1st Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 64:1-9 ~ Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19 ~ 1 Corinthians 1:3-9 ~ Mark 13:24-37

In the chaos of these times, it’s hard to be optimistic about the holidays. With increasing social and political unrest, economic turmoil, war, natural disasters – even the most pious among us struggle for hope. Thankfully, the season of Advent offers us sacred space to confront our doubts and powerlessness. And this passage by the prophet Isaiah reminds us of the power that is within our reach. The prophet’s words all point to a spiritual practice that is sure and immediate, tried and true, a practice that reflects our deepest longing and our greatest hope – that we are not alone.  Isaiah teaches us a prayer of lament. With passion and boldness, the prophet instructs us to cry out to the Lord.

Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down,

    that the mountains would tremble before you!

2 As when fire sets twigs ablaze

    and causes water to boil,

come down to make your name known to your enemies

    and cause the nations to quake before you!

This is not the time to put on our Sunday best and repeat words of tempered worship. There is no need for restraint. Like the prophet, we must express our honest despair, longing for God to tear open the heavens and intervene in a world that has gone out of control. We pray in sadness and desperation, in frustration, and in fear. We pray demanding that God come down and intervene in the affairs of this crazy world…cause the nations to quake before you! 

How often do you just let yourself go with God, pouring out your heart, telling Him what’s really on your mind, honestly, sloppily, with warts and all? Being honest with God means dropping the mask and sharing our most vulnerable pain or anger. God doesn’t want our cliches nor is He impressed with our biblical knowledge.  God wants our hearts. That’s how we grow in Him and in faith. Whether it’s frustration with the state of the world, our own habits, or God’s seeming indifference, following the prophet’s lead, we shouldn’t leave anything out.

…you have hidden your face from us

    and have given us over to our sins.         

Complaining in prayer is not a matter of putting God “in his place.”  It is an act of faith, as long as our complaint is motivated by a desire to draw closer rather than turn away.  Too often we tend to box God in, or even more destructively, out of our lives. We limit our approach separating the things we want God to control from the things we think we control.  We forget that God oversees everything. 

The prophet is bold at the throne of mercy, begging God to break through the heavens, turn from His wrath and stop the madness.

 4 How long, LORD God Almighty,

    will your anger smolder

    against the prayers of your people?

It is easy to turn our daily prayers into a rote ritual, adapting a mindless attitude, repeating the same well-worn words as if God simply checks off a box in hearing our voices.  I am now in my 70’s and it has taken me a lifetime of prayer to understand more clearly how it works for me, enabling me to see my supplication as a big part of my purpose. Our prayers are meant to be our humble offering in an authentic communion with the creator of the universe. Not because God needs it, but because we do. God wants honesty, transparency, and trust.

And trusting God can quiet our spirits. 

Perhaps it was a moment of stillness that led to the prophet Isaiah’s shift from despair to an affirmation of trust. Yet, you are the father. We are the clay and you are the potter. We have all experienced those prayers that started out in rage and somewhere along the way, turned into humble surrender. Bringing our raw and authentic selves to God prevents that lurking bitterness and bile from taking root. It opens the door for real and lasting healing.  And in the process, something else can happen. Taking time for stillness in prayer helps us to prepare a space in our hearts where God can speak. We don’t have to be mystics to hear from God. Guidance may not come immediately or in words or other audible cues, but it can unfold in a greater sense of peace and clarity.  

There are no perfect prayers. And in the midst of the darkness of this broken world, we may not always feel that God is near. But keep praying. Even God’s silence can bless us. The quiet can lead us to align our hearts more closely with God’s. Not my will but thine be done. 


Liz Walker is the founding director of The CAN WE TALK… Network, a nationwide collective of spiritually inspired, community-based, clinically supported programs addressing America’s epidemic of post-traumatic stress and grief through the healing power of sharing personal stories. Reverend Walker took on this healing ministry full-time after retiring as pastor of Roxbury Presbyterian Church in Boston, MA.

Reverend Walker is the author of No One Left Alone: How Community Helps Us Heal.