Thursday, September 17, 2020

Waiting

I've been thinking about waiting. It seems like everyone is waiting for things to go back to normal, waiting for the time when we can return to our regular lives and routines. We're waiting to return to worship and committee meetings and Wednesday night dinners. We're waiting to return to restaurants and movies and concerts. We're waiting for the time when the band can once again march into Neyland Stadium as we sing Rocky Top. We're waiting to visit grandparents and grandchildren and to take that trip that we had been planning that has now been put off. And we're waiting for a vaccine that will help bring all this about.

Waiting is nothing new - we wait all the time. We can wait for things, like a package to arrive, an Uber to pick us up, or the sun to rise. We can wait for people to come to our party, to keep their appointment, to be ready to leave for church. We can wait for events like the concert we have tickets for, the big game on Saturday, for Christmas morning, or for the election.

Sometimes the object of our waiting changes. My wife and I spent a very long time waiting for children, waiting to be parents, waiting to be a family. Now we can't wait for the children to leave and it be just the two of us! (Not really, but kinda really.)

We wait in groups, we wait in lines, we wait in cars, we wait in airports, we wait at restaurants. Wealthy, important people usually don't have to wait as often or as much as other people. They get to go to the front of the line at airport security, get to board and de-board the plane first. In restaurants their table is usually waiting for them, rather than the other way 'round.

Waiting implies that we are at the mercy of someone else. At the grocery store we are at the mercy of the people in line in front of us, especially if they decide to write a check. At banks we are at the mercy of the tellers or loan officers; at Starbucks to baristas; in medical offices and hospitals to doctors and nurses; at the DMV we are at the mercy of bureaucracy itself, but at least they give us a number so we know just how long the wait is going to be.

Sometimes waiting is a good thing. If we wait until we have enough cash to buy the flat screen TV we won't pay the interest that comes with putting it on the card. If we wait for the ball instead of swinging too early we are more likely to make it to base. We should wait until marriage to have sex, and we should wait to get married. (I'm hoping my kids read this blog!)

Sometimes we get to wait in a very special place known as a waiting room. It's a whole separate room where we can be with other people who are waiting just like us. While there, we can play the Waiting Game, which consists of trying to guess which one of us will get to end their wait next!

Sometimes waiting is hard, especially if you have nothing to do while waiting. I am convinced that this is the best thing about smart phones. Now we can read or watch TV or play silly little games crushing candies and finding words to pass the time while we wait.

Waiting is more difficult for some than it is for others. Children find it difficult to wait for summer vacation, for adults to finish their conversation, for Christmas morning, and for birthdays, the most important ones being 10, 13, 16, 18 and 21. After that we stop waiting for birthdays.

Paul Tillich said that waiting was a metaphor for faith because waiting is always linked to hope. Sometimes, however, we wait when there seems to be no hope. We wait for world peace. We wait for everyone to be kind. We wait for justice and equal opportunity for all. We wait for the day when our college loans or credit cards are paid off. We wait for our wives to get ready. (I'm hoping my wife doesn't read this blog!)

Some people are so good at waiting that they become professional waiters. The really good ones can make quite a bit of money. Some professions require more waiting than others. Artists have to wait for the paint to dry or the clay to be ready. Scientists must wait for the test results. Writers must wait for inspiration. Farmers probably wait the most. They have to wait for the seeds to sprout and the harvest to ripen. But they usually find something to do while waiting.

Preachers are like farmers. We sow seeds and wait. And wait. And wait. We prepare the soil, water the soil, nourish the soil, and wait for the seeds to sprout. We wait for signs of growth, for signs that fruit is being borne. Sometimes when the fruit is finally borne, however, we aren't there to see it. It can be frustrating, but we learn the art of the deep breath and the cleansing sigh and how to wait upon the Lord.

Waiting is hard work and humble work because waiting is the work of self-denial. It is the admission that we are not the center of the universe, that the world does not revolve around us. The one who waits is the one who has been put in his or her place.

Clearly, waiting is a skill that God urges us to develop:

  • Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the Lord. (Psalm 27:14)
  • The Lord is good to those who wait for him. (Lamentations 3:25; see also Psalm 37:9; Psalm 130 5-6; Psalm 37:7-9)
  • Those who wait on the Lord will find their strength renewed in the Lord. (Isaiah 40:31)

We have even built periods into the liturgical year that focus on waiting. Advent and Lent are the periods before the two major Christian festivals when we are to look inward, confess our own selfishness, be patient, think of others, and ask ourselves what God wants us to learn as we wait for his coming (Christmas) or for his sacrifice (Easter).

So perhaps we should approach this time that we are in, this period of waiting, more like we do those times. Perhaps we should look at this season as a gift from God to discover something important and essential about what it means to be human. Perhaps we should be a little more patient, a little more introspective, a little less self-centered, a little more focused on others, and seek to discover what God wants us to learn. 

Perhaps we need to wait some more, even though we may be weary. Even though it may be difficult. Perhaps if we simply seek to pass through all of this in hasty expectation of a return to normal, we are missing the fundamental point of the whole ordeal. 

This doesn't mean there is no hope. Hope is what keeps us waiting. 

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