Advent serves as a reminder to remain awake, vigilant
For many Christians, this past Sunday marked the beginning of Advent: a season of anticipation as we prepare for the birth of Jesus. Churches who read the selected Scriptures from the lectionary read words attributed to Jesus about the unexpected time of his coming. Within the passage are the lines: “Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” How often are we sleepwalking through our lives? How often are we swept along by culture or apathy?
The moment of our republic’s founding was both a time of unparalleled advancement for democracy and a near-genocidal slaughter of indigenous peoples. It was also a time of unprecedented levels of slavery.
In 2012, the Smithsonian opened an exhibition titled “Slavery at Jefferson’s Monticello: Paradox of Liberty.” At the front of the exhibition hall stands a life-size statue of Jefferson, backed by a panel that lists the names of about 600 known slaves who worked for Jefferson during his life.
At the time of the opening, many accused the Smithsonian of dredging up what they felt would be best left alone. One critic said he wanted to stop any
“made-up criticism about … the founders intruding on the Indians or having slaves or being hypocrites in one way or another.”
But our shameful history is not made up. Jefferson, George Washington, John Hancock, Patrick Henry, James Madison and most of the Founding Fathers owned slaves. Even Ben Franklin, who later spoke out against slavery, possessed slaves for a time.
These men were not oblivious to their sin. With reference to slavery, Jefferson wrote: “I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that His justice cannot sleep forever.” Patrick Henry, best known for saying, “Give me liberty or give me death,” also spoke on slavery, asking: “Is it not amazing that at a time, when the rights of humanity are defined and understood with precision, in a country above all others fond of liberty, that in such an age and such a country we find men professing a religion the most humane, mild, meek, gentle and generous, adopting a principle as repugnant to humanity as it is inconsistent with the Bible and destructive to liberty?” He continued: “Would anyone believe that I am a master of slaves of my own purchase! I am drawn along by the general inconvenience of living without them, I will not, I cannot justify it.”
“I am drawn along.” The status quo is hard to resist. Culture is a powerful current. We think we are unique and then we look at trends over time and see how much we mirror each other in dress and dance moves; in hobbies and education trends; in how we treat each other in the office and how we hang out with our friends. We are drawn along in so many ways. While the style of our sneakers and the latest app are relatively harmless, what other ways are we being swept along that we don’t even see? What ways have we adapted to violence and injustice? How are we sleepwalking through poverty, lies, oppression?
“Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming.” Set in Colonial America, Washington Irving’s tale “Rip Van Winkle” is the story of a man who wanders into the mountains with his dog and runs into a group of strange Dutchmen. Rip enjoys a stiff drink with the men and then falls asleep for 20 years. He wakes to a missing dog, his beard grown incredibly long, his house in complete disrepair, his wife and children gone, and no one living in town that he recognizes. While Rip was asleep, everyone he cared about was lost and his life had passed him by. Martin Luther King Jr. loved the story of Rip Van Winkle and used it often. King liked to say, “The thing we usually remember about the story is that Rip slept for 20 years, but there is another point in that story, which is almost always completely overlooked. When Rip went up the mountain, a sign in the local tavern had a picture of King George III and when he came down it had a picture of George Washington.”
“So,” King proclaimed, “the most striking thing about the story of Rip Van Winkle is not that he slept 20 years, but that he slept through a revolution.”
In his “Don’t Sleep Through the Revolution” speech, King warned,
“One of the great misfortunes of history is that all too many individuals and institutions find themselves in a great period of change and yet fail to achieve the new attitudes and outlooks that the new situation demands. There is nothing more tragic than to sleep through a revolution.”
The status quo, the powerful, our fear, our apathy, our dislike of change — these are all committed to keeping the world the way it is, to preventing the revolution from happening, to keeping us sleepwalking through our lives. But
Jesus tells the disciples then and now: “Stay awake, keep watch, pay attention, be vigilant.”
Advent breaks into our routine and compels us to live with our eyes wide open, to be aware and know what is going on in our community and in our world. To stay conscious of the way systemic racism and oppression, institutionalized poverty and violence operate while hiding in plain sight and to keep working for justice and love for all people.
The longer passage read in many churches this Sunday is Matthew 24:3644: “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: If the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”
This passage has been used to suggest the opposite of vigilance. It has been used to promote escapism, to suggest that the righteous will be whisked away before things here on Earth get too bad. Often those who believe they will be saved while others are left behind to endure tribulations as the world goes to hell are the very people who ignore climate change, gross injustice, gun violence, institutionalized poverty and racism, and the brutality at our borders.
But read the passage again. Are the ones who are taken the ones who are saved? In the reference to Noah and the flood, it’s the people who are swept away and taken who perish. The ones who stay, the ones on the boat, are saved. “They knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man.” You don’t want to be swept away by the flood. You want to be left behind on the boat. The owner of the house wants to be awake when the thief comes. He wants to be ready, not off somewhere asleep.
In the next chapter of Matthew we read the story of the bridesmaids. Perhaps you will remember that some of them did not bring enough oil for their lamps. They leave and while they are gone, the bridegroom comes. They were gone, and they missed him. The bridesmaids who stayed put were there to greet the bridegroom with lamps burning brightly. You want to be present, not spirited away.
Maybe it is not about escape at all. The ones who are left are left to do the work — the work of salvation. This promised future is here and now. If we are awaiting a reign of peace, let’s create it. If a storm is coming, let’s build an ark. If a thief is coming, we cannot sleep on our watch. If guests are coming, let’s trim the candles. If we are looking toward an unrealized horizon for a realm of justice, the horizon is here — justice is ours to make. We will not escape. We must wake up to the terror around us and to our part in the changes that must be made. We are certainly in a time of revolution. We must not sleep through it, we must not be swept along.
Advent speaks these words to us just as it spoke them to those so long ago who grew weary, who were tempted by complacency. It speaks these words: “Watch. Keep awake! Do the work of hope, peace, joy and love.”
Perhaps we are not poised on the cusp of some new time, some new dispensation, some eschatological movement. Perhaps we are poised instead to see the in-breaking realm of God’s justice and peace each day, each moment. As co-workers with God, there is much to do.
Instead of fear and escapism, we can gather our swords and transform them into plowshares. We can collect our spears and turn them into pruning hooks — we have spent enough time learning war. If we are awake, we will see as Emmanuel, Godwith-us, comes again and again breaking into each time and each place, teaching peace and calling us to action.
This is the hope of Advent. We are here. We’ve been left behind and we have work to do. This is the hope of Advent, we are not alone. God is with us. Emmanuel is with us. So may we keep awake! May we do the work! May we live into hope!
Amen.