẻ, who writes for Sojourners Online at www.sojo.net

6 Ann Weems, “The Coming of God.” Kneeling in Bethlehem p. 13.

Copyright © 2007 by Rev. Tessie Mandeville. Permission granted for non- profit circulation with attribution of author and venue. Other rights reserved.