My wife, Lisa, reads magazines backwards. She starts at the back cover and flips the pages left to right, beginning with the end, and ending with the beginning. I say, “How can you read the magazine like that? The articles go the other way!” But she just shrugs and goes back to reading he magazine—from finish to start.

That’s peculiar indeed, but I’m willing to ignore it. It’s harmless. And besides, I have my own eccentricities, too. For instance, the supermarkets have had eggnog in their dairy cases for almost a month now. But I won’t buy or drink any until after Thanksgiving. No one else in the house may do so, either. It’s just my rule—to keep from getting sick of it before Christmas time.

Lest you think that these idiosyncrasies have skipped the next generation, my son, Erik, who isn’t here to stop me from telling you this, used to dunk his bologna sandwich in his blue Kool-Aid. Yum! But he enjoyed the combo—and the surprised expressions of those who saw him do this were like frosting on the cake for him.

As for Sarah, my seminarian daughter in law,. all indicators point to her fitting right in with the Teichmann’s, but I won’t talk about her because she’s new and all. That and the fact that she’s the only one who can tell stories on me in her sermons!

What a family! What a family! Thanksgiving brought families like mine together for a great feast this past Thursday. You know, there’s something about Thanksgiving, the effect it has on people—something akin to the full moon, because certain family members can’t help but act out! Last Sunday in Adult Forum we talked about Thanksgiving memories. They were all good memories. But I’m sure each person there could have told another story of somebody doing something weird on Thanksgiving.

Some wise old sage said that “a family is like a tray of fudge—mostly sweet with a few nuts.” Because, truth be told, no family is immune to having their individual or corporate peculiarities. But what are you gonna do? Your Uncle Charlie who plays the harmonica with his nose is admittedly strange. But he’s blood. What’s the old adage, “You can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your relatives.” Ain’t it the truth?!

Bishop Desmond Tutu has a different take on that one, though. He agrees that “You don’t choose your family.” But he goes on to say that, “They are God’s gift to you, as you are to them.” That puts a different light on it. Especially when we realize that this is the relationship that we claim to have as a group of believers gathered together around Jesus Christ.

Look around to your left and right—and look back. We say that these people are our church family. And so, acknowledging our own oddities, and in spite of everyone else’s, we claim each other as kin. We are blood. We are brothers and sisters in Christ.

And when we get together for a meal, as we do each Sunday, there is a wide array of personal preferences, habits, opinions, and tastes. And there is eccentricity—to each his own. But, since we accept what Bishop Tutu said about families as true, our goal is to recognize each other as God’s gift to each other, and to be together in the way that happy, healthy families are. Interested in each other’s joys and concerns, helping each other out in time of extreme need, tending and teaching our children, and passing along the mystery of our faith: Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

Today, as we enter once again into the season of Advent, we focus our attention first on the latter part of that statement of faith, “Christ will come again.” Because Advent, you see, is a lot like my wife’s way of reading a magazine. We start at the end, with the end of the ages, the apocalypse, the culmination of God’s grand plan for salvation and restoration. And four weeks later we arrive at the beginning—with a newborn child, born to a peasant family. A God whose incarnation and destiny were not at all what or when we expected them to be.

And so what we can expect is that the end will be just as surprising as the beginning. Now that makes it difficult to concentrate on “keeping Advent,” especially in this first week. This “not knowing” the time or day that Jesus speaks of rattles us, frustrates us, and makes us prone to skipping over this facet of Advent—wanting to start at the beginning with the tender infant Jesus we know, rather than at the end with ambiguous fig tree timetables and vague references to bridegrooms and wedding feasts.

That would be a mistake—not one that will endanger your immortal soul, but one that would obscure the future orientation of Advent in favor of an historic one. Meaning we would be ignoring the approaching reign of God, focusing instead on preparing for a commemorative birthday party for Jesus. Can you see what you’d be missing?

That’s why Jesus makes such an emphasis on “keeping awake” in today’s gospel. Keep awake, be alert, beware! Our readiness for the in-breaking of the kingdom of God is required of us constantly! As followers of Christ, we are to be always vigilant—even if we don’t know exactly what for. Well, if that be the case—when do we sleep? When do we eat? Are there any potty breaks? This constant vigilance seems impossible for one to maintain.

Exactly. Did you notice that in Jesus’ parable the man going away on a journey leaves the running of things up to his servants, each with his work, and charges the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Those two statements tell us a lot about how we might keep Advent in a way that both respects the coming of Christ and our desire to celebrate the incarnation.

