Perennials and Advent Waiting 

I am amazed by Perennials.  The 1000’s of varieties of plants and flowers that each winter lose their leaves and apparently die, only to spring forth anew as the ground thaws, the temperature warms and the rains come. 

Some perennials have stems that remain as their leaves drop.  But the ones that amaze me most are the ones that seem to completely die off.  Nothing remains above ground of the plant that thrived all spring, summer and fall.  There is no sign of its life... but hidden, underneath the ground, while winter winds howl and the ground freezes hard, there is life.  With the roots diving deeper the plant will come back next spring bigger, bushier, brighter.  

2020 has been a “winter” of epic proportions.  The pandemic and all the challenges it has brought along with it has ravaged the landscape of our lives.  Some of you have lost family members and friends near and far.  And all of us have lost the closeness of hugs, high fives, and community.  We miss what seemed like simple gifts of congregational singing, potlucks, family gatherings and kids playing tackle and wrestling with their friends. Only now do we recognize how precious such things are.  

In true Advent fashion we are waiting.  Longing for their return.  Maybe for you, like me, that waiting is also mixed with fear.  We are afraid that what the pandemic has brought to an end will never come back.  That what a virus has stopped will be no more.  Afraid that somehow we and our world has been broken beyond repair, forsaken by the creator, abandoned by our ABA Father.  

Advent reminds us of a power greater than that of perennial flowers.  That what is at work in the world and in our lives is the very power of God.  The same Spirit who rescued Israel from Egypt with terrible plagues, divided the red sea, brought down the walls of Jericho and  raised Jesus from the dead.  The same Savior who time and time again through out world history and our personal histories has brought resurrection and new life.  Who promises us and demonstrates to us “Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.”

After this winter will come spring.  

Is this not the promise of Advent on a macro scale in the coming of King Jesus?  A promise that plays out in the life of every man, woman and child who follows Him.  

How will it play out in my life and yours?  In our country and world?   

We don’t know.  But we wait in advent expectation fighting the fear that doubts spring’s coming and the resurrection.  Instead we embrace God’s work under the surface of our lives and our world during the winter.  

I’ve been thinking about this in one way related to ministry that maybe reflects a broader pattern.  

Our ministry has been sorely missing our gatherings that happened every other month.  Albanian food overflowed the tables, embraces were strong, conversations were loud and the kids playing was even louder.  These moments demonstrated the love and gifts of God in all the senses. 

The pandemic has killed those gatherings.   Though I have in various ways tried to recreate and replicate them as we all know by now, it is irreplaceable.  

That beautiful perennial is now dormant, dead as long as this winter holds its sway.  

In reality, this is truly something for me to grieve and lament.  Its death hurts.  But as I sit with it and come to terms with this winter I am also learning to embrace what it does hold out to me.  You see, the present ending of such an event has not been the ending of God at work.  The absence of physical touch has not been the absence of the Spirit’s touch.  

I think specifically of two ways God is at work during this Advent waiting.  

First of all he is at work underneath the surface of our lives transforming us.   As our running is slowed, our securities shaken and our futures threatened we are forced to realize how powerless we are, how little control we truly have and how much every thing depends on God.  Whether that be our every breath, our jobs or the ministry we engage in.  

Wrestling with fear, grief, lament and loss open for us the opportunity to meet God in new and deep ways.   Our roots are growing deeper.  This has been happening in my life and I trust in yours as well.  

Secondly, even as one door closes, God opens plenty more.  Maybe not the ones we expect or are drawn to or first think of.   In our ministry as the large group gatherings have gone dormant, the one on one and small group opportunities have blossomed.   The opportunity to invest time and energy into the Albanian believers who help lead the ministry has been very fruitful.  It has also opened the door for me to invest more directly in various Albanians who are not yet believers but some how are connected to our ministry.   Shaken by the pandemic and looking for social connection, a large handful of them have been eager to engage the Gospel.  

Sarim is a great example.  Before the pandemic he was my 70 year old ESL student.  We had a good relationship that was growing, but as ESL went dormant a new kind of relationship began.   Sarim jumped at the opportunity to learn how to use Zoom and began taking part in all our activities - Bible studies, thematic gatherings, book clubs.  He has been devouring everything along the way and it is a marvel to watch God at work.  

Or there is the example of Vatra, the Albanian senior center.  Ministry there went dormant for a good 6 months as the center closed and then only began operating with a smaller group and restrictions on visitors.  But then in October I was asked to help them with a memorial service for 5 of their members who had passed away.  And two weeks ago I began creating a weekly video message for them to show at the center.   In the loss of my normal physical presence there, God has opened other doors wide open. 

And so I am encouraged to wait on God even as Advent reminds us.  He is still at work, still ruling the world, and still our heavenly Father who will never leave us or forsake us but rather, through us, will continue to build his Kingdom.  Because even in the dormancy of these winter days, the resurrection power of the Spirit is just waiting to burst forth.   Something infinitely more powerful and beautiful than a perennial.