Now and Not Yet

 Jesu Juva

Isaiah 2:1-5                                                                   

November 27, 2022

Advent 1A                                                        

Dear saints of our Savior~

          Merry Christmas!  Or is it Happy Advent?  It seems a little early for Christmas, doesn’t it?  It’s not yet Christmas, to be sure.  It’s not even December, for heaven’s sake.  Christmas famously runs for twelve days, the first of which being December 25^th.  Between now and then, it’s Advent—that blue and somber season where we mourn our sin like lonely exiles until the Son of God appears.  Now it’s Advent.  It’s not yet Christmas.

          And yet . . . that big tree you erected in your living room yesterday—that’s no Advent tree, is it?  No, it’s a Christmas tree, isn’t it?  And that’s no Advent sweater you’re planning to wear to work tomorrow, is it?  No.  It isn’t.  Is there eggnog in your refrigerator?  Do I detect candy cane on your breath?  Have you already been listening to Christmas music?  Now, full disclosure, I have already listened to Christmas music because it’s my job.  I have to.  I’m always working one season ahead.  What’s your excuse?

          It’s okay.  I think I know what you’re up to.  You’re simply applying the prophetic time paradigm-shift perfected by the Prophet Isaiah in today’s Old Testament reading.  That’s very impressive—especially for a bunch of laypeople.  I should have expected nothing less.

          Of course, that prophetic time paradigm-shift can be simply summarized by the phrase:  Now . . . and not yet.  Advent is “now” and Christmas is “not yet;” but sometimes the “not yet” has a way of breaking into the “now.”  Sometimes it’s darn near impossible to strictly segregate and separate the “now” from the “not yet.”  Isaiah and all the prophets regularly tinker with time in just this way.

          Today’s prophecy from Isaiah is mostly about the future—about the “not yet.”  Just listen:  It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the

Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.”  This “mountain of the Lord,” this high and holy “house,” corresponds to the church—the body of Jesus Christ.  This is Christ’s kingdom in which He will reign supreme as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  Its holiness and glory will be evident and apparent.  It is not hidden or weak; but it shines forth for all—giving light and life for all.  But this messianic kingdom is not yet.  It is yet to come in all its heavenly splendor.

          But did you catch the “now” parts?  Did you catch the parts of that future kingdom that are already here and now?  For instance, “all the nations” shall flow to it.  Now, in the lingo of the Old Testament, that phrase, “all the nations,” is nothing like the line-up of nations now gathered in Qatar to kick around a soccer ball.  When Isaiah says, “The nations,” he means the Gentiles—the unclean—the outsiders—a great, diverse multitude which comes from all four corners of the globe.  That’s us!  And we’re here!  Already now!  Today, somebody at your house got up and said or at least thought, “Let’s go to God’s house that He may teach us His ways.”  And here you are.  That one, holy, Christian and apostolic church is already now—but not yet fully and gloriously visible.

          Consider also the supremely peaceful reign of the Messiah. That perfectly peaceful kingdom is not yet fully revealed.  Unlike the Messiah’s coming kingdom, we now live in a world full of weapons.  And those weapons get discharged daily on the streets of Milwaukee and Chicago.  And those weapons get discharged on the plains of the Ukraine, and on the city streets of Mariupol.  Swords and spears, missiles and tanks continue to take a terrible toll in human blood.  It’s not yet here; but the day IS coming when swords and spears will be refashioned into plowshares and pruning hooks—simple farming implements—when fighter jets and armed drones will become useless museum relics—because war will be no more.  But not yet.

          But we can’t overlook today’s last sentence from Isaiah.  Because that last sentence pulls everything into the “now.”  It puts it all in the present tense.  Isaiah is addressing you as surely as he spoke to the people of Judah seven centuries ago.  So listen up:  Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.  Because what’s “not yet” is so wonderful, we can already start to live in that light today.  Already now—today—we can walk in the light of the Lord.  Our thinking, our speaking, our actions—can be shaped and empowered because we know what’s coming.  Like children counting down the days to Christmas—tearing through the Advent calendar each day—we  know that “all heaven” is about to break loose.  We know what God has in store for this old earth.  We know the “not yet,” and the “not yet” breaks into our “now.”

          Are you confused?  Don’t be.  It’s as elementary as the whole Advent versus Christmas debate.  Why do you have the urge to sing Christmas carols in November?  Why will you hang your stocking with care and sing “Silent Night” and light up your house like a good old-fashioned Griswald Christmas—and do it all long before the cry goes up on December 25^th that unto us a Son is born, unto us a child is given?  Why?  Because Christmas can’t be contained!  The good news of great joy that a Savior has been born—it just spills out everywhere—even right here on the first Sunday in Advent.

          What does that Christmas spillover look like?  Isaiah tells us:  Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.  Walking in the light of the Lord means casting off the works of darkness.  That’s what St. Paul makes clear in today’s reading from Romans.  Since we Christians live in the light of day, he writes, “let us cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light.  Let us walk properly as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy.”  Those deeds of darkness don’t suit you at all.  Don’t let those dark deeds be your way of life.  That’s not who you are!  The road of Advent is the road of repentance.  Advent is your time to leave behind the deeds of darkness and to start living already today in the light and love and that Jesus came to give.

          When we gather for worship, all the rules of time get suspended.  The now and the not yet merge together.  The same Lord Jesus who rode a humble donkey into Jerusalem days before His death—He also comes among us here—now—today.  The death He died, the blood He shed, the power of His forgiveness—it all comes crashing into this moment.  And we hail Him with our hosannas.  We bend our knees at the Communion rail as He comes among us.  Here Jesus draws you out of the darkness of sin, and transforms you into children of the light.  In His holy absolution—in His holy Word—in His Holy Supper—Jesus Christ comes here and now—today.  Heaven breaks loose!  The Messiah’s Kingdom comes crashing in.  The “not yet” of heaven’s glory spills over into real time—into this moment on this day—right now.  Just like Christmas has seeped into your life already on this First Sunday in Advent.

          So let the celebrating begin.  Let your words and deeds today be shaped by the fact that you’ve already got one foot in heaven’s door.  Jesus Christ has already blazed a trail from heaven above to earth below.  Let that heavenly light shine in you—and through you to others.  And if that means celebrating Christmas a little on the early side, no worries.  It cannot be helped.  For the people walking in darkness have seen a great light.  Come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.

          In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.