Collect for Advent
Almighty God,
Give us grace to cast away the works of darkness
and to put on the armour of light
now in the time of this mortal life
in which your Son Jesus Christ came to us in great humility;
that on the last day
when he shall come again in his glorious majesty
to judge the living and the dead,
we may rise to the life immortal;
through him who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen.

One of my favourite Christian authors lived a very long time ago. It is St. Augustine of Hippo, who died in the year 430. I like him because he was honest and insightful in so many matters regarding faith, and because he wrote some absolutely beautiful prayers. One short but very famous prayer of his is this: “O Lord, our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” This one-line prayer says so much about human life and human nature: that our hearts are filled with longing — a longing that we try in so many ways to satisfy, but that truly can only be satisfied by God.

I thought of this prayer of St. Augustine’s when I pondered the readings for this Sunday, especially the reading from the prophet Isaiah, and Psalm 80 chosen to go with it. The passage from Isaiah begins with an appeal to the Lord,

“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down,
so that the mountains would quake at your presence…”

There is such longing here, such a desire for God’s presence, for God to be here, among us. I mean, who really wants to see the mountains quake? It’s terrifying. But the prophet, speaking for the people, expresses a longing for God so intense that it surpasses what would normally be a terrifying sight, to see the mountains quake.

And then Isaiah goes on with more appeals and pleas to the Lord.

One is, basically: God, you did such awesome deeds in the past. But where are you now? We do not see such deeds, and the nations do not know you.

And second: We know we have done wrong, O God. And we know that you work for those who gladly do right, and who remember you. But we have sinned, and you have hidden your face from us.

And the third appeal: Do not be angry at us, O Lord. We are your people. “We are the work of your hand.” “We are the clay, and you are our potter.”

Put together, these appeals to God sound like children who know they have been bad, but tell their parents, “Look, we’re your kids. It’s only because you weren’t here that we did bad. Don’t forget us. Don’t forsake us.” The Psalm, which says much the same as Isaiah does, ends with these words:

“Turn us again, O Lord God of hosts;
show the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved.”

In other words, show us your face, O God, and let us see you work. Turn us from our ways, keep us from doing what is wrong. And then everything will be all right. We’ll be safe then.

These appeals to God reflect three longings that are basic to human life and human nature:

A longing for God’s presence.

A longing to be loved.

And a longing to be clean.

That last one might sound strange. A longing to be clean? Pure in heart and soul? Isn’t it so much more fun to be naughty?, some might think.

Well, some people may be satisfied not being clean, but I doubt they are truly happy. When I see people who seem to revel in their badness, they do not seem happy at all. How much better it would be not to look back on one’s past with regrets for deeds done or left undone. How much better it would be to go through life without struggles against temptations or sins. How much better it would be just to be clean and whole.

Then there’s the struggle to be loved. Everyone has it, at some level. Everyone wants to be known for who they are, and loved, with constancy and faithfulness. It’s like having a home one can go back to, no matter what.

And the longing for God’s presence. Sure, some people, perhaps many people, would say nowadays that they don’t care about that. What do they care about God? But I believe it is basic to human nature to want — to long for — a connection with something much larger and more significant than oneself. It is one reason people join all sorts of groups, including even gangs and terrorist groups — the desire to belong, the desire to matter, the desire for someone in authority to want you.

But all such earthly attempts to fill this longing fall flat, in the end. “O Lord, our hearts are restless until they rest in you.” The longing to be clean, the longing to be loved, are also, at their root, the desire for God’s presence: to be able to see God’s hand at work, to feel that what one has done in the past has been wiped clean and forgotten, and to feel that one lives surrounded and filled with the grace of God.

And into these longings to be clean, to be loved, to know God’s presence, comes Christ. Jesus Christ, who came and wiped away people’s sins, who came and showed people what God’s love feels like, who walked around and was himself God’s very presence. In the face of such basic human longings, Christ said that our hearts need not be restless anymore, for they can rest in him. In the Eucharist with which he feeds us, we can find nourishment and refreshment for our souls. In the prayers we offer, in our worship, we can turn to him and he will cleanse our hearts and minds and souls and assure us of God’s love.

It is as Saint Paul wrote to the Corinthians. He wrote, “I give thanks to my God always for you because of the grace of God that has been given you in Christ Jesus.” The grace of Christ has been given to you, he says, because you have been enriched in him, your speech and knowledge are guided by him, you are not lacking in any spiritual gift, he says. And, he adds, Christ will strengthen you. In other words, your life is filled with the grace of God given by Christ, you are guided, you are blessed, God walks with you in what you do, and Christ will give you strength. And we can breathe a sigh of relief, and know that our hearts need not be restless anymore.

On this Sunday we enter the season of Advent, the season of preparation for the coming of Christ. As we get closer to Christmas, we will hear more about preparing for the birth and ministry of Jesus. But right now, on this first Sunday, we are looking toward the Second Coming of Christ. We are looking toward the end of time, the fulfilment of all of God’s purposes, and the fulfilment of all our longings. The season of Advent is, at its root, a season of longing and of expectation, of sorrow for our failings as a people, as humanity, and of rejoicing in the coming of the Lord. May God watch over each one of us, cleanse our hearts and souls, assure us of his everlasting love, and fill our lives with his grace and presence.

Amen.