Dr. David D. Young
December 2, 2007
Isaiah 9: 2-7
Luke 2: 22-35
"This Wistful Waiting"
(Expectation)

(long pause…)

Did you catch it?

Did you feel it?

A sense of anticipation, of waiting, of expecting words to come out of my mouth. Now, my words are not much worth waiting for. But, the Word of God – that is worth waiting for. Or is it – really? Here we are on this first Sunday of Advent – gathered for many reasons.

Some of us are here out of routine – it’s part of our weekly discipline. Some of us are here because someone else expected us to be here. Some of us are here seeking and searching for new meaning in our lives. Some are here because of the Christmas season now upon us. Others of us couldn’t wait to get here this morning. And perhaps others can’t wait to leave.

During this Advent season of waiting and expectation - is ours a wondering waiting or wasteful waiting?

A man walked into a crowded New York restaurant, caught the eye of the waiter and said, "You know, it’s been ten years since I came in here." "Don’t blame me," the waiter snapped. "I’m working as fast as I can!"

We’ve all been through a lot of Advents before. And how many of us have wondered if our waiting for Christ to come into our lives – isn’t just a big waste of time? After all, we might say to ourselves, it’s been a long time since anything dramatic has happened – it’s been ten years.

Perhaps, going to church for some is a waste of time. Why is it that most of us Americans do so poorly when it comes to waiting? We just don’t want to have to wait – we just can’t wait. I mean we can’t wait – can we?

I am always amazed to hear some of the excuses people use for cutting in line – no matter where I am. But really I’m not that much better. There’s little I hate more than having to wait in a long line – be it at an amusement park, the mall, the grocery, a tollbooth or wherever. I always look for the shortest line I can find. Waiting is not my strong suit.

Is it that we’ve been conditioned to expect that everything can be instant? Banks offer instant credit and there’s instant everything. There’s really very little we have to wait for. Every year at this time I hear people all the time say,

"I can’t wait to get all my Christmas shopping done."

or

"I can’t wait for Christmas and the stress of the holiday to be over."

So the most special season of the year – which seems to last from before Halloween to after New Year’s is impatiently and hurriedly scurried through. John Stansell and I were talking about this – this week and there is this Christmas song we hear on the radio. "I want a little Christmas right this very minute – I want a little Christmas now." It’s like we can’t wait we have to have it now and why do we have to have it now? We can’t seem to wait until Christmas Eve and Christmas Day – themselves.

Any waiting or sense of anticipation and wonder is avoided or tolerated as a necessary inconvenience. And yet, I believe everybody’s waiting for something in life.

Will my mother live to see another Christmas?
Are my children going to turn out all right when they grow up?
Will she say yes?
Will he every really love me?
Will I ever achieve financial security?
Will all of my education ever pay off in a satisfying career?
Will the doctor’s report tell me I’m going to be OK?
Will the pain in my back ever go away?
Will I ever know that inner peace and light with which others seemed to have been touched?

Waiting…we are all waiting for something.

The psychologist, William Moulton Marston, asked 3,000 people: "What have you to live for?" He was shocked to find that 94 percent were simply enduring the present while they waited for the future, while they waited for "something" to happen.

Yet, as I’ve tried to suggest that while most of us are waiting for something, we often shoot ourselves in the foot because we are so impatient with most of the things we bump up against in life unless they are instant. But dear Winnie the Pooh reminds us of the need for waiting and expectancy. In the house of Pooh Corner, Christopher Robin has just asked Pooh a question.

"What do you like doing best in the world, Pooh?" "Well," said Pooh, "what I like best…" and then he had to stop and think. Because although eating honey was a very good think to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.

During this season of expectation and wistful waiting, let’s return to the story of Simeon. Being faithful to the laws of Moses, Joseph and Mary brought Jesus to the temple for their act of purification. They were not doing anything out of the ordinary. They were simply going through the routines that any new Jewish parents would go through. And Simeon who had been blessed by God’s spirit, though he was old – knew he was not to taste death until he had seen the Christ child.

When Simeon was ninety-five,
they wondered why he stayed alive.
When Simeon was ninety-six
they said: "The old man’s heart still ticks."
When Simeon was ninety-seven
they told him he should go to heaven.
When Simeon was ninety-eight
they said he was just obstinate.
When Simeon was ninety-nine
wait, something happened – hold the line!

There they were in the temple courtyard on an ordinary day and Simeon heard an inner voice say, go to the temple and he looked out across the crowd of people and their eyes met. He knew in a moment that his time of seeing had come.

