Psalm 118:26
Today we are entering the season of Advent. The word “advent” comes from the Latin language, and means “coming.” It refers to the coming of Christ.
On the first Palm Sunday, which we heard about in today’s Gospel from St. Matthew, one of the exclamations that the crowds called out to Jesus as he entered the city of Jerusalem, was:
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”
We chant these words also in the Communion Liturgy, as we prepared for, and welcome, the coming of Christ in his Holy Sacrament.
This line comes from Psalm 118. The phrase “he who comes” in our English versions of Psalm 118, and of the New Testament books that quote this line, is a translation of just one word in the original Hebrew and Greek: “bo” in Hebrew; “erchomai” in Greek.
The “coming” of Jesus is not incidental to who he is as the incarnate Son of God. We would not say that his status as Messiah in unaffected by whether he comes or stays in a distant place, because in the biblical scheme, there is no such thing as a Messiah who doesn’t come.
Jesus doesn’t just exist in a stationary position, still and unmoving. In his office and calling as the Christ of God, he is always the coming one. He is always “on the move,” as it were, toward us.
The God of Israel in general, is a God who comes to humanity. This is an important point, because the imagined gods of various humanly-devised religions are not gods who are thought to “come” to their devotees in such a way.
The Jehovah’s Witnesses teach that God sent the archangel Michael to earth, to be incarnated as humanity’s Savior. God himself did not come.
Islam teaches that God sent the prophet Muhammad into the world, to teach people how to be submissive to his authority. God himself did not come.
Much of the popular spirituality of our time doesn’t conceive of a God who comes to us, either. Rather, it is we who search for God, who rise up to God, and who come to God.
But the only God who actually exists, is not a God who stays in place, waiting for us to come to him. He is not a God who limits himself to sending intermediaries to us, while he remains remote and distant.
The God of Israel comes to us. And Jesus, as the Son of God and the son of David, comes to us.
The question of whether God, in effect, stays where he is, or comes to us, is, however, not the only question to be asked. We also need to ask why he is coming.
What is the purpose of his movement toward us? What is he going to do when he gets here?
The Tim Burton movie “Mars Attacks” is a humorous and silly film. But even with its silliness, it can teach us a couple things.
In the film, after the Martians had arrived, but while they were still in orbit around the earth, the somewhat spacey “New Age” character “Barbara,” played by Annette Bening, was excited and gleeful over their appearance. She exclaimed:
“The Martians heard our global common call for help. … I think they’ve come to show us the way.”
In her naivete, she could not imagine that these extraterrestrial visitors had actually come to bring destruction and death. But if you’ve ever seen this film, you know how wrong she was.
In regard to the coming of God – which is reality, and not the stuff of comedic science fiction movies – should we be like the “Barbara” character, and simply assume that the Lord’s various comings among us will always be pleasant and happy occasions for all concerned? When the Lord appeared to Moses in the burning bush, he said this:
“I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. … I have surely seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt, and have heard their cry because of their taskmasters. I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them out of the hand of the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey.”
This coming of God to the people of Israel would be a good thing – for the people of Israel. God was coming to deliver them from slavery in Egypt, and to bring them to their own country.
But what would the Lord’s coming be like for the Egyptians, who would suffer from many plagues, and whose army would be drowned in the sea, before this was all over? And what would the Lord’s coming be like for the Canaanites, who were then living in the promised land, and who at God’s command would be either killed or expelled when the Israelites entered that land?
As you consider the various ways in which God may come to you, will you encounter him in the way that the Israelites encountered him, to your blessing and salvation? Or will you encounter him in the way that the Egyptians and Canaanites encountered him, to your judgment and destruction?
Sometimes God comes to bring his salvation and deliverance. And sometimes he doesn’t. The Prophet Isaiah says:
“For behold, the Lord is coming out from his place to punish the inhabitants of the earth for their iniquity, and the earth will disclose the blood shed on it, and will no more cover its slain.”
The theme of Jesus “coming” to the world, and of his coming to us, is a recurring theme in Scripture. His comings are repeated, deepened, and compounded, as the sequence of his comings progressively moves forward to his final coming again on the Last Day, to judge the living and the dead.
In the season of Advent – serving as it does as a preparation for Christmas – we think chiefly of Christ’s first coming, in Bethlehem. The eternal Son of the Father – the Second Person of the Holy Trinity – came down from heaven, and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary, and was made man.
But during this season we also think of the other comings of Christ: his past and future comings, in history and at the end of history; and his comings among us now, in his law and in his gospel. And we say now, as the church will say for as long as this world endures:
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”
Jesus is indeed blessed as he comes. He is blessed by his Father in heaven, as he fulfills his Father’s will on earth. And he is blessed, and praised, by those who in faith receive him into their midst.
But does this blessed one come so that you too will be blessed through him? Or does he come to curse and punish you? It is not simply a rhetorical question that we ask, when we sing the hymn:
“O Lord, how shall I meet thee, how welcome thee aright?”
How indeed?
When Jesus was on trial, he said to Pontius Pilate:
“For this purpose I was born, and for this purpose I have come into the world – to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.”
And the truthful voice of Christ is saying to you right now, as St. Luke quotes him:
“I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.”
Are you listening? Are you repenting?
If you admit that you are a sinner – if you look around yourself, and see the people you have hurt; if you consider the promises you have broken, and the obligations you have neglected – then you are partly ready to meet Christ, as he comes to you.
But the Lord does not come just to make sinners admit that they are sinners. He doesn’t come simply to put us into a state of despair.
As Jesus says, he has come to call sinners “to repentance.” Jesus comes to you, to call you to regret your sins, to renounce your sins, and to turn away from your sins.
Now, if you do not heed his voice and repent, that doesn’t mean he will not come. He will still come. That’s what the God of Israel, and the Messiah of Israel, does. He comes.
But he will come to judge, and not to pardon. He will come to condemn, and not to save. And so, please do listen to him.
And listen to what his beloved disciple John writes in his First Epistle. Listen now, during Advent. And listen always, in all times and seasons:
“If we say we have fellowship with [God] while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
Jesus himself says:
“I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness.”
He also says – of himself – that
“The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”
If you confess your sins, Jesus comes to you in the name of the Lord to forgive your sins, and to cleanse you from all unrighteousness. He comes in his liberating and life-giving Word. He comes in the sacrament of his body and blood, given and shed for the remission of sins.
And when he comes, you welcome him:
“Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”
He comes, and he comes again. And when he comes, you are clean. Your peace and fellowship with God are renewed and restored.
Blessed is he who comes, to bring God’s blessing to you: to set you free from bondage to sin, and from the devil’s captivity.
Blessed is he who comes, to bless you with the promise of a new homeland: an eternal dwelling place with God in the heavens.
Blessed is he who comes, to live and abide with you now, as your companion and friend; your teacher and guide; your guardian and protector.
Jesus says:
“I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”
He came, and he comes now – in this Advent season, and in all times and seasons – that you may have life in the midst of death; hope in the midst of despair; light in the midst of darkness.
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Amen.