December 1998 Issue

The time is even darker now, the days grow shorter and the nights grow longer. "Watchman, what of the night?" The time of Advent brings the assurance that although the ax is laid to the root of the tree as John so forcefully stated, yet the promise of God is not destroyed. "There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse and a branch shall grow out of his roots. And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord." (Isaiah 11:1-3)

This is a powerful word of hope as the light continues to recede; it provides an awareness that God's plan and purpose is not negated by our sinfulness, that the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world is no afterthought; rather "He was destined before the foundation of the world..." (I Peter 1:20) and made manifest to us and all people in the Incarnation which we celebrate at the time of Christmas.

This does not mean in any sense that God ignores our evil ways and disregards the "sin which clings so closely." (Heb. 12:1) The fact is that God takes seriously the reality that so often we stray from the "paths of righteousness" and fall into misery and despair. Advent reminds us that rather than forsake us in such times, God chooses to visit us, to come to us, to suffer and die for us and to open for us the gates of new life. God's resistance to sin is precisely because God wishes for us the best and grieves when we turn away into darkness. God breaks up the night with the brilliance of love and mercy and shatters the bonds which cut so deeply into our flesh and bones.

So it is that Isaiah paints a graphic picture for us of God's justice and mercy. God "will not judge by what his eyes see or decide by what his ears hear; but with righteousness he shall judge the poor and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;..." (Isaiah 11:3,4) This is another way of saying "... man looks on the outward appearance but the Lord looks on the heart." (I Samuel 16:7)

In a pastoral sense, this puts a proper perspective on the way we see our people - and for that matter, the way we see all people. It is our privilege to see beyond the obvious to the significant rather than reach judgments by considering only the external dimensions of what persons do. To be sure, it is quite important to take seriously what we see and hear; but in a pastoral perspective we can look deeper than the surface. The basic image by which we measure our own perception of persons is summarized in the so-called "Kenosis" passage in Philippians 2. Phillips translates verse 4, "None of you should think only of his own affairs, but should learn to see things from other people's point of view." This is followed by the magnificent words of how Christ Jesus did not grasp equality with God but came to us in humility taking upon himself the burden of our sins, identifying with us as we are so that we, through him, can become who we were created to be.

From this perspective it is possible to reach a deeper understanding of persons than might be derived from purely external observation. The fundamental question can be posed, "What does this behavior mean to this person, what is this behavior telling us about the inner struggle of the person, the tension, the fear, the loneliness, the despair?" This is a particularly important dimension to keep in mind during the Advent season when behavior often seems to be negative on the surface. Here is a person in the teen years who is "acting-out" in one way or another. Is it possible for us to see this as an appeal for help? It is often the case that such behavior may be the only way the young person has available to bring help to a marriage that is in trouble. If we concentrate on the "identified patient," as those in family systems would say, we may miss the deeper pain in the parents and in the other members of the family.

What of the sudden burst of anger by a member of the congregation? If we "judge" simply by what the eyes see or what the ears hear we may leave little if any place for "righteousness" and "equity" in our conclusions. What is the meaning of the depression of a senior citizen, of a young adult, of a person passing through a mid-life crisis? As pastors we have the opportunity to listen and to understand.

Even more poignantly, we have the opportunity to take the initiative to go to persons whose behaviors seem destructive to themselves and others. We, of all the professions, do not have to wait for persons to come to us. Rather, it is our privilege to approach people when we perceive that all is not well, to knock on doors, to pick up the telephone, to call at offices and places of work. Dr. Karl Menninger once said to a group of clergy, "you have a distinct advantage over those of us in the `helping professions' in that you are privileged to approach persons when the difficulties are just beginning while we have to wait until the problems are so great that relief is made more difficult for them to obtain." This is precisely the meaning of the Incarnation. God does not wait for us to mend our ways, to raise ourselves by our own boot-straps, to demonstrate our righteousness so that God's love is earned. On the contrary, as Paul put it so clearly in Romans, "...God shows his love for us that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." (5:8) The Advent season reminds us of this process and helps us to move towards persons whose lives give evidence of being in crisis.

At the same time, this initiative is always done in the "spirit of gentleness." (II Cor. 10:1) Put in other words, we do not coerce or force ourselves upon people. The basic paradigm for us is the way Jesus took the initiative not only in his birth but also in his ministry - but at the same time was quite sensitive to the fact that persons could receive him or reject him. Often he was asked to leave or was driven away; and the fact is that he left signified that he would not invade the right of persons to say "no" to his love. At Nazareth, in Gadara and many other instances he was rejected: "Right Young Rulers" turned away, and he let them go. We wept over the City because they would not let him gather them together as a hen gathers her chicks. Perhaps the best statement of this pastoral initiative which preserves the freedom of the parishioner is in Revelation 3:20: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any one hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him."

There is never any assurance that the door will be opened; but it does happen. In Advent we can expect the unexpected. Isaiah's words are dazzling. Wolves dwell with lambs, leopards lie down with kids, calves and lions and little children find peace. It is the promise which sustains us and the people who are intrusted to us. God draws near in the birth of Christ, and we are privileged to see the deeper meaning in what is apparent. And we have the privilege of enabling our people to do the same - to see beyond the tinsel and bustle, the pain and the suffering - the loneliness and the anxiety and know that the Lord God, the Omnipotent reigneth. To be sure, we do not yet see all things in subjection to God. "But we see Jesus, who for a little while was made lower than the angels, crowned with glory and honor..." (Heb. 2:9) And nowhere is this more evident than in Advent. As Paul put it, "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope." (Rom. 15:13)

William B. Oglesby, Jr. (deceased)