Waiting

sermon by Torin Eikler
Psalms 27        Luke 13:31-35

A few weeks ago, I was at home with Alistair and Patrick on a Thursday morning.  (The day of the week matters since Alistair has school on Tuesday and Wednesday and Carrie and I are both home with the boys on Monday morning.)  That makes Thursday a bit of a challenge sometimes, and I usually deal with it by scheduling a trip to do errands that morning.  At least then we are out of the house with a schedule and a change of scenery every twenty to thirty minutes.

I say that I usually make Thursday errand day, but it doesn’t always work out that way.  Sometimes there is just too much that needs to be done around the house, or there isn’t a reason to go out on the town.  When that happens, mornings get long and tedious, and this was one of those days.

All morning Alistair was asking me to play a game or put together a puzzle or read a book – to give some time and attention to him.  My hands full of a baby and  my head full of the many things that needed to be done, I repeated again and again that we would do something later … once I had finished all my chores.

He seemed to be taking it well as he usually does, and we worked our way through the first couple hours.  Then, after yet another request … to build a marble run I think … and yet another (mildly frustrated) response of, “you just have to wait,” I heard Alistair say to himself as he turned away, “I’m in the waiting place.”

 

The words brought me up short.  In case you don’t know what the waiting place is, it’s one of Dr. Seuss’s inventions.  I described it in detail last May.  So, I won’t go into the details, but it is a dis-spiriting place.  Filled with people who are just standing or sitting around waiting for something to come or to change or to open up for them.

That is what Alistair was telling me.  Our house that morning was his waiting place.  He was stuck there … just waiting for something to happen … for me to find time in the morning to do something with him.  And that kind of waiting is hard.  I don’t have to tell you that.  I’m sure you have experienced it for yourselves.  It’s a part of every day of our lives.  Waiting at the grocery store.  Waiting at the doctor’s office.  Waiting, waiting, endless waiting …, or at least it always seems endless … and often pointless.

 

That’s what makes it so hard, I think.  We are all people who prefer to be doing.  We like being caught up in the business of life.  In our better moments, we are good Anabaptists who like doing the work of the kingdom wherever that takes us.  It can feel like a waste of time and energy to just sit and wait. 

When it comes down to it, though, I don’t believe this is the same kind of waiting that Dr. Seuss was talking about.  It is somehow more.  The Hebrew word we translate as “wait” comes from two other roots that mean “to twist or stretch” and “the feeling of enduring.”  It implies some sense of movement or tension even as it describes staying put.  In any case, it certainly isn’t just passively sitting there as we might think

 

Have you ever watched ants at work?  I found in youth great joy watching ants meandering along invisible chemical trails. I didn’t know about the chemical trails at the time, but I delighted in seeing their animated dances of life. There was something about a sense of purpose and a zest for life in their segmented bodily movements. I marveled at how fast they could run and how much a spirit of adventure seemed to mark their steps. Maybe it was my own desire to run with speed or spirit of adventure that I was transferring to the ants. Whatever it was, it was there.

When one ant would find a piece of discarded peanut butter and jelly-smeared bread or a bit of cracker that I had dropped near the line, it was almost as if I could hear an audible cry of delight from that ant who then quickly informed his siblings about the find. In moments the day of searching erupted into a dance of delight for the feast to come as they brought the bounty provided by an unnoticed hand back to the hive. I could spend great lengths of time just watching them dismantle the bread and carry it away. [1]

 

I think that’s the kind of waiting the Psalmist is talking about.  Going about what we need to be doing – following the chemical trails of God’s desire, if you will – the chemical trails discovered by believers over the years.  AND staying open and alert to the new possibilities … the new treasure troves of God’s grace that show up along the way.

It’s still waiting, but it’s waiting with the confidence that “we will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living” and not just in the life we have after our bodies die.  It’s waiting with a sense of assurance that God is at work among us and expecting that we will discover what God has for us to do when the time is right.

That’s the kind of waiting that I see in Jesus as he laments over Jerusalem.  He did not sit idly by until the time came for him to enter into the city.  He did not twiddle his thumbs until the moment when he was arrested, tried, and condemned.  He kept busy following the path laid down for him by centuries of prophets and by the Holy Spirit going before him.  Even though he had longed to “gather [those] children together” and bring them under the protective wings of God’s loving salvation, he was – if not content – than at least willing to wait until the time was right to go to them.

 

I know that we usually talk about expectant waiting as a part of the Advent season, and it is a particularly appropriate theme when we are anticipating the coming of the Christ child.  But I think that it should be an integral part of our lives all the time.  God does not wait until Advent to move in the world after all.  She is shaping and transforming our lives and all of creation all the time, and if we want to be a part of that good work (as we so often say that we do), then we should be living each day with the expectation that God will reveal his purposes and the hope that we will see and understand how we can be a part of them. 

So, I propose that we all take up the practice of being ants for Lent.  Some of you may have already given up something for Lent.  You may even have added something else to take its place as Carrie and I have suggested before.  But whether you have or not, I would like to ask you to take up this spiritual practice – the practice of expectant waiting – for the next several weeks (and maybe even beyond Easter morning as well).

As you prepare for each day, remind yourself that God is at work in your life and in the world.  Focus your attention for a few minutes on your connection to God and your desire to be part of what God is doing.  Reassure yourself with the words of the Psalmist, saying “I am confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord….”  And then head out into the business of life, following one of the many trails laid down for us with an eye open for the surprising morsel or grace that the Spirit will reveal to you.

It may be that you will go days without discovering one of those crumbs, or you may uncover a feast worthy of a king in no time at all.  It’s not really about the results – or at least it’s not about getting results quickly.  It is about orienting ourselves the right way … about setting our minds and hearts on recognizing and embracing God in our daily living.  And it is important because seeking God in the middle of our confused and busy lives is one of the most essential parts of our calling as disciples.  How can we follow the one we call Teacher, Lord, Savior, and Friend, if we can’t or don’t find the paths prepared for us?

Wake up calls come in many different forms.  Alistair’s words on Thursday reminded me that there are things that are more important than loading the dish washer or making bread.  Without meaning to, he called me out of my morning’s manic obsession and into the time and space that God wanted us to share, and the two of us (three of us, counting Patrick) sat and read and built towers with blocks and laughed and loved and found joy.

The Psalmist is calling us to the very same thing.  Pay attention to God’s time and space, and you will find that God does not fail.  God’s goodness is always before us here and now and it brings hope for our spirits and provides strength for getting through the day.  So, “wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord,” and you will find hope and love and joy overflowing into your life.  You will find the presence of the Lord who is our light, our salvation, our stronghold, our confidence, our safety, our shelter, our teacher, and our Savior leaving all sorts of trails throughout your life.

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[1] inspired by Paul O Myhre from http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx