If 2020 had a Christmas ornament that summed up the year, it would be of a child with their nose pressed up against a window, gazing out expectantly. That is how I’ve felt. First, it was waiting for fertility treatments, then waiting for the pandemic to pass, and finally starting our adoption and waiting on approvals and matching. Waiting is difficult, and patience seems on short supply some days when nothing seems to be happening.
Waiting is very much in line with the season of Christmas advent. Advent is a season of waiting and longing. The first advent was for the appearing of the Messiah. The Old Testament was given through the prophets, God’s Word and messages to his people. He made a covenant with them, first with Abraham, and down through the patriarchs, but again and again, his people strayed. The law given to Moses could only condemn, not save. The sacrificial system only temporarily absolved sins, and the bloody sacrifices were repeated year after year to cover the sins of God’s people. God promised a Messiah, a final sacrifice. But where was he? Prophets, kings, and the very nation failed over and over. Their kingdom split. They were taken into exile. They were brought back to their country, only to have it occupied by the world superpowers. Where was this Messiah? Where was God? He fell silent for four hundred years between the writings of the prophet Malachi and the birth of Christ. Had he forsaken them? Had he forgotten them?
In a moment of splendor, a bright star shone and angels sang in the sky to signal the fulfillment of the prophesies. Love came down in Jesus Christ. The Son of God became son of Man, infinite divinity merged with finite flesh. He was born in humble Bethlehem, not in a palace, but a humble stable. His mother, a virgin, and his father, a carpenter, had both seen angels, but now they saw the face of God in their babe. Shepherds saw the angels and came to worship. They rejoiced and told everyone what they had seen and heard. Wisemen travelled from the East, bringing gifts far beyond what his poor parents had ever seen. The heavens declared the glory of God and led the wisemen straight to God himself. But the fanfare, a brilliant flash in the dark of night, didn’t last long before Jesus was just a Jewish child, fleeing death as a refugee to Egypt, then returning with his parents to Nazareth in Rome-occupied Palestine. Thirty years passed, as far as the Bible tells us, ordinary and quiet. More waiting.
Jesus’ stepped out of anonymity at the right time, and began his ministry. He turned water into wine, healed the sick, lame, and demon possessed. He taught about the Kingdom of God and called them to repentance. He was sinless, baptized, ridiculed, followed, and revered. He called twelve disciples to follow him and they called him Rabbi (teacher), then the Christ. Religious leaders plotted to kill him, but in the end Jesus laid his own life down as the sacrificial Lamb, the final and perfect sacrifice. This time there were no angels singing in the skies. There was no brilliant star. Darkness came, and the earth shook as its Creator, the Word of God, died, forsaken by the Father God to punish the sins of the world. For three days, creation held its breath. The disciples hid, grieved and confused. More waiting.
In another flash of splendor, Jesus walked out of the tomb three days later, alive! He was raised to life, having conquered death in the grave. After seeing his disciples and some five hundred others, he left instructions to go to every nation and tell the good news of his salvation. He ascended into heaven to sit the right hand of Father God.
He is waiting even now to come again to usher in the new heavens and earth. That’s why we are still waiting, even though two thousand years ago he came, lived, died, and rose again. He’s not finished. Not even close. We live in this tension of the here but not yet. His Kingdom is here on earth in his people, the Church, but we are still waiting for the King to return and fully bring in the new heavens and earth. There is still sin, brokenness, and darkness here. But it won’t be like this forever.
This is our hope. We are sojourners, exiles, and strangers in this world. This is not our home. This is why the Gospel is good news to the waiting, poor, sick, barren, imperfect, addicted, estranged, heart-broken, and needy. What we see here in this broken, sin-riddled world is not the end. We wait with eagerness, not hoping in what we can get here, or how comfortable we can make ourselves on earth. We are not of this world. The King is coming.
God calls us to be active waiters. We don’t hunker down and wait to die or for Jesus’ return. He tells us to love the Lord our God with all our hearts, souls, and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. We wait, but we fight our sin and for light in the world. We wait, but we hope. We wait, knowing that one day our faith will be made sight, and we will worship around his throne for eternity, all darkness, sin, and death banished forever under the King’s rule and reign.
What are you waiting on? Are you weary, irritated, and frustrated? Do not lose heart. He hasn’t forgotten you. The King is coming.
Kristi P. Powell 