Isaiah 2:1-5, Psalm 122, Romans 13:11-14 and Matthew 24:36-44

Throughout the fall, our Sunday worship walked through the gospel of Luke as we sought to make the story of Jesus’ life and ministry – his story, our story. Last Sunday, Becky Sechrist’s sermon ended that season of Pentecost with the scripture passage on the crucifixion and death of Christ. Today, the very next week, all four of the lectionary readings (which are incorporated into our service) anticipate the new birth of a Messiah. Staring down death and then pausing long enough to ready ourselves for a new birth…that’s a curious juxtaposition – an awkward transition; and yet real nonetheless.

How many times are we faced with the death of a loved one, the death of a job, the death of a tradition, the death of a friendship, the death of a dream…and the harder we cling and grasp, the more angry and anxious we become? Sometimes stepping back, taking a breath, beginning with a pause, gives us a fresh perspective that opens our eyes and mind and heart to new births and possibilities.

L___, a member of our congregation has been teaching me about the power in such a pause and has given me permission to share with you part of his story. Just ten months ago he was a radiologist at the peak of his career with a loving family, beautiful home, good health and now he’s in home hospice care overcome with cancer. In the past few weeks, he’s been directly staring death in the face; intellectually wrestling with fervor despite a body that is physically depleted. He longs for the peace that will come when he can trust that death is but a path to a new birth into everlasting life.

But in this in between time, L___ has become content to begin this final phase of his journey with a pause. He has paused to have quiet conversations with friends, he has paused to sit on the couch and listen to good music while staring at the fireplace, he has paused to write love letters to his two grown children to be opened after his passing, he has paused to reminisce with his beloved wife and literally list blessings that they have cherished together… L___ said to me this past Thursday, “After the full and busy life I’ve often lived, it’s interesting that now that I can’t even eat solid foods anymore, I find my day worthwhile if I can simply sit and enjoy a couple cups of tea.”

Would that we all sought to find our way through life as well as death, by beginning with a pause. Rather than running to fill our lives with more clutter, we pause to become comfortable with more space. On the threshold of this Advent season, may this time of worship and sacrament this morning provide just such a pause. Pause to encounter God at the rail, pause on your walk to and from the rail to offer a silent sentence prayer for some person you pass, pause in your seat to ponder the question, “What do I need to let die in my life in order to have space to embrace a new birth?” Perhaps in the silence of our pauses, God has the best chance to be heard…