Sermon for Advent 1, 30th November 2025

When I was growing up, one of the things I used to really look forward to at this time of year, was opening the windows on an Advent calendar. It seems a bit quaint in a way now, looking back, because unlike these days when you can get Advent calendars that have all sorts of goodies behind the windows, all we could expect to find was a picture of something to do with Christmas. It might have been a Christmas tree or a present, or a shepherd or a lamb, but the last window, the one marked ‘24’ would invariably have either a picture of star or of a baby in a manger behind it. And, in those days when pretty much everybody knew the real meaning of Christmas, you wouldn’t have really expected to see anything else behind that window. In fact I, and am sure most other people too, would have been surprised if we hadn’t seen something like that there, and if we had, we’d have wondered what on earth this had to do with Christmas?   

I mention this because, in a sense, I think we can look at the story of the people of Israel as being a little like people opening windows on an Advent calendar, in the hope that they’d find things that they both wanted and expected to find there.  

Perhaps the first thing they might have wanted to find was hope itself. Israel was God’s chosen people. God had promised to be their God, and he’d called them to live as his people, and they’d been promised a land to call their own. But things hadn’t worked out in the way they wanted or expected. They hadn’t lived as God wanted them to, and as a result, they hadn’t always enjoyed God’s favour. And through both exile and foreign occupation, they’d even lost the land they’d been promised. And so they were looking for hope, hope that God would come to their rescue.  

They would also have wanted to find love, God’s love, the assurance that, in spite of everything, God did still love them. As part of that love, they were looking for mercy, the assurance that, in spite of everything, in spite of all the times they’d failed to live up to their part of their covenant with God, in spite of all the times they’d turned their back on God and chased after the god’s of other peoples, God would be merciful towards them, that he wouldn’t abandon them for ever, nor punish them forever.  And so they would also have been looking to find forgiveness from God. They wanted God to give them another chance to get things and put things right between them.  

We could say they wanted an assurance from God that they were still his people, and he was still their God. And ultimately, what they were looking for, and what they were expecting, was that God himself would fulfil all their hopes and expectations by sending a Messiah to bring all this about. The Messiah would come, restore the fortunes of Israel, assure the people of God’s love, of his mercy and forgiveness, and assure them that, in spite of everything, they were still God’s chosen people and then they would live happily ever after in the promised land.  

The problem is that what they were expecting to find behind the last window on their Advent calendar was another King David, a warrior king who’d defeat their earthly enemies in battle and establish a new earthly kingdom and dynasty. Instead of which they found a man who said nothing of war but spoke of love and peace, even towards their enemies, a man nailed to a Roman cross, with a crown of thorns on his head. And that was something they didn’t expect to find. It’s not what they were hoping to find. And so is it any wonder that many of them wondered what this had to do with the Messiah they’d been hoping for and expecting for so long, nor that many of them simply couldn’t accept that this was the Messiah?  

As Christians, we have accepted that Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, but even so, we still have a similar problem to that the people of Israel faced. Under the old covenant, God promised Israel that he would be their God and they would be his people, and Israel was promised a land of their own to dwell in. Under the new covenant in Christ’s blood, God is now our God, and we are now his people, and we have been promised eternal life. But this is still a covenant, it’s a deal, and we still have to live up to our side of the deal. Just as Israel was called to live under the commandments of the law to keep their side of the deal they’d made with God, we’re called to keep our side of the deal we have with God by living according to the commandments of Christ. Israel was looking for all the things I’ve mentioned, hope, mercy, forgiveness and so on because they knew that they’d often failed to keep their side of the bargain. 

And I think, in all honesty, we have to admit that we’ve not been much, if any, better at sticking to our side of our bargain with God. So we’re still looking for hope, that things will be better. For love, the assurance that, in spite of all God does still love us. For mercy, that God will be merciful towards us for all the times we’ve failed to live according to Christ’s teaching and example. For forgiveness,  the assurance that, when we fail,  God will give us another chance. We want to be sure that, in spite of all the times we’ve failed to live up to our calling as Christians, God is still our God, and we are still his people. And we want to know all this because we’re still expecting the Messiah. Not to come into the world as the people of Israel did, because we believe that’s already happened, but we’re expecting him to return in glory.  

We could say that, in a sense, we have a new kind of Advent calendar, not one with a window that opens on December the 24th and reveals a star or a baby in a manger, the things associated with the Messiah was at his first coming, but with a window that could open at any time to reveal Christ as he will be when he returns.  

But what do we hope and expect to see when the time comes for that window to be opened? Christ in glory certainly, but what do we hope and expect to see when Christ is revealed as our judge? We might see Christ holding a sword, not the sword of war as the people of Israel hoped and expected, but the sword of justice.  But which way will his sword be pointing? Will it be pointing upward, assuring us of our acquittal and pointing us towards heaven, or will it be pointing towards us in condemnation?  

We must all know in our hearts, to some extent at least, how hard we’ve tried to live up to our side of the covenant we have with God, and we all know to what extent we’ve succeeded and failed in doing that. So while I’m sure we’re all hoping to see Christ’s sword of justice pointing our way to heaven, we must also know what to expect when we see it. And if we want to be sure that our expectation is going to match our hope, the time to do something about  that is now, because we never know when we’ll have to open that last window on the Advent calendar of Christ’s return.  

Amen. 


Propers for Advent 1, 30th November 2025

Entrance Antiphon 
To you, I lift up my soul, O my God. 
In you, I have trusted; let me not be put to shame. 
Nor let my enemies exult over me; 
and let none who hope in you be put to shame. 

The Collect 
Grant your faithful, we pray, almighty God, 
the resolve to run forth to meet your Christ with righteous deeds at his coming, 
so that, gathered at his right hand, 
they may be worthy to possess the heavenly kingdom. 
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, 
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, 
God, for ever and ever. 
Amen. 

The Readings 
Isaiah 2:1-5  
Psalm 122:1-2, 4-9 
Romans 13:11-14 
Matthew 24:37-44 

Prayer after Communion  
May these mysteries, O Lord, 
in which we have participated, 
profit us, we pray, 
for even now, as we walk amid passing things, 
you teach us by them to love the things of heaven, 
and hold fast to what endures. 
Through Christ our Lord. 
Amen.