Isaiah 11:1-10, Romans 15:4-13, Matthew 3:1-12
We are waiting. This is the season of Advent. We wait for the birth of Christ, Our Savior, and we wait for his coming again. Isaiah prophesizes of a coming Messiah: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots. The spirit of the Lord shall rest on him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.” And, in the Gospel, we are reminded of John the Baptist “preparing the way of the Lord”. We wait….we wait in hope….the sweetness of hope. In the Epistle, Paul prays for the Romans: “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Today I want us to remember, to know the sweetness of hope. I would like you to come along with me in recalling the children’s classic, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, by Roald Dahl (Puffin Books, 1998). And, I ask that you open your heart to that feeling of hope and anticipation in waiting.
Charlie and his parents and his four grandparents live in a very small house on the edge of town. They are quite poor, surviving on bread and butter for breakfast, boiled potatoes and cabbage for lunch, and cabbage soup for supper. Charlie is a growing boy, always hungry, and the one food he longs for more than anything else is chocolate. Listen to how Charlie waits for and savors chocolate. “Only once a year, on his birthday, did Charlie Bucket ever get to taste a bit of chocolate. The whole family saved up their money for that special occasion, and when the great day arrived, Charlie was always presented with one small chocolate bar to eat all by himself. And each time he received it, on those marvelous birthday mornings, he would place it carefully in a small wooden box that he owned, and treasure it as though it were a bar of solid gold; and for the next few days, he would allow himself only to look at it, but never to touch it. Then at last, when he could stand it no longer, he would peel back a tiny bit of the paper wrapping at one corner to expose a tiny bit of chocolate, and then he would take a tiny nibble – just enough to allow the lovely sweet taste to spread out slowly over his tongue. The next day, he would take another tiny nibble, and so on, and so on. And in this way, Charlie would make his ten-cent bar of birthday chocolate last him for more than a month.” (p. 6)
All year, Charlie longs for the chocolate that he can not afford. He is taunted by chocolate bars in store windows. He is taunted by other children greedily devouring chocolate bars right in from of him. But, even more so, he is taunted by the world’s largest chocolate factory located right within sight of his home. In the evenings, Charlie’s Grandpa Joe regales him with stories about Mr. Willy Wonka, “the most amazing, the most fantastic, the most extraordinary chocolate maker the world has ever seen!” (p. 9). And, then, one day, the headline of the evening paper is almost too amazing to believe: “Wonka Factory To Be Opened At Last To Lucky Few” (p. 19). A Golden Ticket has been hidden under the wrapper of five candy bars. These candy bars could be “in any shop in any street in any town in any country in the world”. The ticket finders will be guided through the chocolate factory by the mysterious and amazing Mr. Willy Wonka. Grandpa Joe exclaims, “Oh, how exciting it would be to find one!” (p. 20)
The first ticket is found and the frenzy begins – Wonka candy begins selling like mad. The day before Charlie’s birthday, the second ticket is found. That evening, Charlie’s mother calls him to bed: “‘Tomorrow’s your birthday, don’t forget that, so I expect you’ll be up early to open your present.’ ‘A Wonka candy bar!’ cried Charlie. ‘It is a Wonka candy bar, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes, my love,’ his mother said. ‘Of course it is.’ ‘Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful if I found the third Golden Ticket inside it?’ Charlie said.” (p. 26)
“‘Happy birthday!’ cried the four old grandparents as Charlie came into their room early the next morning. Charlie smiled nervously and sat down on the edge of the bed. He was holding his present, his only present, very carefully in his two hands. Wonka’s Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight, it said on the wrapper. The four old people, two at either end of the bed, propped themselves up on their pillows and stared with anxious eyes at the candy bar in Charlie’s hands. Mr. and Mrs. Bucket came in and stood at the foot of the bed, watching Charlie. The room became silent. Everybody was waiting now for Charlie to start opening his present. Charlie looked down at the candy bar. He ran his fingers slowly back and forth along the length of it, stroking it lovingly, and the shiny paper wrapper made little sharp crackly noises in the quiet room….They all knew it was ridiculous to expect this one poor little candy bar to have a magic ticket inside it, and they were trying as gently and as kindly as they could to prepare Charlie for this disappointment. But there was one other thing that grownups also knew, and it was this: that however small the chance might be of striking lucky, the chance was there. The chance had to be there. This particular candy bar had as much chance as any other of having a Golden Ticket. And that was why all the grandparents and parents in the room were actually just as tense and excited as Charlie was, although they were pretending to be very calm. ‘You’d better go ahead and open it up, or you’ll be late for school,’ Grandpa Joe said. ‘You might as well get it over with,’ Grandpa George said. ‘Open it, my dear,’ Grandma Georgina said. ‘Please open it. You’re making me jumpy.’ Very slowly, Charlie’s fingers began to tear open one small corner of the wrapping paper. The old people in the bed all leaned forward, craning their scraggy necks. Then suddenly, as though he couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, Charlie tore the wrapper right down the middle…and on to his lap, there fell…a light-brown creamy-colored chocolate candy bar. There was no sign of a Golden Ticket anywhere.” (pgs. 26-29)
The evening newspaper reports that two more Golden Tickets have been found. Now there is just one more available ticket. The next day, Grandpa Joe has a plan. He has a 10-cent piece saved away, and he tells Charlie to go buy a candy bar. “‘Have you got it?’ whispered Grandpa Joe, his eyes shining with excitement. Charlie nodded and held out the bar of candy. Wonka’s Nutty Crunch Surprise, it said on the wrapper. ‘Good!’ the old man whispered, sitting up in the bed and rubbing his hands. ‘Now--come over here and sit close to me and we’ll open it together. Are you ready?’ ‘Yes,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m ready.’ ‘All right. You tear off the first bit.’ ‘No,’ Charlie said, ‘you paid for it. You do it all.’ The old man’s fingers were trembling most terribly as they fumbled with the candy bar. ‘We don’t have a hope, really,’ he whispered, giggling a bit. ‘You do know we don’t have a hope, don’t you?’ ‘Yes,’ Charlie said. ‘I know that.’ They looked at each other, and both started giggling nervously. ‘Mind you,’ said Grandpa Joe, ‘there is just that tiny chance that it might be one, don’t you agree?’ ‘Yes,” Charlie said. ‘Of course. Why don’t you open it Grandpa?’ ‘All in good time, my boy, all in good time. Which end do you think I ought to open first?’ ‘That corner. The one furthest from you. Just tear off a tiny bit, but not quite enough for us to see anything.’ ‘Like that?’ said the old man. ‘Yes. Now a little bit more.’ ‘You finish it,’ said Grandpa Joe. ‘I’m too nervous.’ ‘No, Grandpa. You must do it yourself.’ ‘Very well, then. Here goes.’ He tore off the wrapper. They both stared at what lay underneath. It was a bar of candy – nothing more.” (pgs. 35-36)
Over the next two weeks, the weather turns bad – the tickets are forgotten – Charlie is focused on being hungry and cold. Meals become scant – Charlie is starving. And, one day, walking home from school, Charlie finds a dollar bill on the ground. All he can think of is food. He will buy one 10-cent candy bar, and bring the rest of the money home to his family. Charlie can hardly contain his joy in eating the sweet, delicious candy bar. He simply can’t resist buying one more candy bar…and under the wrapper is the fifth Golden Ticket.
Can you feel the hope? Can you feel the sweetness of waiting in the promise of hope? I believe every emotion in our relationship with God is modeled for us in our earthly life. We know the many facets of God’s love, the fullness of God’s love because we know romantic love and love for children; we know love for family and friends and love for the stranger. And, through the hope of our earthly cares, we know the hope for the greatest gift in life - life lived in relationship with God. Perhaps you recall the youthful anticipation of Christmas morning. Perhaps you recall waiting to hear about a college application or a job application. Perhaps you recall waiting for friends and loved ones to visit. The anticipation is sweet in the hope of what is to come. This is the same hope that sustains us in our desire to know God. Hope is a gift that lives within us, obscured at times, but granted to us eternally. Hope does come with obligation. John the Baptist proclaims, “Repent, for the kingdom of God has come near.” Advent is a reflective season calling us to examine how we live our lives. This examination takes place in the active process of waiting for Christ Our Savior to be born, to come again – the active process of waiting to know Emmanuel, God among us. The season of Advent is a time to know this hope, a time to consciously know this hope. Sit quietly in the wonder of the season. Perhaps you find serenity in the beauty of the lights. Perhaps you are calmed by the beauty of a gentle snow. Sit quietly in the wonder of the season. And, know the gift of Jesus Christ, the gift of eternal life, the gift of relationship with God in this life and forever. This hope is sustained because it is waiting to be fulfilled. This hope is sustained because we are ever offered a deeper relationship with God. There is a Golden Ticket for every one of us just waiting to be found.
