“Are we there yet?” That ubiquitous phrase uttered by children and adults when on a car ride to anywhere. Going to visit the beloved grandparents? Going to the grocery store? The number of times this is queried is contingent on many variables, like the length of trip and destination. Bottom line: waiting is difficult for all of us, whether on a road trip or for an upcoming event.
So imagine for a minute waiting for generations.
You know it is going to happen. You just don’t know when. You just don’t know where. It can be frustrating and exciting all at the same time. You might not be in the right place or even alive when the moment arrives. And yet, the people of God, sometimes patiently and sometimes not, waited for thousands of years for the coming of the Messiah.
Advent, that penitential season of preparation, is when we remember those who waited before us as well as waiting ourselves for the arrival of God’s chosen one. Personally, my favorite parts of Advent are the change to purple and Advent wreaths. Purple is my favorite color and sometimes I wonder if that is because of Advent or the reverse. The switch from the liturgical green of ordinary time to purple reminds me the season has changed. We are doing something different. Waiting mode had been entered.
I am a person who can lose track of time easily so I surround myself with calendars and clocks. On Sunday morning, a timer is my best friend. I love Advent wreaths because it helps in the waiting by marking time.
The generations that waited before us didn’t necessarily have a clock or a calendar. I wonder how they did it without giving up? I wonder how difficult was it for the prophets to wait? Constantly reminding the people of God to be ready because the Messiah is coming. Be on your best behavior, the Messiah is coming. Be joyful and content, the Messiah is coming. The Messiah is going to be amazing, wonderful, the Prince of Peace.
And…nothing.
No marking of time. Just waiting. How hard it must have been to be a prophet back in the day!
I wonder about Mary and Joseph. Scripture tells us that Mary humbly accepted God’s will to be the Messiah’s mother. How hard was it to embrace God’s call, knowing the culture she lived in was not going to accept her pregnancy? Scripture tells us Joseph also agreed to have Mary’s back. What was waiting like for these two prospective parents? How many tears of frustration were shed during that nine months of waiting? I connect to Mary and Joseph’s waiting in a very personal way because the arrival of my two now young adult children was preceded by three miscarriages. I know how hard it was to wait. I also know the joy when the waiting finally ended. I wonder if Mary and Joseph also experienced that joy? I hope so.
Here’s the thing. We believe that Jesus was born, he died, he rose from the dead, and Jesus will come again. We reiterate this belief every Sunday in the Eucharistic prayer. Good news/bad news moment: we are not finished waiting for the Messiah. Jesus will come again.
Then where is he? When the news of the day, the actions of other people, when friends and family are in disagreement and the world is just downright disappointing; where are you, Jesus? Are you here yet? Why must the waiting continue?
It is then I enter the eternal car ride, the waiting room of reflection. I look for Jesus. And there he is. In the child who asks the simple question, “Can I polish our altar cross?” or the big question, “Where is God?” Jesus is there. The adults who are preparing themselves for the baptism of their babies; asking thoughtful questions like, “How do I choose godparents?” Jesus is there. Seeing the expressions of children and adults during the baptism meditation when I hand them a vigil candle and say, “On the day of your baptism you received the light of the Risen Christ.” The loving banter of my colleagues and the laughter in staff meetings. Jesus is there. In the young adults who lead our youth group and the youth they walk side by side with. Jesus is there. And I love all of it. It feeds my soul.
Yet, sometimes, when I don’t think I can wait for Jesus one more minute, I hear in my head, “E’en so Lord Jesus, quickly come.” This lyric is from a well-known Advent anthem. The first time I sang this anthem was in high school, and I have sung and heard it many times since. It never fails to resonate in my heart and soul.
Paul Manz wrote the stirring music while waiting with a sick child, and his wife, Ruth, adapted the lyrics from Revelation 22. As much as I love walking with Jesus here on earth, it is a difficult walk sometimes. This phrase reminds me there is more and it will happen in God’s time. There is the hope that there will be a day when there is no more pain or suffering, and we will be all in all with the Creator. For this we still wait. Even in our impatience, it is worth waiting for Jesus. And we are here, in the season of Advent.
To wonder and meditate a little bit more about waiting for Jesus, here is a video clip of the Concordia Lutheran High School choir singing “E’en so Lord Jesus.”
E’en so Lord Jesus, quickly come
And night shall be no more
They need no light nor lamp nor sun
For Christ will be their All!