A while back when she was merely First Lady, Hillary Clinton wrote a book based on an African proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child.” The premise was that all of us, as Americans, need to take responsibility in assuring that our children have a good education, adequate healthcare, and safe living conditions. Everyone is responsible—everybody plays a part, every person is accountable.

Jesus’ parable can be seen as espousing the same concept, if you dig a little deeper into it. First, all the servants are placed in charge—each having unique responsibilities—but all working together to protect and grow their master’s property. That is their assignment as to being ready. The doorkeeper, you might think, has a solitary role, noting that the land owner tells him to be on the lookout and not fall asleep. How can he possibly be expected to stay awake day and night until the master returns?

Well, he isn’t. The master tells the doorkeeper to “be on the watch,” which in first century terms meant a system of three time periods throughout the night, each kept by a different watchman. So you see, Jesus wants us to be alert and ready for his coming in the clouds—but he doesn’t expect us to be able to do that alone. The efforts of the whole community, or in this case, the whole household, are needed in order for everyone to remain ready. It takes a church, therefore, to keep Advent. You aren’t expected to keep it alone.

And kind of as a sidebar, I do want to tell you that the judgment at the end of the ages should not be feared, despite the language used to portray it. We shouldn’t think that we’ll be subjected to eternal damnation if we happen to mess up and be found making a sandwich when the Lord comes back. Christ has won a place for you with God that is irrevocable! So don’t worry—keep Advent. As a community of believers—as a church.

What is that like? First of all, we encourage on another not to rush to the beginning of the story—to instead let the end have our full attention. The beginning will come soon enough, there’s no reason to hasten it, and every reason to use this time for anticipating and imagining the new heaven and new earth that lay promised in the future. Quite like drinking milk to maintain good healthy bones, while savoring the thought of sweet eggnog to come!

We can encourage each other to live in that future promise during these four weeks by stepping outside of our culture of consumerism, and setting aside our idol of instant gratification, and instead gather as a the people of God for worship. Our Advent evening prayer services are a great way to do this. Together we lift our voices in song, hear scripture, and a witness. The simplicity of a soup and bread supper provides a template for the time spent in Advent. Sunday worship is also a way to keep Advent as we follow the story from end to beginning via hymns, candles that mark the passage of time, and a focus on the risen Christ and his advent. Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.

Together as a church we keep Advent as the sum total of our individual ministries. We are each called to certain tasks, based on the gifts God has given us, just as the servants in the parable were charged each to his own work. So, together we share in giving gifts to those in need, giving food to those who are hungry through World Hunger. The work of some is in giving of themselves—and as a community we support the work of prison ministry and ministry for the homeless. All that we each do in the name of Christ Jesus, we do as a church—part of tending God’s creation as stewards—encouraging each other and keeping watch by keeping busy.

We keep Advent by just being the church family that we are. Though we fail sometimes to even come close to it, we represent the way people interact in the kingdom of God. We are to be an example of unconditional love for others, care and concern primarily for those in need, and an example of how people can live together peacefully and justly. Now, being the perfect reflection of the kingdom won’t happen this side of the second coming. But if we hold fast to the way of Christ, our churches and fellowships can model for others a humble and authentic community.

Finally, there’s the sandwich dunked in blue koolade. That helps us as a church to keep Advent. Not literally. But as a metaphor for our expectations. What the world expected from Jesus was far different from what they got. They expected God in majesty—they got God in diapers.

What do we expect from Christ’s second coming? Advent is a time for us, together as the church, to dunk our certainty of when, where, who, what, why and witherthereforeto—to drown that certainty in the blue koolade of possibility. To free our minds from preconceived notions of cosmic battles, judgment scenes, and cataclysmic disasters, and revel in the flavor of the possibility that instead of coming in a rush, that the kingdom of heaven is slowly washing over the earth. That justice and mercy are gaining ground in the world, and the glimpses of grace that we observe or co-create are a part of the second coming—which may be being made known even today.

I’m not saying that’s how it’s going down, I’m just saying that part of keeping Advent is rejoicing in the knowledge that our God in Christ Jesus cannot be limited by human expectations, and understanding that his coming will be a pleasant and welcome surprise.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again. Be ready Messiah. Keep Advent. Do Advent. Live Advent. Together. Because it takes all of us. Amen