Walking the Path of Advent: A Season of Holy Waiting and Trust

by Pastor Sean

Welcome, congregants and friends, to the Season of Advent – a special and holy season that puts us modern folks to the test.

To kick off our Advent Devotionals for 2024, an effort in which I am accompanied by our church’s members and partners, I wrestled with how to walk us through the gates of Advent – how to reorient us to a season of holy waiting when the world outside swirls and shudders, panicked and driven by modern progress. And to be honest, I wasn’t quite sure how to welcome us in. So I turned to our scripture selections – which for me meant Psalm 25.

In reflecting on Psalm 25:1-10, the first of our readings, I found myself surprised by the psalmist’s trust in God – a trust that was sustained over a long period of time in which the writer suffered oppression, shame, and a total lack of support from the earthly powers around them. And yet, the writer’s resilience shines through: they beseech their God, our God, to guide them along life’s path – to overlook their past stumbles, to walk with them unto a way everlasting, and to bring them into the company of the loving and forgiving divine. The psalmist trusts in God no matter how long it takes them to walk their path, no matter how long and winding the path. I look to the psalmist with appreciation, and some envy – especially during this, the Season of Advent.

During Advent, there is no rushing forward to a fast-tracked end; there is no instant gratification of our needs, no way to shorten what has already been a long spiritual journey toward the Birth of the Christ Child. For those of us who demand speed and efficiency, who define ourselves by our productivity, this season of graceful and grateful waiting can be quite difficult.

The capacity for patient waiting – with certainty, with uncertainty – is not, if you look at our modern world, a skill taught widely or valued highly. The idea of walking God’s winding path at length, not just for the month of Advent but for a person’s whole life… it seems so hard to live into, to make real, especially in the modern world. Instead, we are told that our meaning is to “go, go, go” – toward work, toward school, toward prestige, toward accomplishment. Movement is the mantra of our lives. Yet during Advent, we cannot rush or skip ahead. We can only wait week to week for what is to come – shifting one day at a time through shorter days and longer nights, through weeks of Hope and Peace and Joy until… the arrival of our Savior, of course. But God, my God, the waiting can be difficult!

Take heart, fellow Christian: know that you are not alone in this season of ‘spiritual pregnancy’ – this season of holy waiting, and taking each day and each week as they come. We all struggle with the wait, with yielding to whatever is next. That’s where faith comes in. Faith, which breeds patience and trust; patience and trust, which help us to love God and love one another more authentically and sustainability. In the waiting, we find time to be with one another; to wrestle with our faith. The waiting that we’ve come to dread, the slow lurch toward Christmas… perhaps it’s exactly what we need to experience so that we can find new way of living into God’s love – with one another, and with everyone else, too.

Though we float on unsteady seas, our holy ship is well-equipped – and the company, our congregation, is as fine as I could imagine. Now is a time for prayer and patience. Let’s get to sailing across this Advent sea.

– Pastor Sean

To assist with centering you, dear reader, I offer the following poem by Rob Bell – a poem I’ve read out during a past service, and one that (hopefully) informs your approach to this holy season. This poem is called “Walk, Don’t Run.”

Walk, don’t run. That’s it. Walk, don’t run.

Slow down, breathe deeply, and open your eyes – because there’s a whole world right here within this one. The bush didn’t suddenly catch fire, it’s been burning the whole time.

Moses is simply moving slowly enough to see it. And when he does, he takes off his sandals. Not because the ground has suddenly become holy, but because he’s just now becoming aware that the ground has been holy the whole time.

Efficiency is not God’s highest goal for your life; neither is busy-ness, or how many things you can get done in one day, or speed, or even success.

But walking, which leads to seeing, now that’s something. That’s an invitation for every one of us today, and every day, in every conversation, interaction, event, and moment: to walk, not run. And in doing so, to see a whole world right here within this one.