Waiting Room

2 Thessalonians 2:13-3:5

My son and I have a morning tradition. As I drive him to his high school he gets to pick the songs we listen to off of my iPod. This morning he choose one of his favorite bands, one with the odd name Death Cab for Cutie. The song was “What Sarah Said.” As I drove along, the lyrics oozed through my morning malaise.

“'Cause there's no comfort in the waiting room

Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news.”

“What did he say?” I asked my son. He repeated the lines for me.

Comfort. That and joy are supposed to be among the end results of Advent, which is, after all, a sort of temporal waiting room. “Joy to the world.” “Comfort, comfort my people.” “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” But when I look around I think I see “nervous pacers bracing for bad news.” We pile on the stress. The anticipation that builds is too often about worldly concerns. When Christmas ends we are almost relieved because we can get back to our daily lives with their “real concerns.”

Paul wishes something better for us. “Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word” (2 Thessalonians 2:16-17). Paul wants our “waiting rooms” to be places where we expect good news of great joy, where we are sustained for the living of these days and do not become fixated on the weariness of life.

For my part, I’m going to hold Paul and Death Cab for Cutie side by side, allowing the tension between the two to help me make better decisions and to look ahead with greater clarity this Advent and beyond.

Prayer: Lord, may your comfort overwhelm your people and may your good news permeate our lives. Amen.