The First Sunday of Advent - November 30, 2025

Summary

Mother Suzanne welcomes the congregation into the Advent season, explaining how this four-week period serves as a time of hopeful waiting and preparation for Christ's coming, rather than rushing straight into Christmas. She addresses the seemingly apocalyptic gospel reading, clarifying that such texts are meant to offer hope that "all things will be made new," and challenges the congregation to stay awake and live with expectancy, recognizing that God is always making His way to us.

THE GOSPEL                                                                                                                                              Matthew 24:36-44

 Jesus said to the disciples, “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.”

Artwork:  “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father."

Transcript

Mother Suzanne:

You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from your sleep. In the name of the triune God, Father Son and Holy Spirit, amen. Please be seated. Oh, good morning. And the first question I always ask on Advent one is, was anyone's breath taken away when you walked into the nave this morning? Please say yes. Oh, our altar guild has worked so hard in getting everything ready for this time of preparation. So our advent color here at Grace is blue. And I just have to say we have been saturated in green for nearly 30 weeks. That is the season of our church calendar year known as Ordinary Time or the Season of Pentecost, which is the longest season of our church here. This is especially important to remember as we shift into different seasons in the life of the church.

For in Pentecost or this long season of green, it's green for a reason because it's the time of growth. It's the time where we study about the life of Jesus and we learn about how he lived. And so we try to model our lives after him during this time. But now we have arrived at Advent. And Advent, for those who are new to this church and to the church calendar, it is a time of preparation for the coming of Jesus.

In many ways, Advent can be likened to a mini M-I-N-I lint, lasting just four weeks in preparation for our savior's birth. And I will say, if you do not know this about the Episcopal church, know this now. We are a church which values hopeful waiting and preparing. We don't just dive into Christmas. In my former years as a Baptist, poof, Christmas was without any preparation at all. During Advent, we are being prepped just little by little, week after week, knowing and hopeful waiting that our saviors appearing will be soon. And God will make all things new.

Like I just said, what we don't do is come to church and poof we have a baby Jesus in a manger. Instead, we hear stories from scripture which tell of a savior who is born, who is to be born. We sing songs which tell of our longing, our longing for our Emmanuel. And one of the great gifts I think is we are opening space up for us to intentionally slow down. We know that things get crazy, don't they? Maybe you already feel like that time is coming. Black Friday. Dilla meals. All the lists that have to be done. The presents that need to be bought. This church says no. We relish in the notion that sometimes the best things in life require waiting and preparation.

I've shared this before and one of our parishioners last year was really taken by it and so I decided to share it again. Advent really is an invasion of holiness. NJ Gallup, that's for you. Yep, you liked it last year and I remembered. It is an invasion of holiness, an invasion of all that is hoped for and imagined, an invasion of a promise by a heavenly father which guarantees a more abundant life. And most ironically, an invasion that begins with a baby's cry, followed by the braise and nays of barn animals. The maker of the stars and seas became a child on earth for me.

Advent is this time of hopeful waiting. It is of anticipation and it is excitement of what is to come. As priest of grace, I have shared this particular story a number of times, but it seems appropriate to share it again as we begin season of what it means to wait. As ordained clergy in the Episcopal church, one of the rights of passage is when an ordained clergy person, usually a permanent deacon or a transitional deacon is ordained. On that day and not one day sooner can the ordained person done his collar or her collar for the first time, these white things we wear around our necks. A question I get asked often is simply, "Mother Suzanne, is that collar tight?" I don't get asked it much because I don't wear mine very often, but every Sunday I do wear mine and sometimes our kids will say, "Is that color tight?" To which I enthusiastically say, "Yes, it is very tight and for good reason." Because each time I fasten it around my neck, I am reminded that I belong to someone else, that I am in service to somebody else, and putting on a tight collar reminds me of this.

And longing for the day when I could wear it meant lots of hopeful waiting, which actually prepared me for when I put the collar on for the first time. Our postulant ginger, your time is coming, but not until it's time. But there is much hopeful weight. Yes, there is. Absolutely. Another rite of passage for an ordained clergy person is choosing her stools. Do you guys know what a stole is? It's what we wear. Yeah, Stephanie does. It's what we wear around our neck, signifying that we are a priest. I've got my advent stole on right now. And this particular stole is my favorite of all the stools that I have.

The stole highlights the mother of Jesus, Mary, with her full pregnant belly. And I'm not sure very many priests in our diocese have a stole with a full pregnant belly, but I do. I chose it because this nine month period is like a nine month long advent, waiting with full anticipation for the birth of her baby. This stole also highlights a beautiful white dove, which oversees it all. A symbol for the spirit of God, a reminder that all things will be made new. Stoles, just like our beautiful stained glass windows tell a story. They give a peek into the mind and heart of a priest and for the astute observer really gives an idea of what this season is like.

Each of us have our own stories of what it means to wait in the hopes that something will come that you have hoped for, dreamed about, and longed for. So today's gospel might not seem very hope-filled. Maybe you thought we might catch a glimpse of something which could lead to the Christmas story, this first Sunday of Advent. And instead, it seems that there's only apocalyptic doom and gloom. We have this again. So you might be asking why on the first Sunday of Advent does the gospel reading seem well enough that it might be found in a left behind book series?

Well, there is purpose in this as well. In each of the three years of the lectionary cycle, the first week of Advent is always about apocalyptic texts. This kind of literature was common in Jewish and Christian writings in the centuries around the life of Jesus. And oftentimes, as challenging as it was to understand these texts, the main purpose was to offer hope, hope that better days would be on its way. They are not meant to frighten us. Instead, they are offered as words of hope to renew confidence that all things will be made new. The return of Christ is something that as Christians, we should all be expectantly waiting for, not dreading, and certainly nothing to be afraid of.

So as the gospel text reminds us this morning, we should all be living in such a way that if Christ were to come, there would be welcome, there would be rejoicing. And God only knows when this hour will come, not even Jesus or the angels. Know when Jesus will come again. So living in hope and expecting Christ's return, it is a central tenant to our Christian faith. What does this mean? Don't sleep through your life. Pay attention and be pleasantly caught off guard when holy moments happen. And believe you, me, you know, when you are in the midst of a holy moment.

Don't miss God at work in the world because we just didn't wake up from sleep. Be mindful and watchful. An important life event might be happening as we speak. And so what this gospel text is telling us is be ready and don't miss it. If there is one thing I know to be true about the spiritual path, it is this. God is always making his way to us. And what's more, he is beckoning us back to him. So as his disciples, we need not to be worried or consumed about when the world is going to end, what that will look like. In fact, I'm pretty sure that might be the worst way to live because when you live that way, everything in between is missed. And if you're constantly thinking about the future, we have this tendency to miss how God is working now. So Jesus' words in today's gospel challenge us to live in the present.

We are to have a lifestyle of expectancy. We are to live as if God is with us, precisely because God is. So stay awake. Salvation is here. Christ is coming again. And my friends, all things will be made new. Amen. Amen.