The Journey of Waiting

For over 2000 years, the followers of Christ have been awaiting his return. 

Since the Son of Man’s feet disappeared into the clouds at the Ascension, generations of the faithful have been searching with great anticipation for signs of the Bridegroom.

It’s fair to say that our patron St. Paul, and the earliest disciples expected to see that return in their lifetimes.

They expected to join the faithful departed, to be “caught up in the clouds together with them to meet the Lord in the air; and [to be with] the lord forever.”

But as the years dragged on, and as the expectation of an imminent return gave way to acceptance that more patience would be required—the church began to wrestle with what the reality of delay meant for our common life.

Some adopted the stance that faithfulness meant maintaining the ardent zeal of expecting the Son of Man’s return, and a recent subset of this group has sought to capitalize on this fervor—making a lucrative business out of the concept of the rapture.

Others read the delay as a sign that the Lord was never going to return and chose instead to invest in the temporal power and institution of the church, setting it up as the arbiter of eternity in the Lord’s absence.

But the saints I most admire have charted a third path in between these extremes.

They are the ones whose lives are characterized with the former group’s ardent expectation of Christ’s return and the latter group’s sense of the value of a common history and enduring structure to communicate that expectation beyond the current generation.

These saints are the ones who live in the now with all their hearts, souls, and minds, and who also build and live for those who will come after them.

These are the ones who know that the kind of oil that lights the lamp of faith can’t be bought in the marketplace, but only amassed through the hard, intentional work of prayer yoked with works of mercy.

While the world ending, apocalyptic return of the Lord coming in the clouds could indeed happen in our lifetime, I prefer to spend my energy and time looking for God’s return in the details of daily life.

To see where heaven and earth are becoming one as ancient wounds are healed— as a child who believed the false gospel of shame and oppression experiences freedom in Christ and community—as the complex ministry of reconciliation makes former enemies into siblings.

Because the more time I spend looking for signs of Christ’s presence among us, the more I witness them, and the more convinced I am that the second coming is already underway.

The Bridegroom I know is no absentee landlord, but rather an abiding presence.

As one who longs to serve Christ and our triune God above all other competing idols, I experience that presence as I draw near to God in prayer and as I work with and seek to better love the many neighbors God puts in my life.

I never do this perfectly, and I’m always aware of the ways in which my actions and intentions fall short of the example of Jesus.

But the more I believe that Christ is already among us, connecting us and healing us through the Holy Spirit, the more my eyes are opened to the enduring reality of the kingdom of heaven on earth.

And that is why I keep insisting that human beings are more than economic units, more than discrete cultural and national interests, more than disconnected individuals doomed to further isolation in the age of technological connectivity.

That is why I keep working within the institution of the church even though its structure and its members have disappointed and disillusioned at least as much as it has communicated the way, the truth and the life.

Like others before, I want to be like the wise bridesmaids who know that the Bridegroom will be delayed, but who have prepared for that reality—and the actuality that ALL of us fall asleep—by having enough oil for the journey of waiting.

How do we have enough oil for this journey of waiting?

I think it begins by keeping the light of hope alive through regular gatherings and worship with the community of faith. 

The parable isn’t just about one foolish bridesmaid and one wise one, but about 5 and 5.

We need each other and we can help support one another in remaining ready and expectant to see God at work in the world if we invest in being community.

Part of our weekly worship is about connecting us at deeper levels so we keep the flame of hope alive together.

That’s why we offer healing prayers together after the service, it’s why we take communion together, and it is why we look for ways to serve together.

When we allow the Holy Spirit to connect us to one another, we begin to learn increasingly deeper lessons about how we can love one another better.

And those lessons point us back to loving the God who makes such connection and growth possible. 

The more connected to one another we are—not simply in the tribal sense that is most common in our world— the more possibility we have to see connection with even wider communities.

Jesus showed us that such connection can even extend to those who identify as our enemies and even to those who would crucify us.

And our tradition’s greatest saints— whose lives have produced enough extra oil for the journey of facing down systems of power with communities of resistance— have done so because they knew themselves to be rooted in God and inextricably linked to a diverse body of neighbors.

They called on God, and expected God to return and accompany them— and they were not disappointed.

Such a disposition, accompanied with diligence and the daily bread of increasing awareness, is what allows our stores of oil to be replenished and to even overflow.

Like the Widow of Zarephath in the 1^st Book of Kings, who cared for the prophet Elijah— in providing for others and looking for the divine presence within them, we will both see the signs of God and be filled with food for the journey of waiting that lies before us.

No matter how long it takes—

May our journey of waiting be a shared one.

May our journey of waiting be an active one.

And may our journey of waiting be filled with expectation, hope, faith, and the extra oil of grace that keeps us searching for the Bridegroom in all places, all faces, and all spaces.