In the opening song of the musical The Cotton Patch Gospel, the chorus sings: "Somebody said, 'It's the second coming,' someone said, 'It's the first.' Somebody said, It's the best that could happen,' someone said, 'It's the worst.'"
In Gainesville, Georgia, the setting of The Cotton Patch Gospel, the locals apparently saw a connection between the first and second comings. But in the rest of North America, any attention to the second coming during December seems out of place. Judgment and other "signs of the age" certainly do not fit with our marketplace Advent and Christmas celebrations. With the national retail economy hinging on the shopping days between Thanksgiving and Christmas, any hint of a second coming could only spell economic disaster. How many skis or Baby Alives or hot tubs would we purchase if we were serious about praying, "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly"?
Even our biblical stories and churchy activities do not seem to match the second coming very well. Jesus meek and mild, singing angels, worshiping cows, and gift-bearing wise men from the opening chapters of the gospels seem a long way from the judgment and terrors of Matthew 24. So do our Advent and Christmas celebrations with their carols, trees, wreaths, and candles, or the Christmas pageants with our children and grandchildren portraying bathrobed shepherds and winged angels. Advent and Christmas are mostly about sweetness and light, and seem at odds with the fearsome images of judgment that we associate with the second coming.
Standing on Tiptoe
But the wisdom of the church knows better. The church has, for a long time, linked the first and second comings of Jesus. Increasing use of the lectionary for sermon texts and topics has strengthened that linkage.
Why does it make biblical sense to preach and sing about the second coming while anticipating the first?
Think back to the prophecies about the coming of the Messiah. Isaiah, Micah, Zephaniah, and the other prophets describe a city and country and world that are sick unto death—moral death. Evil is rampant as people engage in false worship, disobey the Lord, neglect the poor, and are cruel to the dispossessed. Listen to these words from Zephaniah 3:
Woe to the city of oppressors,
rebellious and defiled.
She obeys no one,
she accepts no correction.
She does not trust in the LORD,
she does not draw near to her God.
Her officials are roaring lions,
her rulers are evening wolves
who leave nothing for the morning.
Her prophets are arrogant;
they are treacherous men.
Her priests profane the sanctuary,
and do violence to the law.
This city is a moral cesspool. It needs a rescuer, a savior, a Messiah. The world that has forsaken God needs Immanuel—God must come very close to people to rescue them. This darkness is in desperate need of light. This crooked world begs for someone to put things right. This corrupt city needs someone to bring justice. These leaders, pulling corrupt strings or wielding whips of oppression, need to be trampled by a righteous judge and Lord:
"Therefore wait for me," declares the LORD,
"for the day I will stand up to testify.
I have decided to assemble the nations,
to gather the kingdoms,
and to pour out my wrath on them—
all my fierce anger"
And this people, bowed down under oppression, with hardly enough strength left to call out, needs someone to rescue them, to love them, to live among them:
Sing, O Daughter of Zion!
Shout aloud, O Israel!
Be glad and rejoice with all your heart,
O Daughter of Jerusalem!
The LORD, the King of Israel, is with you.
At that time I will gather you;
at that time I will bring you home.
God's people of old stood on tiptoe and craned their necks trying to find that Savior on the horizon. Their world was in great need.
It still was in great need of redemption six hundred years later. And that's why Mary and Zechariah, Anna and Simeon, the shepherds and the angels, all started singing when that Messiah got himself a manger, a house, a family, and a medical bag of miracles. They all rejoiced when that Messiah came and dwelt among us and set up his peaceable kingdom.
That was the first coming.
Not Yet
The Old Testament prophecies about that first coming are sharply etched and crystal clear. The world is in a mess, and the Savior will come and set things right. But the timeline of the event is a bit fuzzy. Did this take place in Bethlehem, two thousand years ago? Yes, the labor pangs and the healed lepers were there to prove it. But there's more. The prophecies also talked about a peaceable kingdom that will last, about toddlers playing with cobras and vipers, about shalom that won't quit.
"Are we there yet?" Not really. The ancient promise was fulfilled, but not completely. The Savior came, but his kingdom is not yet completely in place. Just look around. During Advent 1992 there was more than tinsel and wassail. We also saw images of dying orphans in Somalia and of ravaged cities and women in Bosnia. We heard of people stealing children's Christmas presents, and of church leaders preying on children. Advent 1993 will have its own horrors. The "not yet" of a completed shalom will be agonizingly obvious to the orphans of Romania and the homeless of North America. The lack of wholeness will be seen in the divisions in our churches and the crevices in our families. Zephaniah's voice still sounds:
Woe to the city of oppressors,
rebellious and defiled.
But so does the promise:
The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
Our Advent times are like the waiting times of Israel. They cried, "O come, O come, Immanuel, and ransom us." And we say "O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!"
As worship leaders this Advent season we will lead God's people in singing "Hark, the glad sound! The Savior comes." Choir directors will feel the excited weariness of rehearsing cantatas and lessons and carols. Banner committees will design exciting colors and symbols. Worship planning groups will choose members to light the Advent wreath candles. Pastors will prepare thoughtful sermons on preparing our hearts for Jesus' coming.
But in the midst of this festivity and during the anticipation of our Christmas Eve candlelight service, we will also remind the congregation to whisper, "Lord Jesus, come quickly."