(Re)learning How to Wait

By Daniel Potter

My mother has many favorite holiday traditions. Some have changed over time. A few remain constant. One of her traditions, in particular, I thought would go away as I got older. It hasn’t. From a young age, as November drifted into December, my mother would always present my brother and I with an advent calendar. These calendars were never fancy. I’d say they were rather traditional: made of cardboard, complete with tear off doors and cardboard-flavored chocolate prizes. Despite the awful aftertaste, the reward triggers an important response, hopeful anticipation. As children grow, and the advent lessons are better instilled, the longing generated by an advent calendar can be translated into expectancy of the birth of the Christ Child. I love that my mother still gifts me with one of these awesome tools each year. It teaches, and re-teaches me how to wait.

Each December, we embark on a new advent journey that leads on to epiphany, Ordinary Time (part 1), Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and Ordinary time (reprise).  Most ministerial types, like myself, claim a particular season as their favorite, pointing to its idiosyncrasies and a particular, personal connection with the message of that season. And, since we have a favorite season, we often skim over the others while waiting for the one we really want.

“I just wish we could get back to Advent because we need peace, hope, joy, and love to surround us.”

“We are so broken and need the Risen Christ to remind us of the depth of God’s love and commitment to us.”

“What if our church really caught Pentecost this year and was REALLY on fire for the Gospel?”

The issues with this line of thinking are obvious. Each season serves a purpose to reveal new insights into God and God’s action in the world. Further, the various seasons ground us between the peaks and valleys of our daily lives. We can neither remain in total celebration, ignoring the suffering present in or lives, nor in total dejection, ignoring the possibilities presented by God through Christ. Rather than leaping between the seasons, it seems that each season, and especially the liminal spaces between, provide room each year for us all to (re)learn how to wait. Much like our ancient ancestors, God’s people continue to (re)learn what it means to wait for the next glimpse of Emmanuel, God with us. Have you ever pondered what the shepherds or Magi thought on their way to visit the Christ child? Or, have you wondered what transpired among Jesus’ disciples in those three dark days?

As a vocational, millennial minister, I’m too familiar with the discussions on generational difference. Further, my work in youth ministry gives me a deeper perspective into the generation that will soon become the church. One critique of millennials, and the generations that follow, is that we are impatient. Thanks to the early 90s tech boom, and encouraged by smartphones and social media in 00s, we never have a dull moment. While waiting for friends, my feeds are a thumbprint away. Extended downtime, like a bus ride to church camp, provides me time to dive into the latest addictive game. I’m not old enough to claim “back in my day” too often, but I do remember growing up in a bag phone, game boy that ran on AA batteries, directions from an atlas, world. More importantly, I remember when the batteries ran out and I had to count mile markers on the highway to fight the boredom. In those moments, the counting helped me to lean into the waiting. In some small way, I appreciated the journey more by focusing on the time spent not yet arriving.

The youth I serve are constantly learning and (re)learning about waiting. They may seek the newest gadget or the next audition. Some certainly long for a response from prospective jobs, colleges, and universities. Others await news about a loved one battling a long term illness. They are not strangers to waiting. Yet, in our hyper-technological, ever bustling society, waiting looks different than in times past. I believe that we as Christians are inevitably a waiting people. In some roundabout way, our busy-bodied nature prepares us for the necessary active hope and love to which Christ calls us. My work as a youth minister, and more broadly the church’s role as the hands and feet of Christ, depends on an ability to teach and reteach the importance of that almost and not yet kingdom. It hinges on our ability to learn and (re)learn how to wait positively, resting in the assurance that God has not forsaken God’s people and spurred to action by that reality. Moreover, we must witness God’s action in our world, heed God’s call to action for each of us, and model for one another the active love that brings forth the new heaven and new earth of which Jesus spoke.

Regardless of the season, we must learn and (re)learn how to wait, not sitting idly by for the divine intervention, but springing forth in loving initiative that greets the new born Christ, the risen savior, and even the God that dwells among us in the most ordinary of times. It isn’t easy to be caught between the impetus and the result. But, I believe God finds us in those moments and challenges us to better embody the servant love Jesus revealed. It seems, then, that we are all constantly waiting and God is constantly in action amid the waiting. So, what are you waiting for?

Daniel Potter currently serves First Baptist Church of Columbus, Ga., as the Minister of Students. He is a past recipient of the Daniel and Earlene Vestal Scholarship and a member of the 2016-2018 CBF Fellows cohort.