Luke tells us in Verse 29 and following that he took Jesus in his arms and blessed God and said,

"Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel."

And the child’s father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, "This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed – and a sword will pierce your own soul too."

This wistful waiter in time meets us on this day on the front edge of our Advent journey, with all our unresolved conflicts, with all our hidden doubts, and with all our inner longing for a rebirth.

Here in this story we find both routine and recognition – ritual and righteousness. Mary and Joseph are carrying out religious obligations. Their son was to be dedicated to God. Not unlike the two new lives that will be brought to the Baptismal water of blessing and renewal next Sunday. But Simeon comes not out of routine but by an inner movement of God’s prompting.

Haven’t you ever had a feeling that you were just supposed to do something – even though you weren’t sure why? Something told Simeon to go to the temple. And routine and God’s prompting spirit met in that event.

How often have you wished you could throw off the regularity of routine – so that you could find something new and exciting in your life? The surprise of our text tells us that renewal can come precisely in the midst of our routines.

When we meet the day in and day out obligations of our lives – and when we are disciplined in the faith of our lives – there is a chance that we will be met by the one who recognizes us and new insight may be born in us. Our inner being can be touched by God’s prompting when we face with integrity the routine realities of our lives.

In our story and potentially in our Advent, a moment of insight occurs somewhere between routine and God’s spirit, God’s movement in our lives. Simeon sees it! No one else in the crowd notices the special identity of Jesus as the Christ. Only Simeon has the insight to know who Jesus really was.

On December 17, 1903, Orville and Wilbur Wright kept their hand-build airplane in the air for fifty-nine seconds. That was the first flight ever. They sent a telegram to their sister in Dayton, Ohio: "First sustained flight today fifty-nine seconds. Hope to be home by Christmas."

Their sister was so excited that she took the telegram with its big news to the newspaper editor in Dayton, and the next morning, to her surprise, the newspaper headline stated in big bold letters, "Popular Local Bicycle Merchants To Be Home For Holidays." One of the biggest technological stories of this century and that unknown Dayton editor missed it.

The scene for Simeon was not unlike our Advent scene. The place was crowded and chaotic. And unlike me, who gets impatient while waiting in a crowd, Simeon dared to look for the presence of Christ in his midst. And in a moment of insight, he saw, and his life was illumined, as it had never been illuminated before.

For as Isaiah prophesized,

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light." "For unto us a child is born, to us a son is given."

We can’t control or plan our moments of insight. We, like that wistful waiting one of old, must simply open our eyes and dare to see.

At this Advent season we need new eyes to see the true meaning of life – and to see somewhere between routine and God’s prompting. And like Simeon we must answer the most telling Advent question of all,

"Who is this baby, really?"

No matter how long we’ve been a part of the church and no matter how many Advent’s we’ve been through before – we must each decide who this Jesus is in our life. Simeon tells us that this baby will be a sign for the fall and rising of many – a sign that is spoken against.

You see, Jesus is either a boulder in the path of our own self interest that we bang up against over and over again or he is the rock upon which we stand. For we are no longer on our way but his way.

There was a cartoon in the New Yorker, some years ago, which showed a doctor’s office in which a young woman is tellingly saying to her doctor, "What can I do to feel better without giving up what’s making me feel awful?" We put ourselves in that situation of indecision. "What can I do to make me feel better without giving up what’s making me feel awful?" Well, the answer is "nothing."

Jesus is either a sign of falling or rising in your life, that is, a stumbling block or God’s resurrection presence. "He is," said Simeon, "what I’ve been wistfully waiting for all my life." The answer to our wistful waiting – is to give ourselves to him.

In this Advent season of gifts – where there are shepherds and Wise Men to come – we are met by Simeon – somewhere between routine and God’s spirit – when a moment of insight is offered and we are able to see who Jesus really is.

Lucy says to Charlie Brown, "Think about this day for a moment, Charlie Brown. This could very well be the most important day of your life! When a day begins, you never really know what is going to happen.

Charlie Brown, "You’re right, Lucy, and this very ordinary day could turn out to be the most important day of my life!"

Lucy, "But it probably won’t!"

Friends, this ordinary, routine Sunday holds the promise of an extraordinary beginning as we start our Advent journey with renewed eyes of faith. In closing the lyric words of poetess, Jean Burden,

"Because the cross became a tree; because the rock became a door; we celebrate return to birth; we kneel upon the humble floor. For this our shepherds sing their hymns; for this our Wise Men travel far; because the cross became a tree; because the stone became a star."

Thanks be this day for the gift of God’s Son in the midst of all our wistful waiting!

Amen.