Watching and Waiting (Newsletter Article)

I’ve tried for years to grow tomatoes, not always successfully. That perfect combination of acidity and sweetness is found only on a tomato plant coaxed to grow in Georgia red clay. My grandfather, known for his gardening acumen, warned me not to plant too early. Don’t be tempted to plant tomatoes on a sunny spring day; frost may destroy your plans. Instead, watch the pecan trees. When you can see leaves on the top-most branches, then it’s time to plant tomatoes.

It’s hard to wait. In the spring, I’m eager to plant; in the summer, I’m eager for crisp fall mornings; and at this time of year I scarcely finish drying the Thanksgiving meal dishes before I start nagging, I mean encouraging, the family to put up the Christmas tree.

Yet the church knows we need to wait. We don’t dive into the Advent season with a full-scale candlelight service, but instead watch as one candle is lit this week, a second candle next week, taking weeks to light the Advent wreath candles. We don’t put out all the Christmas decorations at once, but add to them each week. We set out the manger scene, but hesitate, waiting before setting out the baby Jesus.

We don’t wait to find out the end of the story—we know that angels and shepherds and magi will arrive. But we recognize holiness in the humble birth, mystery in the Son of God born in our midst, and we hesitate. This is not like watching for the right time to plant or for the weather to change—this is a season of active waiting. We prepare ourselves, examine ourselves, consider relationships, question motives and actions. We wait as participants in the story. We watch God fulfill promises in Jesus’ birth, and in the watching and waiting we make room in our hearts for Christ’s coming.

We know that Christ has come; yet there are promises still to be fulfilled, promises of a time when the wolf will lie down with the lamb, when death will be swallowed up, and when every tear will be wiped away. We watch and wait together, in confident expectation that Christ will come again.

Come wait with me this Sunday,

Cyndi