(Im)patiently Waiting for God: An Advent Reflection on 2 Peter 3:8-15

These days there are few more brightly archetypal images than that of the a child sitting under the Christmas tree waiting for the magical moment when they can find out what’s under the wrappings. Anyone who remembers being that child will probably also remember that there’s a fine line between patience and impatience in these moments: Who among us didn’t shake presents to try to guess what’s inside, ‘accidentally’ toy with the tape to see if it would lift, or try to make a case for opening the presents a day or two early? But as innovative as children can get in their intelligence-gathering, sabotage efforts, and verbal pleading, nothing can actually make the joy of Christmas come sooner. We as Christians have been in a similar position for the past two thousand years, trusting that Christ will return as he promised to fulfill the reign of God’s Kingdom, but having those hopes and expectations put off generation after generation. This is not a new problem — the Apostles had to deal with it even in the first century. But it’s a real one for all of us caught in the now-but-not-yet of trusting in the ways of the Kingdom of God while still having to live and be caught in and by the ways of the kingdoms of this world. This is the theme of today’s second reading, taken from the Second Epistle of Peter, generally agreed to be one of the last New Testament books written (quite possible too late for it to have been written by Peter himself, though I’ll refer here to the author as Peter for the sake of both tradition and ease), when impatience with the apparent delay in Christ’s return was starting to increase. And I think it offers us some helpful guidance, both in how we approach Advent as a season, and how this season can shape our outlook 365 (and a quarter) days a year.

Peter is in the midst of a pretty typical Apocalyptic passage, saying things like “the present heavens and earth have been reserved for fire, being kept until the day of judgement and destruction of the godless.” But then he shifts tone slightly, and that’s where today’s passage begins:

But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day. The Lord is not slow about his promise, as some think of slowness, but is patient with you, not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed. Since all these things are to be dissolved in this way, what sort of persons ought you to be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set ablaze and dissolved, and the elements will melt with fire? But, in accordance with his promise, we wait for new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home. Therefore, beloved, while you are waiting for these things, strive to be found by him at peace, without spot or blemish; and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation. (2 Peter 3:8-15)

There’s a lot to unpack here. He starts by reminding his readers (and us) that God ‘exists’ outside of time, so we cannot fathom what God is about when it comes to time — just as a two-dimensional being of height and length would find it impossible to understand what it would be like to experience depth as a fixed dimension as we do. But he doesn’t just use this metaphysical reasoning to explain away the apparent delay in the fruition of God’s plans. Sure, God’s experience of time is so different from ours that what seems fast or slow to God may look very different from our perspective, but any ‘delay’ is not without purpose. It’s actually motivated by God’s patience with us, wanting to give as many of us as possible the opportunity to get with the program in this world before ushering in the next. Then, in typical apocalyptic language of fiery heavens and a dissolving world, he asks his readers to imagine a different world — “new heavens and a new earth, where righteousness is at home,” urging them (and us) to lead “lives of holiness and godliness” and “strive to be found … at peace, without spot or blemish.”

At this point, we need to remember that this language isn’t primarily referring to personal piety or adherence to any sort of purity culture. In the New Testament, whenever we see the word ‘righteousness’, we need to remember that the underlying Greek word can equally be translated as ‘justice’ (and vice versa). While this is a particularity of Greek vocabulary, it is also in full agreement with Jesus’ own teaching, which always valued the impact of our behaviour on others over immaculate law-keeping. In the New Testament mindset, the enactment of justice in the world is what righteousness looks like, and a righteous life will always be just and want justice — “love in action” — to be done.

The passage concludes by telling those growing impatient with God to “regard the patience of our Lord as salvation.” And I think this holds the key to the whole passage. Over the centuries in the Christian West, and particularly within Protestantism, salvation came to be thought of more and more in terms of criteria for entry: If you are baptized, or have ‘accepted Jesus as your Lord and Saviour’ you can say that you are saved. But in the East, they’ve maintained a different, and certainly more Biblical, perspective: which is that salvation includes everything from justification, through sanctification, to our ultimate full union with God. That is to say, in much of Christianity today, “Are you saved?” is a Yes-or-No question; but for most of Christian history, and to this day in the Christian East, the best answer one can give is “More and more every day, with God’s help.” This is why the New Testament can talk about salvation as being something we have received (Luke 19.9), but also something we are receiving (2 Corinthians 6.2; 1 Peter 1.9), working out (Philippians 2.12), growing into (1 Peter 2.2) and still awaiting (Romans 13.11; 2 Timothy 2.10; Hebrews 1.14; 1 Peter 1.5). Looked at from this perspective, what feels to us as a ‘delay’ in God’s plans coming to fruition is not arbitrary or a sign that God doesn’t care, bur rather strategic, and just as much a part of what God is doing “for us and for our salvation.”

Note here that Peter has not emphasized evangelism here. While bringing more and more people into the fold is almost certainly part of what he intends, his emphasis is on how his readers — that is to say, those of us who are already committed to living as disciples of Jesus — are living. It’s less about God giving time for “them” to get their acts together than it is about God giving time for “us” — those already on the inside — to get our acts together: to start living out the Christlike life of healed and whole, reciprocal relationships that is the whole point of Christian faithfulness.

What Peter offers here is a very different spin from what we normally hear about: If we are feeling frustrated and impatient for God to act, we are to reframe this delay as an opportunity. Every day longer we wait is another day to make ourselves more and more ready for life in God’s Kingdom of love, generosity, compassion, and grace. I started this post by thinking of the image of a child impatiently waiting for Christmas morning. But from the perspective of today’s Epistle reading, we would do better to think on the image of the child’s parents: the ones who are doing all the work to make sure Christmas happens: baking the cookies, buying and wrapping the presents, preparing the foods, welcoming the guests. For them, an extra day is not a curse, but a blessing: the gift of time, not to do nothing and still try to get ready at the last possible moment, but to do the work without rush or stress. In other words, to be like the bridesmaids who stayed alert with their wicks prepared and lamps full of oil, and not those who find themselves unprepared for the big moment.

And so, as we live out Advent this year, preparing for the coming of Christ on Christmas, in our hearts and lives, and ultimately, in the world, we would do well to keep this spirit in mind and heart. Every day, every challenge, every delay, every disappointment, every storm, is a new opportunity to become a bit more like Jesus. We wait with expectation and longing, but use our time wisely, showing up fully in all our relationships and doing what needs to be done to pass on what we’ve been given.