A worship video of this sermon is available here.
In case you’re wondering if you’re having deja vu, yes, this is, indeed, our fourth apocalyptic text in as many Sundays. Three weeks ago there were quite a few similarities in the “punch line” of keep awake, when we heard the story from Matthew of the ten bridesmaids waiting for the bridegroom who was delayed. Then in the next two weeks there were parables – one of the talents that offered a vision of the kindom of God where the conventional economic system is turned upside down, and another of the sheep and the goats where the needs of the “least of these” are centered. These stories may not feel like “apocalypse,” but they are depictions of how we are called to live when we know that there is going to be a great reckoning and setting things right, but it hasn’t happened to completion just yet.
And now here on the fourth Sunday in a row, the first Sunday of a new Christian year, the first Sunday of Advent, the season of waiting for this coming of Christ, we have another description of what some call “the end times.” For us Presbyterians, who tend to be known for our orderliness, this is an awful lot of talk about the chaos of the unknown and unpredictable. And yet, one of the commentaries I read a few weeks ago when thinking about the Matthew passage said “The expectation of Christ’s return is central to Christian living.”¹
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Some date it back to the 15th century, but others claim it’s from the 18th. The roots of the story in the carol are actually more ancient than any of this, though, coming from the first few centuries of the church’s existence, from a gospel account that is not contained in our Scriptures. In the carol Mary and Joseph are traveling to Bethlehem where she will eventually deliver her child. Along the way the expectant mother Mary is hungry and asks Joseph to stop and get her a cherry from an orchard they are passing, for the baby. Joseph snaps back bitterly, telling her to let the child’s father get him a cherry to eat. 
lower gathering space, I was thrilled to learn about this tradition here at Fox Valley Presbyterian Church. I have a collection of nativity scenes that some might say borders on an obsession. In fact, I’m pretty sure the movers who will load their many boxes onto a moving truck in about 10 days will confirm that obsession. I was excited in particular that the crèche tradition here in this church includes encouraging the children to touch the pieces and interact with them instead of constantly ushering them away lest the treasures get broken. This is a lovely tradition, and I even brought my own kids in to see it midweek while they were visiting since they won’t be here until Christmas Eve. 
The Song of Zechariah found in Luke 1:68-79, are some of the first words the priest uttered upon the birth of his son, John, the cousin of Jesus, the one we know as John the Baptist. Zechariah had been made mute by the angel Gabriel at the start of his wife’s pregnancy because of his fear and disbelief, but when the child was born and Zechariah and Elizabeth named him John as Gabriel had instructed them, his tongue was freed and filled with Holy Spirit John’s father, Zechariah, spoke this prophecy. Listen now for the words he proclaimed.
two men in their twenties had been arrested for shooting five people involved in the protests around the recent police killing of an African American man in north Minneapolis. Two more were later arrested, all four were suspected white supremacists. It was just hours before the dashboard cam video of the horrific killing of teenager Laquan McDonald in Chicago was released worldwide. Add these recent events to the recent terrifying tide of violence and centuries old systemic racism against African Americans in this country and in this week of giving thanks instead I was asking, along with throngs of others online and around the country, “How long, O Lord?” 
For Some Reason 