I am not very good at waiting. Are you? I do not like to sit and twiddle my thumbs waiting for something to happen. Do you remember that in days past shoe repair shops would advertize, “Shoes repaired while you wait”? You would go in, sit down, take off your old clodhoppers, and turn them in, only to discover that the cobbler was working on six other pairs and would get to yours in a while, just take a seat and wait, in your stocking feet, on the cold floor. I was not very good with that.
And let us not even speak of doctors’ offices. You rush to get there for your appointment, only to find a room full of people, some of whom have no appointments but are just being sandwiched in, and all your rushing turns into two hours of thumbing through stale magazines. While we wait, we fume about lost time and about all the all-important things we could be doing – while we wait.
I hold in my hand a precious document. It is of special value to Margaret and me. It is a card that Liz Abernethy wrote us, dated March 4. It expresses appreciation for our visiting her at the hospital and for a little gift that we brought. Howard tells us that Liz began writing a number of cards like this, but that ours is the only one that she was able to finish. It is very precious to us, Howard; we treasure this.
What sort of person writes cards while she waits to die? What kind of woman can, with all the discomfort she was enduring, grasp a pen and, in spidery handwriting, express gratitude, while she waits for the inevitable? What strong soul is this, who, knowing that she has only days to live, perhaps only hours, pulls her thoughts together to think of others? Most of us, I submit, would not know how to wait as Liz did. Most of us would thrash about in anxiety; we would worry and fret and give up. What sort of person, while she waits for that old enemy, writes, “I enjoyed your visits at the hospital”. Enjoyed? Enjoyed?! How can you enjoy anything while you wait for more suffering?
The New Testament Letter to Titus sheds light on this. The Letter to Titus is an instruction manual in how to wait. This little letter comes late in the experience of the early church. If it comes from Paul, as tradition says, it comes from late in Paul’s life, maybe even while he was in prison waiting to die. Or if, as some scholars suggest, it was not from Paul, we still know that it was written at a time when some of the early Christians were losing patience and giving up hope. They had expected to see the return of Christ within their lifetimes. They had supposed that God would bring it all to a swift and sudden end. But it was not happening. They were having to wait. And so the Letter to Titus instructs them in the art of waiting. For us, it interprets for us Elizabeth Abernethy’s way of waiting. Listen:
“For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all, training us to renounce impiety and worldly passions, and in the present age to live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly, while we wait ...”
Did you hear the qualities of the person who knows what to do while we wait? “In the present age ... live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly, while we wait ...”
I
A
Self-controlled – what would you be doing if standing around your bed there were doctors, family members, your husband, and even your former pastor and his wife, all of them asking you whether you wanted heroic efforts made to keep you breathing? What would your reaction be if all these folks were talking about whether you wanted this tube inserted or that apparatus connected? Personally I would just want to hurry off into denial, pull the pillow over my head, and pretend they weren’t even there. But Liz participated fully and calmly in these decisions, and, I am sure, led her family to accept them too. I thank God there was no Terry Schiavo situation for you! Liz remained self-controlled to the end.
B
Then the Scripture says “self-controlled and upright”. Upright. Liz had a strong sense of what was right. She had convictions that did not waver. Throughout her 37 years of membership in this church, she saw many things change; some of those changes were too much for some of her contemporaries, and they found their way elsewhere. Liz and Howard did not follow them. Liz and Howard knew that the God of the gospel is no respecter of persons, that in Christ there is no east or west, in Him no south nor north, but one great fellowship of love throughout the whole wide earth. The changing character of this congregation troubled her not at all, and whenever she was asked to offer leadership, invariably she would say, “I don’t know if I can do it, but I’ll try.” And try she did, and more; she worked, she gave, she participated. She had made a commitment, and she kept it. She waited, self-controlled and upright.
