This is the time of year when pastors’ thoughts
turn to waiting. The season of Advent is soon upon us, and Advent is all about
waiting. We will light candles, one a week, until the Advent wreath is filled, announcing
Christ’s birth once again.
The front pages of the newspapers, local and national, are
filled with news of waiting, also. They tell of anxiety and fear in Ferguson and
beyond, as we wait for the grand jury’s decision. The waiting is almost
palpable.
Stores around here are planning for Black Friday sales,
waiting for swarms of shoppers. (Some are planning Thanksgiving Day sales, but
I, for one, will not be shopping that day.
The year that a child who was working retail had to leave our family
celebration prematurely taught me that there are more important things than a
sale.)
Stores in and around Ferguson are preparing, also. They are
putting plywood over their storefronts, preparing for the possibility of
rioting.
Our church is preparing for decorations and the Hanging of
the Green.
Churches on the other side of this state are preparing for
prayer vigils. Some are preparing to
open their doors as safe shelters from the unrest outside. They are gathering first aid kits and water
bottles. Imagine that. First aid kits that are not for Mozambique or a
developing country, but for persons living in a metropolitan area.
Protesters are waiting for their call to action. Police are
waiting for their call to action. On all sides, most are committed to
nonviolence. Some are not, and therein lies much of the danger.
Waiting for the birth of the Prince of Peace. Waiting for a
grand jury verdict and community responses. These two anticipations are messy
and intertwined. It was a messy, unjust, and violent world into which the Christ
Child came all those years ago, and things have not changed too much.
No, things have not changed nearly enough. And that might
just be the best news of all. Christ entered
our world once, and he still does not shy away from our messiness and
pain. Regardless of what a grand jury
speaks, Christ is present among us and brings us hope.
In a few weeks, we will sing by candlelight about how “the
hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.” Hope and fear often find themselves mingled together,
and it is into that very reality that Christ becomes most present. Christ does indeed come, to Bethlehem, Ferguson, Blue Springs,
or wherever you may be. The Prince of
Peace is present.
