Trust in the Slow Work of God

2 Peter 3:8-15a

Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go… That song always made the holiday trek to family seem so quaint. The reality in my family, however, was different. The eight-hour car rides to western NY state were long for my brother and I. We read and sang songs; we drew an imaginary line down the middle of the car and argued about who crossed it; we played endless rounds of the alphabet game. And about every 20 minutes we would ask, “Are we there yet?”

“Are we there yet?” was the question in Peter’s community, too. This is one of the latest letters of the New Testament, probably written by a follower of Peter, around the year 100. Jesus had promised that he would return to usher in God’s reign of righteousness.
Sure, he had warned that there would be times of trial and suffering, but he made it sound like he would be coming soon.

By now, however, some 70 years had passed since Jesus’ death and resurrection. And times were tough—families split when people became Christian, people lost work and friends. The authorities were not just hostile to Christians, but actively persecuted them,
throwing them in jail or feeding them to the lions in the circus. Nero blamed the burning of Rome on Christians, turning the populace against them. Few emperors had care for the people, so the economy faltered, and many were hungry. Where was Jesus? Christians were beginning to wonder what was taking so long—and if Jesus were coming back at all.

Are we there yet? In this context, it’s not a whiny question. It’s a question of mustering the faith to persevere in the face of hardship, disappointment, and a prolonged timeline.

It’s a question that has been on my mind as I watch the news. This week was the 82nd anniversary of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. People had hoped that WWI would be the “war to end all wars;” but that didn’t happen. In fact, the seeds to WWII were planted in the agreements made after WWI, just as the seeds of the Cold War were planted in the aftermath of WWII.

According to the Dept of Veterans Affairs, since then the US has fought in 4 major wars, including the two-decade Global War on Terror, which includes Afghanistan and Iraq. Each time, the hope is that evil will be stopped, that a more peaceful world order can be established. But it seems that new evils arise in place of the old ones, nation-building is tough, and good intentions get twisted by greed and power. The pictures of Nazis marching and smoke and flame in Pearl Harbor are replaced by images of refugees fleeing Ukraine and Gaza, unspeakable violence in Israel and Palestine, and unsettling questions about democracy and authoritarianism in our own country. Are we there yet? It seems the answer is no.

This is where I find inspiration in the words of 2 Peter. “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.” Amid the apocalyptic imagery of this letter with its fire and catastrophe come these words of explanation. God is not slow or tardy; God has not forgotten about the world God made. Rather, this time of struggle is part of a plan—God’s plan. And it has to do with not just with certain people being saved, but ALL people being saved. God does not want any to perish, the author writes—God wants all to come to repentance.

God is not satisfied to rapture a few. God wanted the Japanese and the Americans. God wants the Russians and the Ukrainians, the Palestinians and the Israelis. God wants the people of war-torn nations to be saved and leaders of the nations to come to repentance. God has not abandoned us or changed God’s mind—God is being compassionate.

But it gets even more specific than that. 2 Peter says, God is patient with you. God wants us to be involved in the healing of the world; God wants us to be about the work of justice and peacemaking. It may be a hard sell in this historical moment, but I don’t think it was any easier in Peter’s day. And his point is that God is willing to wait until we have done our part and all have come to repentance.

And this is where the rubber hits the road for me. Because here at Epiphany, we also ask the question, are we there yet? When will we be able to call an associate pastor? When will we get our finances in order, or volleyball courts fixed, more programming for kids and families? We have a lot of ideas, but progress can seem slow. We too can wonder if God has forgotten about us, left us to our own devices.

Like the rest of the world, we are living between the now and the not yet. Jesus has come into the world, but his work is yet to be finished. Peter asks: “What sort of person ought you be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God?” In other words, “So what can we do now?”

French Jesuit priest Teilhard de Chardin addresses this question in his prayer Patient Trust:
 
“Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new.
 
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through some stages of instability—
and that it may take a very long time.
 
And so I think it is with you;
your ideas mature gradually—let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.
 
Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.”
 
The answer to Peter’s question, “What sort of person ought you be in leading lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God?” Trust in the slow work of God. Look back and see where God has acted already. See how the Lord has provided in your time of need. Notice how mercy held you and opportunities appeared at just the right moment. Mark the places where the long arc of history bent toward justice. We need to believe together that the hand of the Lord is leading us and that we have nothing to fear. The anxiety we feel is simply an invitation:
That God is not done with you, or Epiphany. There is a bright new chapter of life that awaits us in Christ. And so we wait in anticipation. We act with integrity and love. We trust in the slow sure work of God to bring all into God’s wide embrace, and that we are a part of it.

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