Anticipation

1st Sunday of Advent

November 27, 2005

Anticipation

This is one of the greatest object lessons of Advent ever…this bottle of Heinz ketchup. And the television advertisement a few years back was just great. Picture it in your mind. A ten-year-old boy is standing outside next to the family grill. In one hand is a hot dog bun in which is nestled a sizzling wiener hot off the grill. In the other hand is an inverted Heinz ketchup bottle, and in his eyes we see a hopeful longing as he eagerly waits for the bottle to release a bit of its taste enhancing contents. And in the background we hear the ad chorus sing, "Anticipation, anticipation is making me wait." Yea, that's anticipation.

Well, so is Advent; anticipation, that is. Advent is anticipation. Now, I might stop short equating the mood of Advent, the season of eager anticipation of the coining of Christ, with a bottle of Heinz ketchup. Equating Advent with a popular condiment might be a bit flippant. To suggest that our waiting for Christ can be compared to ketchup finally pouring from the narrow neck of a bottle certainly flirts with the danger of trivializing what will certainly be the most untrivial event in all of human history. But there is something almost divinely tempting here that persuades me to proceed cautiously with a couple rather interesting parallels. Bear with me. In all this silliness we may yet expose a kernel of truth.

I am emboldened to do this, by the way, by an event that occurred over years ago. For several Sundays in the fall of 1972 I preached at a congregation in Winona, Minnesota. They were between pastors and I was a senior seminarian close enough to serve them on Sunday mornings. In one of my sermons I compared Christianity with a deluxe combination pizza. Twenty years later I met the pastor who was called to serve that congregation after I left. His name was Bill Kallestad. At our first meeting at a North Central District function, after we had introduced ourselves. Bill said, "Dan Mangler? Did you supply preach at a church in Winona back in 1972?" I said, in some surprise, "Yes, I did." He went on, "You preached a sermon on Christianity and pizza they are still talking about." Now, I don't know how many "they" are, nor even if the continued talk was favorable or unfavorable. But its kind of a kick to think that someone there remembers something I said that many years ago.

Heinz ketchup and the Second Coming. Christianity and pizza. I think I feel a series coming on – faith and food. But consider the boy with the hot dog. There is something in that ketchup bottle he wants, he needs. He knows it is there; he can see it. So he takes the bottle, tips it upside down, and waits. He doesn't know when, but he knows it will come. It may be a short wait. It might be a long wait. But he knows his wait will eventually be rewarded. He also knows that, though he knows it will come, when it does come it will be a surprise, and he'd better be ready when it comes or he's going to have a mess on his hands. Impatient people may shake such a bottle, or may hit the bottle on the bottom, or stick a knife in through the narrow neck. But the boy, I think, knows that hurrying ketchup is fruitless It just makes a mess. He can do no more than hold the inverted bottle and wait, prepared for its eventual release of its contents. He can do nothing more; and he dare not do anything less. And the whole of his waiting can be summed up in the word "anticipation". "Anticipation, anticipation is making me wait."

And that is where we are as we begin the Advent season this Sunday. We begin with a promise and an expectation that Jesus will come again. In that promise, in that expectation, in that assured hope that Jesus will come again in power and glory is our reminder that the final victory is God's, that truth, righteousness, and justice will be vindicated, and that there will be an end to history as all of life finds its final fulfillment in Christ. We know Jesus will come again, because God has shown us that in Holy Scripture. We know that there is nothing we can neither hurry that day nor delay that day. We know that all the playing with symbolic numbers and years and attempting to predict its date is futile and succeeds only in messing up the message and making a circus of God's grand design. Our part is limited and we see it embodied in the boy waiting for his ketchup. We bring our lives into God's presence. We patiently go about the only task we can. And we, with keen anticipation, watch and wait.

We can deal with the first two of these quickly. First, we bring ourselves into God's presence. Wouldn't it be a disaster if the ketch finally came and the hot dog wasn't there? How infinitely more tragic were Jesus to come and not find us waiting. Second, as there was but one thing the boy could do with his ketchup bottle, and that was to hold it inverted, there is but one thing we can do as we wait for the coming of Jesus - simply be about his work. Martin Luther was once asked what he would do if Jesus were coming tomorrow. He answered, "I'd plant a tree today". If planting the tree were God-pleasing before he knew Jesus was coming, why wouldn't it be just as God pleasing now?

I think, by in large, we are faithful in these first two. We bring ourselves into God's presence, privately in prayer and meditation, and corporately as we meet around Word and Sacrament. And we try, though, not always successfully, to be about the work of God. We are forever struggling to translate biblical examples into contemporary events.

What we don't do very well, I believe, is watch - watch with the same eager expectation and anticipation that marked the boy in the Heinz commercial. We don't watch for the Second Coming of Jesus with the anticipation that is evident in 1 Corinthians and Mark this morning. How many are actively waiting, as were the Corinthians, "for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ"? How many watch with the urgency enjoined by Jesus in Mark 13 when in four verses he says three times "watch"? Where is that eager anticipation that should be our mood this time of year?

Anticipation for the sure event with the unknown date is buried under the preparation for an historical event with a defined date for celebration. We live in a countdown age. Launch minus 15 seconds quickly becomes Christmas minus 25 shopping days. Even in the church we somewhat co-opt Advent with an Advent wreath which counts down to Christmas. We have left no room in our faith for surprises. Christmas is Dec. 25 and that means I have this many days to buy presents, send cards, and prepare my holiday goodies. We can anticipate Christmas because we can control it. Where is the faith that can actively wait and eagerly anticipate something that is totally in God's hands? Where is our mood of anticipation this Advent?

I looked and looked to find an illustration, other than the ketchup bottle that would convey what I believe to be our proper Advent mood, one of patient, watchful anticipation. And here it is.

A young man, a sailor on an 18th century sailing vessel, was deeply in love with a young woman in a certain harbor town. His intent was to marry her, but he didn't have enough money to buy the house where they would live together. So he sailed away for one last voyage promising that upon his return, and with money for his labor, they would be married. From the time he left there wasn't a day the young lady did not cast her eyes out to sea. She knew he would return and marry her, but she did not know when. There was nothing she could do to hurry his return. She could only go about her daily activities, ever faithful to his love forsaking all others that might tempt her to stray, and watch with eager anticipation so that with his return her faithfulness would be rewarded with a life; of living and loving together.

That is the mood of Advent, not so much a boy waiting for ketchup for his hot dog, but more the loved living faithfully and watching eagerly for the lover to return, so that love may be experienced in its fullness. And for those who so live and watch, that living and loving is for eternity. Amen.

May the peace of God that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Amen.