As we come into the last week of Advent 2021 I wanted to say something.
I heard someone say last night that 2021 has been worse than 2020. I don’t know if that’s true for you or not. I know that for many these pandemic years have taken a significant toll on mental and emotional health, cracks in the seams of family relationships have become chasms, the lonely have felt more lonely and cut off than ever, financial struggles from lack of work have burdened to the point of breaking, and church attendance has atrophied. If you feel those frustrations, you’re not alone. I know some lucky few have actually found the pandemic a time of odd rest from business and hurried lives that has afforded them more time with family, less pressure from work, and even a time for reflection and setting new directions.
Whichever your experience has been, you know the longing of anticipation. Anticipation that the pain and heartache will end, anticipation in beginning the new journey, anticipation at being set free from pandemic restrictions, anticipation of the new season right around the corner. Our whole world has groaned under this pandemic in one way or another, as life as we knew it got put on pause and societal ills got put on magnify.
I feel anticipation of things we’re planning in the next few years. In fact, I want to say specifically to my friends involved with church planting: I hope you feel anticipation for the first time we get to have worship in Yukon. I hope you feel anticipation for seeing people in Bethany and Mustang and Yukon come to Christ. I hope you feel anticipation for making Christ known in our little corner of the woods. Our work for Christ won’t change the world (that’s God’s job), but the Holy Spirit will use our worship and work, our fellowship and fun, our service and sacrifice to change a few people’s worlds in our little corner of Oklahoma that God has given us as a gift. We get to participate in seeing the New Creation break in where God has called us to be.
But we don’t see that in fulness until the actual return of Jesus. That’s Advent. Seeing the light, knowing the hope, smelling the goodies, but not getting to taste it until Christmas. Until Christ comes. Until the Last Day.
I know some of my friends that don’t believe in the Jesus stuff I believe in will read that last part and cringe a little. The Last Day. Like Judgement Day? Yeah, like Judgement Day. I know you’ve heard condemning, mean-spirited people talk about Judgement Day and how sinners (maybe they were pointing at you, talking about you, which is why it felt especially offensive) are going to hell. No one likes to be talked to that way, and most people will rightly walk away from someone that yells at them that God hates them. When I talk about Judgement Day, I’m anticipating a day when all wrongs will be put right. A day when all the pain will stop. A day when every tear will be wiped from every eye, and death will be no more. Neither will there be mourning nor crying anymore for all the mental and emotional health problems, relational chasms, loneliness, struggles, sickness, arguments, disagreements, racism, -phobias, pandemics, pressures, and pains will have passed away, and you can finally experience that blessed time of never-ending celebration, opportunity, prosperity, and happiness. (See Revelation 21, especially verses 1 through 8. And even when you get to that uncomfortable stuff about people bring thrown into the fire: Do you not want murderers, the sexually immoral—like child molesters and rapists—or liars like conmen and swindlers brought to justice? That’s the Judgement Day I’m talking about. The day of never ending feast where wine and joy will flow and all the brokenness will be gone.
But that day only comes with Jesus. We look forward to his return, just as the Israelites looked for the coming of their Messiah. Admittedly, their Messiah didn’t do things the way they expected or when they expected. Their Messiah came to a poor family in out-of-the-way Nazareth, lived in obscurity, and then died on a cross to pay for the sins of His People. But Revelation is clear that the next time he comes it will be quite a bit more, shall we say, flashy. And we know he has the power to do this because Jesus didn’t stay dead. He rose again from the dead after dying on the cross, proving Jesus is the indeed the savior of the world everyone has been and is waiting for—whether they realize it or not, Jesus is the resolution to all our groaning.
But in the meantime. We wait. We anticipate. We hope. And I guess I just wanted to write to encourage you: keep waiting, keep anticipating, keep hoping; your hope will not be put to shame. Let your hope in Jesus fuel love for God, love for those around you, and love for the place God has called you right now, in whatever circumstances right now. Keep taking your struggles, pains, and tears to God in prayer. I know it’s taking forever. But healing is coming. I know it’s been hurting for a long time, but relief is coming. I know you want things fixed now, but justice and righteousness are coming. This hope is for you. It may be dark now, but light is coming. Jesus is coming. And that makes me want to celebrate.
I hope you have Merry Christmas.
Wes
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