But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day. The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance.
But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed. Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set ablaze and dissolved, and the elements will melt with fire?
But, in accordance with his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home. Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish; and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation. (2 Peter 3:8–15a)
This is one of the appointed texts for this upcoming Sunday, the second Sunday in Advent. As we read through it in Bible study this morning, I felt my eyes widen. How have I managed to miss this text for so many years? I'm sure I've heard it before, but I have no recollection of it.
As people of faith, we live in hope and expectation of Christ's return to earth. We trust God's promise of the new heavens and new earth coming down and God making his home among mortals. One of the struggles of our life of faith, however, is making sense of (or making peace with!) the gap between promise and fulfillment; not just the gap between Christ's ascension (in the past) and his return (in the future), but also the gap between prayers offered and prayers answered, and the gap between calling on God and hearing God's response. We try to explain away our faithful but impatient waiting by talking of the mystery of God, and talking in vague terms about "God's timing" and "God having a purpose" and "everything being revealed in due season."
We try to make sense of our waiting by holding fast to the end, as if our waiting will be sanctified by Christ's return or by answers to our prayers. But this reading from 2 Peter brings us a fresh understanding of waiting and patience.
Hear those words of good news: "The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance."
Advent is a season of waiting. We take heart during our waiting because we know the promise for which we wait: the in-breaking of Christ, God-with-us, into our midst. But maybe Advent isn't just a season of waiting for something. Maybe Advent is also about the waiting itself. Maybe it is about learning to be patient with God because God is being patient with us. Maybe it is about not rushing to Christ's birth, not rushing to Christ's second coming, not rushing into the light, but instead looking for the promises of God even in the dark, even in the waiting, even in the uncertain times.
Perhaps the hope of our faith is not just that God will one day revive and restore all that has been broken. Perhaps the hope of our faith is that even now, God is working his purposes in this world, and working out salvation in our midst, and keeping an eye out for the lost and the lonely, and giving this world a fighting chance to learn hope and faith and love. We do the work of waiting for Christ precisely for the sake of our brothers and sisters and all creation. We watch and wait in solidarity with all this groaning world, trusting that God's slowness is actually patience, as he longs to bring all people and all things into his embrace.
2 Peter says, "regard the patience of our Lord as salvation."
Hear the good news, my friends. Salvation is not merely the prize at the end of our waiting days. Our waiting itself is our salvation. Our patience itself is our resurrection. We wait for the Lord, and the Lord waits for us. Blessings on all of your Advent waiting. May you seek the coming of Christ with hope and anticipation, and may you find strength and life in this in-between time.
But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed. Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set ablaze and dissolved, and the elements will melt with fire?
But, in accordance with his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home. Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish; and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation. (2 Peter 3:8–15a)
This is one of the appointed texts for this upcoming Sunday, the second Sunday in Advent. As we read through it in Bible study this morning, I felt my eyes widen. How have I managed to miss this text for so many years? I'm sure I've heard it before, but I have no recollection of it.
As people of faith, we live in hope and expectation of Christ's return to earth. We trust God's promise of the new heavens and new earth coming down and God making his home among mortals. One of the struggles of our life of faith, however, is making sense of (or making peace with!) the gap between promise and fulfillment; not just the gap between Christ's ascension (in the past) and his return (in the future), but also the gap between prayers offered and prayers answered, and the gap between calling on God and hearing God's response. We try to explain away our faithful but impatient waiting by talking of the mystery of God, and talking in vague terms about "God's timing" and "God having a purpose" and "everything being revealed in due season."
We try to make sense of our waiting by holding fast to the end, as if our waiting will be sanctified by Christ's return or by answers to our prayers. But this reading from 2 Peter brings us a fresh understanding of waiting and patience.
Hear those words of good news: "The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance."
Advent is a season of waiting. We take heart during our waiting because we know the promise for which we wait: the in-breaking of Christ, God-with-us, into our midst. But maybe Advent isn't just a season of waiting for something. Maybe Advent is also about the waiting itself. Maybe it is about learning to be patient with God because God is being patient with us. Maybe it is about not rushing to Christ's birth, not rushing to Christ's second coming, not rushing into the light, but instead looking for the promises of God even in the dark, even in the waiting, even in the uncertain times.
Perhaps the hope of our faith is not just that God will one day revive and restore all that has been broken. Perhaps the hope of our faith is that even now, God is working his purposes in this world, and working out salvation in our midst, and keeping an eye out for the lost and the lonely, and giving this world a fighting chance to learn hope and faith and love. We do the work of waiting for Christ precisely for the sake of our brothers and sisters and all creation. We watch and wait in solidarity with all this groaning world, trusting that God's slowness is actually patience, as he longs to bring all people and all things into his embrace.
2 Peter says, "regard the patience of our Lord as salvation."
Hear the good news, my friends. Salvation is not merely the prize at the end of our waiting days. Our waiting itself is our salvation. Our patience itself is our resurrection. We wait for the Lord, and the Lord waits for us. Blessings on all of your Advent waiting. May you seek the coming of Christ with hope and anticipation, and may you find strength and life in this in-between time.