This past week, my family and I spent time in Virginia Beach. I’m an early riser by nature, so each morning I found myself tiptoeing through the house before sunrise, slipping outside to watch the ocean wake up. There’s something about the quiet darkness right before dawn that feels holy—just me, the water, the horizon, and God.
But the morning after Thanksgiving, something different happened. As I stood there waiting for that first streak of gold to rise from the water, I suddenly realized I wasn’t alone. A silhouette stood further down the beach, also facing the horizon. Then I noticed another. And another. Even the deck next door was full of quiet watchers. We were all standing in the dark, waiting for the moment when warmth and light would break across the water.
Not talking.
Not rushing.
Just watching.
And it struck me: Advent is a lot like this.
Some people eagerly watch for signs of God’s light, standing ready in the darkness. Others notice the sky brightening but never pause long enough to see the sun itself. Still others stay in the shadows, never realizing the light has already come.
Advent invites us to become watchers of the light.
Isaiah’s Vision of Light
Our scripture from Isaiah 2 paints a picture of hope bursting into a fearful world. Israel was living through political upheaval, threats of invasion, and deep uncertainty. Into that darkness, Isaiah speaks words of profound promise:
“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord…
That he may teach us his ways and we may walk in his paths.”
It’s not a private promise. It’s not reserved for a chosen few. Isaiah says nations—plural—will stream toward the mountain of God. Weapons will become gardening tools. War will become peace. Fear will be replaced by the warm light of God’s justice.
Isaiah’s invitation is simple and powerful:
Walk in the light of the Lord.
Turn toward the horizon.
Pay attention to where God’s light is rising.
Matthew’s Call to Be Ready
The Gospel of Matthew takes Isaiah’s hope and adds a challenge: How will you wait? Matthew’s community had survived the destruction of the Temple and were desperate for reassurance. When would God’s promised peace come? When would things be made right?
Jesus doesn’t give them a timetable.
He gives them an invitation:
Be vigilant. Stay awake. Keep your eyes on the horizon.
Just as some people watch the sunrise with expectation—and others sleep through it—Jesus reminds us that the Kingdom of God will break in whether we’re paying attention or not. Our task is not to predict the moment, but to live ready for it.
The Enemy of Attention: Hurry
Of all the obstacles to spiritual readiness, hurry may be the most dangerous.
During Thanksgiving week, as I was preparing this sermon, I felt my heart rate climbing with the familiar pressure of the “Christmas race.” The lists, the schedules, the budgets, the perfectly folded wrapping paper, the hot chocolate moments we want to manufacture—all of it starts piling up. Without even realizing it, I was moving from peaceful watching to anxious rushing.
Right in the middle of my studying, my Apple Watch gave me a high heart rate alert. That was my wake-up call: I had shifted from watching the sunrise to racing the clock.
It reminded me of that Alabama song that says:
“I’m in a hurry to get things done,
I rush and rush until life’s no fun…”
Isn’t that the truth of December for so many of us?
In all the rushing, the list-making, the present-wrapping—
we forget to look for the Light.
The Gift and the Warning
Today’s scriptures offer us both a gift and a gentle warning.
The Gift:
We can choose an unhurried Advent.
We can choose to be present to God.
We can choose to face the horizon and notice where Christ’s light is already rising.
Our tasks don’t have to disappear. We can bake cookies, wrap gifts, decorate, celebrate, and enjoy traditions. Scripture is full of people working in fields and grinding grain—living real, full lives. But it is how we do these things that shapes our spiritual posture.
The Warning:
If we let the season sweep us up in busyness,
we may miss the joy that comes from noticing God.
We may fail to see where Jesus is nudging us to be His presence for someone else.
We may live the season but miss the Savior.
Jesus is not waiting to catch us off guard.
He’s inviting us to live awake.
Hope for an Unhurried Advent
Isaiah promises peace to people overwhelmed by fear.
Jesus calls His disciples to be ready in a world full of uncertainty.
And these messages reach us today with the same grace:
Slow down. Pay attention. Look for God.
This Advent, may we stop long enough to face the horizon.
May we notice small rays of kindness, mercy, and hope.
May we walk in the light of the Lord.
And may the coming of Jesus—quiet, steady, and impossible to miss for those who watch—fill our hearts with peace.