The season of Advent is upon us. The church has been decorated, the Advent wreath is lit, and there is that familiar excitement in the air as we begin the march toward Christmas. Advent is the time of anticipating, awaiting, and rejoicing in the coming of our Lord. Now, the arrival of God is no small thing. It is the proverbial line drawn in the sand. For some, for the arrogant and stiff-necked, the coming of God may be faced with fear and terror. After all, there is no hiding from God, no way you can cover your sin or hide your shame. But for the repentant, for the poor in spirit, the empty-handed beggars, the same coming of God may be like a light shining in the darkness, a hope at the end of a bitter storm. It is nothing less than salvation itself.
Therefore, it is fitting that the first Sunday of the Advent season features the arrival of Jesus triumphantly riding into Jerusalem. It is rich with the emotions of the season. There is celebration, anticipation, and a cry for salvation itself. It is an event which cannot be ignored, as our King rides into the city of Jerusalem. It is the fulfilment of prophecy: “Behold your King is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey.” The Christ rides in with great fanfare and celebration. The crowd going before him began to spread their cloaks on the ground, creating a red-carpet treatment for the arriving royalty. Others cut palm branches and spread them out. The excitement is palpable. In fact, the text says the whole city was stirred up by the arrival of our Lord.
And rightly so, this is something to celebrate. Of course, these days, it is common for Christians to grow weary of the over-commercialization of the season. We easily find ourselves lamenting that the reason for the season has been misplaced, or at least the focus has shifted, from the coming of Christ to a consumer-driven desire to buy more things. But, perhaps, we need to relax a bit. On Friday, I went downtown to write my sermon at this little coffee shop I like. I usually sit in the back corner where I can watch people walk by through the large windows at the front. But as I walked down Main Street, I found myself smiling at all the decorations that had gone up. There were garlands wrapping the streetlights, Christmas trees in every window, lights, wreaths, and bright, red bows everywhere I looked. They may not all be people rejoicing in the coming of Christ, but it is evident that, all these years later, the whole city still gets stirred up.
“Behold, your King is coming to you,” the prophet wrote. This is not just a king but your King. So, you have more cause than any to join in the celebration. He is a king unlike any other, a king who charges first into the battle, a king who takes into Himself all the opposition of the enemy forces, all the hate and suffering. Jesus is a king who shocks the world by coming as a lowly servant. For He does not come as a warrior of temporal oppression, He comes to defeat your sin and self-righteousness, your glory-seeking and pride. He is the King of an eternal Kingdom.
Listen, again, to what the crowd was shouting as Jesus rode into the city. They said, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” Hosanna is one of those few words in our Bibles which is transliterated rather than translated into English. The other two are “Amen” and “Alleluia.” Amen means, “So be it” or “truly,” and Alleluia means, “Praise the Lord.” But Hosanna is different. Hosanna means, “Save us now.” This is what the crowds are shouting as He rides into Jerusalem. They are asking the King to save them now, pleading for salvation from Heaven itself. It is a salvation that comes through this one riding on a donkey. And this is precisely what the Christ arrives in their midst to do. He comes to save, to save from sin, death, and the Devil. He does what we could never do.
So, we celebrate. In fact, we celebrate because not only did our King come to save, but he will come again in glory. He will come to usher in a yet more glorious day, a day of eternal life and celebration. We celebrate as we look back to the one born of Mary, the one who rode into Jerusalem, the one who bore your sins to the cross of Calvary. We celebrate that salvation came from Heaven. But we also look forward. We look forward to the promised return of the King. On that day, He will bring an end to the sin that entangles you, the temptations that divert your attention and confuse your minds. He will come to end the tyranny of the grave as sorrow and tears become distant memories.
The advent of God is truly a cause for celebration. But His advent is more than in a manger in Bethlehem, on a cross, and through an empty tomb. It is more than coming as the King of kings in power and glory on the last day. For your God advents with you, even now. He comes in Word and Sacrament, bringing His salvation here and now. God comes to claim you as His own in the waters of Holy Baptism. There, all that is yours, all your sin and rebellion, all your failure and shame, He takes as His own, and in exchange, He gives you all that is His. He gives you His righteousness and faithful obedience. He clothes you with Himself so that in Christ you might hear the Father say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
Jesus comes in the proclamation of the Word and in the forgiveness of your sins. He promises you that where two or three are gathered, there He is in the midst of them. He is here in your fellowship. He is here when repentant sinners confess their failings. He is here when the Word of forgiveness rings in their ears. This, too, is the advent of your God, the gift found in the voice of another. And if that were not enough, today, we will gather around this altar and come to yet another promise. That here, in, with and under the bread and wine, our God advents with us. Here your Savior comes. The very body broken for you, the blood shed for you, comes to you. He comes riding triumphantly into your life to strengthen you and encourage you, promising that you are not alone, you are not forgotten, you are loved, and you are forgiven.
“Behold, your King is coming to you.” Let us rejoice. Let us celebrate His arrival.
