December 2, 2015

Now hope that is seen is not hope.  For who hopes for what is seen?
Romans 8:24b,c

These words from St. Paul came to me at some point on Monday.

In the early morning hours of November 15, the gas to the building was shut off when someone called Avista to report a smell of gas coming from the building.  After a series of phone calls and various people coming to the church to inspect one thing or another, it was determined that the two furnaces used to heat the church proper needed to be replaced.  I contacted the company we have used, it seems, forever, and they gave us a bid to replace the furnaces.  I presented that bid to the Vestry on November 19.  I was hopeful that I could schedule a furnace replacement before Thanksgiving.

The Vestry, however, required at least two other comparative bids.  So I had Merle call a few other companies to arrange that.  On Monday, November 23, three other heating and air companies came out to look at the furnaces and generate bids.  Two out of the three returned bids by Wednesday, November 25.  As it turned out, the Vestry made the right call, and Caveman Heating and Air gave us a bid at a substantially lower price for essentially the same equipment.  I called Caveman and was given an install date of Tuesday, December 1, at 8 a.m.

And on Monday, November 30, I began hoping.  I was hoping that the crew showed up on time.  I was hoping that there wouldn't be any “unforeseen problems.”  I was hoping that the crew didn't go over budget, causing us to renegotiate.  I was hoping they didn't drop the furnaces going down stairs.  I was hoping they wouldn't break anything.  I was hoping the furnaces would run correctly.  As I write this, I am hoping they will be finished with the install today.

The crew did show up on time (early, even), and when they finish installing the furnaces, my hope will be complete.  At that point it will no longer be hope, because the hope I had about all I mentioned will have been realized; or, in Paul's language, it will be seen.  The furnaces will be installed.  Nothing was dropped.  Nothing will have been broken.  They will be running smoothly.  And we will once again be worshiping God inside the church proper, unconcerned about needing to wear parkas.

Advent is a time of hope.  It is a time of looking back at the birth of Christ and hoping that that little baby can change both our lives and the world.  It is a time of looking forward to the coming of Christ and hoping that that man can change both our lives and the world.  But we aren't there yet.  There are still wars and rumors of wars.  There is still fear and trembling.  There are still signs in the heavens.  And still we hope.

One difference between the hope I had for new furnaces and the hope I have for Christ to be made known to the world, is that I played no part in the actual installation of the furnaces.  Unlike that furnace installation, you and I both have parts to play in making Christ known to the world.  And when that finally happens, our hope will be complete.

It's Advent.  What are you hoping for?

Amen.