
A sermon for the First Sunday of Advent — Sunday, December 1st, 2024
For the congregation of St. Saviour Anglican Church in Penticton, BC Canada
The Very Rev. Ken Gray
Sometimes you’ve just gotta sing. A United Church minister friend from many years ago used to say, “they’ll listen when you talk, but they’ll remember when you sing.”
Today’s Psalm marks for me a “where were you when you sang” moment. I was a music student at Western University in London, Ontario. Having just arrived from London England (I go the order wrong—England to Ontario was not an ideal progression) and I was feeling like a rudderless freighter. I was at an Inter Varsity Christian Fellowship student meeting during which I heard for the first time a paraphrase of Psalm 25. The psalm text reads:
“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul; my God, I put my trust in you;
let me not be humiliated, nor let my enemies triumph over me.
Let none who look to you be put to shame;
let the treacherous be disappointed in their schemes.
Show me your ways, O Lord, and teach me your paths.”
We sang together an old Baptist woodchopper:
Unto Thee O Lord,
Do I lift up my soul;
Unto Thee O Lord,
Do I lift up my soul;
Oh my God,
I trust in Thee;
Let me not be ashamed,
Nor let mine enemies triumph over me.
Show me your ways,
And teach me your paths;
Show me your ways,
And teach me your paths;
Oh my God,
I trust in You;
Let me not be ashamed,
Nor let mine enemies triumph over me.
Well . . . I remember sobbing at the time. Most undignified and un-Anglican I must say. Joining the popular fireside chant I felt comforted, and guided, and so much less alone after the events of that particular unsettling September Wednesday.
As we enter Advent 2024 together, this feeling of closeness with God—as God comes close to us and God’s world in so many ways—could well be my, and possibly your Advent theme this year. As today’s “News of the World” (a title of a notorious British tabloid, now thankfully defunct) indicates a planet, peoples, and all of creation fracturing by the second, the present chaos well echoes Luke’s assessment of his times:
“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken.”
In the first of a set of Advent reflections I wrote now many months ago for the Primate’s Fund, for today’s entry I turned to the language of promise found in Jeremiah:
“The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfil the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.” (33:14-16)
Against all circumstance in Jeremiah’s world, throughout the 7th and early 6th centuries BCE, during a tumultuous five decade long ministry, the prophet proclaimed a message of hope and encouragement along with his trenchant analysis of the signs of his own times.
Personally, I find some hope in the promise of God to various and several generations of Christian and Jewish followers of both Law and Grace. That said, some days, I find it hard to find hope in these words: Given events familiar to us all during 2024—in the Middle East, in Jerusalem and Gaza, in Ukraine, in South Sudan, and in Haiti—conflicts continue, lives are still lost, and safety, security, and stability remain elusive for so many. To me, it seems that a massive promise remains if not fulfilled, then at least ignored. Yet a promise is a promise, isn’t it?
We all make promises—partners in relationships, siblings within families, politicians to constituents, leaders and followers reciprocally in faith communities. A promise is a declaration or assurance that one will do something, or make something happen in a timely fashion. A promise expresses a commitment to honour what is spoken; it is a verbal tool that will strengthen relationships; a promise sincerely delivered is a vehicle for hope.
So where I ask is hope for those stranded in conflict zones? I am an amateur photographer. The old rule is “f8 and show up”; choose a focus point, and snap the picture. Through an ecojustice lens, someone needs to show up where the need is evident, to be an agent of change, not through the reckless administration of more violence, but with a commitment to peace.
Truth be told: God shows up, through us, with us, as a source of strength, resilience, and healing, as an embodiment of love.
In faithful obedience to God’s call, PWRDF, with Christians here in the South Okanagan, promise to support those who trust in God’s promise: “The Lord is our righteousness,” and our hope. We will show up. Promise.
A prayer:
The days are coming
and still come
where the righteous cry for justice
over and over and over;
May our voice never waver
as we wait for the One
who comes daily
for all, and in all. Amen.—KJG
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