Not Without You--September 29, 2021

Not Without You--September 29, 2021

"Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect." [Hebrews 11:39-40]

A true confession: reading these two verses literally brought a tear to my eyes that I was not expecting. I was brought up short by the idea that God held off on giving all those ancestors in the faith all that they were waiting for, until we could be a part of the celebration, too.  God waited to start the party because, from God's vantage point, the party wouldn't be the same without us.

I'll bet you know what it's like, how good it is for your soul, to have someone wait for you.  When you get home late from work and find that the rest of the family chose to wait so that you could eat with them, or when you show up at the movie theater, running behind, and find that your friend is sitting outside the box office, so that you can go in together, rather than stumbling into the dark alone and looking for them.  Or when everyone waits to open presents on Christmas morning until Grandma and Grandpa arrive, so that they won't miss out on the festivities. It is a beautiful thing to know that someone could have begun something good before you got there, but they waited, because they didn't want to experience it without you.

It's in some ways such a simple gesture, being waited for--all it requires is the other person to stay still and hold on for a while.  And yet, if you are the one who has had to exercise the self-control of waiting to eat your dinner until the server comes with everybody else's entrees, or if you are the one who has to sit quietly while all those presents under the tree are just beckoning to be torn open, you know it can be quite difficult to wait for someone else, even for a little while.

Now imagine we are talking, not about that first bite of lasagna while your dinner companion is still waiting for their chicken parmigiana, or the self-restraint to leave the stockings on the mantel until everyone is awake and gathered around the fire, but that we're talking about the joy of new creation and life beyond the grip of death.  Now imagine we are talking about abundant life in God's presence, where our tears are wiped away and nobody goes hungry or gets bullied.  Wouldn't you think you'd do just about anything to get to that right away? Wouldn't you want to do whatever it would take to make that happen immediately?  Like that old line from When Harry Met Sally... goes, "When you find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to begin as soon as possible."  Right?  

But that's just it--as far as God is concerned, God didn't want to leave us out.  God doesn't want to start the party before we have the chance to be there.  God doesn't want to start giving out the gifts if it's without you being around the hearth there, too.  It's like that gorgeous line from the OkGo song, "Last Leaf," which goes, "If you should be the last autumn leaf, hanging from the tree, I'll still be here, waiting on the breeze, to bring you down to me--and if it takes forever, forever it'll be."  God didn't just end history with those ancestors in the faith because we wouldn't have been in the picture yet--God didn't want to leave you out.  Or me.  Or, look around--anybody else.

I wonder how it would change our understanding of the faith if we started from that position: what if we saw Christianity, not as this closed club of holy people who were good enough to get in while we keep out the riff-raff (whoever it is we don't want to be there), but as the promise that God held off on starting the banquet because the party wouldn't have been the same without us, and God is willing to wait for us?  How does it change the way you see yourself to know that God thinks you are worth waiting for?  How does it change the way you see other people, even the ones you don't like or who are different from you, to know that God wants them at the party, too?

Well, let's start there:  you are worth waiting for.  You are so loved that God was willing to hold up everything else until you came along.  And God has taught all those other generations of saints and sojourners the same patience, too.  Along with Abraham and Sarah, Moses and Miriam, all the long-suffering prophets, your first grade Sunday School teacher, and the kind-hearted woman from church who used to let you call her Grandma or Aunty, all those ancestors in the faith looked forward to getting to be at God's grand party... but not without you.

This is how you are loved.  Go tell someone else you know who needs to hear it that they are, too.

Lord God, help us to see ourselves, and everyone around us, as people you think are worth waiting for.