C
And finally, godly. Self-controlled, upright, and godly. A woman who knew the Lord, who loved the Lord in her own quiet way, one who had a deep and abiding sense of the power of His presence. I could not help noticing, when Margaret and I went to the home on the day of her death, the stack of hymnals on the piano. Copies of the several hymnals used here at Takoma Park, and others as well. Clearly she loved those great words and those stirring sounds that brought her into the Presence. Her prayer was simple and straightforward, without any attempt at rhetoric. Her faith was childlike, without false sophistication. In a word, Liz was a godly woman.
And so, armed with self-control, integrity, and godliness, she could wait. But what of us? What do we do while we wait?
II
A
While we wait, many of us are anxious about those things we cannot control. We beep our car horns at the driver who does not respond instantly to the green light. We hoard our possessions and pile up our cash, supposing that somehow building bigger barns might keep us going. We strike out in anger against those who do not jump when we command them. We do not know how to wait because we are not self-controlled, while we wait
B
While we wait, some of us surrender our moral fiber. We cannot wait for the fruits of our labors to pay us; we would prefer to cut corners, while we wait. Tax time is coming, and some of us look for every way to hide the full story from the government. Marriage is a bit trying, and so some of us look for a little action on the side. We do not know how to wait because we are not committed to being upright, while we wait.
C
While we wait, few of us are comfortable with God’s time. It is not good enough for us that with Him a thousand years are as a day. Why cannot God move on our own timetable? And so we push to make things happen when we want them, and cannot let God be God, while we wait.
III
But Liz Abernethy knew how to wait – with self-control, uprightness, and godliness. And she also knew for what she waited. Again Titus helps us grasp it:
“While we wait for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.”
Brothers and sisters, what we wait for, what Liz waited for, what all humanity groans for, is the outpouring of God’s final victory in Jesus Christ. What we wait for, what Liz waited for, what the church at its best waits for, is that day when there will be no more sorrow, no more sighing, no more pain, and no more death. It is not yet, but I tell you, it is coming. It is coming. How do I know? How did Liz Abernethy know?
On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross, the emblem of suffering and pain. And on that cross died the best of men, one terrible Friday afternoon. On that cross it seemed that death had won the day, as the one they called The King of the Jews cried out, “My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?” Where was God’s timetable? Why did not God act to stop this injustice and to ease this pain? At the end of the day, most of Jesus’ friends melted away into the darkness, to huddle in frustration and fear and shame. What were they to do now except to wait for their own arrest and crucifixion?
But while they waited for that, on the day of preparation, as the Sabbath was beginning, certain women followed and saw the tomb, saw how the body of Jesus had been laid there, and went home to prepare spices and ointments to embalm the body. On that day, that Sabbath, that “Saturday” after Good Friday, Luke tells us, “They rested according to the commandment.” Women, doing what needed to be done, preparing ointments, self-controlled; and upright, keeping the Sabbath Day.” While we wait.
But on the first day of the week, came the women to the tomb in Joseph’s garden, and found the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. On the first day of the week, women, filled with hope and faith, witnessed that awesome reality, that He was not here, but was risen. While they had waited, God had worked a work for them. While they had waited, God had achieved in Jesus what all humanity had hoped for.
“We wait for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.” And while we wait, God is at work even today, toward that day that has been guaranteed by the risen Christ, toward that day when all shall be made alive. Toward that day when death will no longer have dominion. Toward that day when healing will spread to all the nations. Toward that day when the kingdoms of this world will become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ, and He shall reign forever and ever.
While we wait, as Titus teaches us to wait, as Liz showed us how to wait – while we wait, death seems to be at work, but it is life that will win. While we wait, terror appears to abound, but it is God’s Sabbath peace that will finally be secured. While we wait.
Howard, wait. You will see her again. Family, wait. You will know her smile again. Takoma Park church, wait. She will walk among you in that great church that knows no bounds of place or time or race or anything human. Brothers and sisters, wait. Friday, the day of death was yesterday. This is Saturday, the waiting day. But, while we wait, Sunday’s coming!
