Jeremiah 33:14-16 Advent Prose 1 Thessalonians 3:9-13 Luke 21:25-38
Very occasionally I have a solid idea for my sermon on a Thursday. Even more rare is it that I have actual words on the page before my day off on a Friday. This week, I thought I had both. It was almost finished. I’d made the decision to preach on the Old Testament readings through Advent. Just after 5pm, I sent off a last-minute email and my day off was about to begin…and then the phone rang. And less than 45 minutes later, life at the rectory was pretty significantly changed, and my sermon draft with it.
The book of Jeremiah is full of messages of judgment, and promise. Each of his promises from God point to a new world, where justice, righteousness, and peace reign. Jeremiah speaks these words, from his prison cell, to a people who have been torn apart by war, injustice, and exile. They have lost their homes, their city, their temple. He has lost his freedom. And they are longing for a way out, for restoration, for hope. In their suffering, God gives them a promise that reaches towards a future reality: “The days are surely coming…”
God promises that a day is coming when all things will be right. Justice will be restored, broken systems will be healed and a society will be established where everyone can live with dignity and safety. God is promising to bring forth a righteous Branch—one who will do what is just and right in the land. This is not a distant, abstract concept; it is concrete and urgent. The idea of a righteous ruler in the tradition of David is about political and social justice; one who would lift the oppressed and protect the vulnerable.
As Christians we dare to believe that Jesus is the fulfilment of this prophecy. But more than that, we might make the audacious claim that we have a part to play in its fulfilment too; that we, more than 2000 years after this was fulfilled in Christ, must give our lives to create justice, challenge oppression, speak a language of respect and kindness, call for peace, bring healing to the planet and to those who suffer most. We hear Jeremiah’s prophesy, see it’s fulfilment in Christ and STILL hear a call to action for us; a call to engage in the work of holy justice, now. And if we hear it that way, what might that look like? What might that demand of us?…
And that was about as far as I got, by Thursday evening.
I thought it was fine, y’know. But who wants to hear ‘fine’? Who wants to follow a God who is fine?! I didn’t really want to preach something fine. But then the phone rang.
It was quarter past 5, on Thursday evening, and it was a number I didn’t know. The woman introduced herself as working for the department of child protection. Craig and I have had a few fleeting interactions with DCP because we occasionally provide respite care for one child. We aren’t approved to do more than that. The woman knew her request was a longshot, but she wondered if we might have room for 2 brothers to stay for that night. All other avenues had been exhausted.
You have heard me, over and over, make grand calls for action; but I was terrified! Anyway, we said yes, and we said yes again ten minutes later when they called back to ask if we could make space for their baby sister too.
And in the middle of nappies and escape attempts and cooking experiments and horrendous stories of neglect and abuse unfolding in front of us, there were times where I could pause and observe long enough to realise this is what the work of executing justice and righteousness really is. And our call in the rectory might be different from yours, but this is what it looks like for the baby sister, right now.
We follow a God who’s name is Righteousness and what could be more right-making than restoring hope where it has been lost, and planting it where it has never been known.
And our first advent candle is the one we light for Hope.
Hope sees the police raid a tent, to rescue three small children so a bright future might still be possible (it’s not just possible, it’s on its way, maybe).
Hope sees an imprisoned prophet promise days are surely coming where justice and righteousness will be clear and present.
And get this, Hope sees a young family bring their child for baptism because perhaps they are looking for a way back to church…and when they randomly select this day, they choose Hope Sunday…and their baby is named Paige Hope.
This God of righteousness and hope is a tricky customer, a radical saviour, a holy fulfiller of ancient prophesies, and we are still being called and drawn and trusted to be the hands and feet that deliver hope and righteousness to the world, today.
In this generation, we see communities torn apart by violence, racial injustice, inequality, and environmental degradation. Families struggle to make ends meet, and marginalized groups fight for basic rights and recognition. The promise of God’s justice is that these things will not have the last word. God’s vision, God’s HOPE, is that safety is not a privilege for a few but a right for all.
So as we reflect on these words from Jeremiah, we are reminded that God’s promises of restoration and justice are not abstract ideas—they are concrete, and urgent. And some of them will be brought about by us. Some of them can only be brought about by us, even. We are the ones who are called to embody the justice and righteousness of Christ in every area of life.
Let us be a community that continues to make present the vision of God’s Kingdom for all, and when that feels overwhelming and impossible, may we heed the advice of Mother Teresa, who famously says, “Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you.”
Amen.
Holy Adventures 