“Christ has come. Christ will come again.”

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

I want to talk to you this morning about the Battle of Waterloo.

Well not only.  What I really want to talk to you about is the apparent contradiction between the happiness we are supposed to feel as Christians (and have been promised) and the struggles of our daily lives that often leave us very unhappy.

One of the major themes of Advent, in fact, is a kind of command to be happy. An important text used used during Advent is Paul’s call to the Philippians, “Rejoice! Let me say it again.  Rejoice!”

Well that’s fine.  We are all in favor of rejoicing and of being happy, but what is it precisely that we’re supposed to be happy about? And how can we do that in a meaningful way?

Well, we’re supposed to rejoice in two turning-point events: one past and one in the future--the birth of Christ and the Second Coming of Christ.

Advent is meant to focus our minds in a special way on both of those events, but especially on Christ’s Second Coming when the salvation of the world, begun at the Incarnation, will be completed and perfected. When all suffering will be banished and every tear wiped away and peace and justice will reign in the land forever.

This vision of future happiness, this anticipation is meant to make us happy in the here and now too. “Rejoice!  Again I say, Rejoice!)

So, the message of Advent (or at least part of it) is this:  Be happy.  Rejoice.  Don’t be afraid.  “Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low” -- the text from Isaiah cited by the prophet Baruch in today’s first lesson and by Luke in today’s Gospel.

So we Christians, we followers of Christ, have been given a wonderful promise. The promise of happiness -- because Christ has come and Christ will come again.

Well, that’s all very well and good.  But if we’ve been promised all this happiness and peace and rejoicing because Christ has come and Christ will come again, why are we so often so very unhappy?  Why are we so anxious?  Why are we so often insecure or sad or even sometimes depressed? Does that make us bad Christians?

Or maybe these promises are just unrealistic or exaggerated.  Or perhaps this call to be happy is for somebody else--but not for me.  Maybe we say to ourselves: “ I can’t accept this form of happy clappy religion. I’m not bubbling over with joy and happiness and peace and tranquility. Life is too tough for that.  I’m just trying to get through the day as best I can, with the help of God.”

I agree with that in a sense.  The idea of happy clappy  Christianity doesn’t  resonate much with me.  But that still leaves us with a question.  We’re called to be happy.  By God, by Christ, and in a special way we hear that call during Advent.

Is there some way to reconcile BOTH the difficulties and sorrows of our lives with an authentic experience of peace and happiness?

I think there is--and here’s where our understanding of  Waterloo may be able to help us.

All great battles have a turning point. The Battle of Waterloo in 1815 was no exception.  It was one of the most important battles of European history. Of world history!  It changed everything.  It was a struggle to the death to control Europe between Napoleon and the Anglo-Allied forces, led by the Duke of Wellington and a Prussian general named Blüker.

When the battle began, what Napoleon decided to do was to send his army between the two armies that  were arrayed against him and to encircle the first the one and then the other, defeating each in turn.  Divide and conquer.  That was his strategy and it had worked many times before. 

So the French Emperor first moved to encircle the Prussians but, when Blüker realized what was happening, instead of sending his army to the east, he quickly and quietly sent most it to the north to join Wellington, leaving Napoleon thinking that the Prussians were retreating eastward.

When the Prussians reached the British without Napoleon realizing what had happened, Wellington knew he had won the war.  Napoleon could not stand up to two combined armies.  Wellington knew it was “all over”, even though it wasn’t.  Even though many men were still to be wounded and still to die on that awful battlefield in Belgium. 

Yet Wellington understood immediately--and rightly--that the battle had been decided.  The turning point had been reached.

The key  phrase here is “turning point”.

And so it is with the unfolding history of the world--the story of salvation history.  The idea is this:  the turning point has already been reached, the victory has already been achieved, the outcome is no longer in doubt.

Christ was victorious in his struggle to redeem the world -- and to redeem us.  That battle was prefigured and foretold by the prophets.  It was begun in Bethlehem, continued in the message and miracles of Jesus, and paid for by his suffering on the cross.  The turning point has been reached, but the battle goes on.  In history and in our lives.

We can in fact be both happy and peaceful and serene -- even as we feel anxious or sad, knowing that in this life there are still crosses we have to bear.

The essential battle has been won.  “Christ has died. Christ is risen.  Christ will come again,”  and when he comes again in glory, his Kingdom will be established forever, when finally finally there will be no more war, and no more tears and  no more sorrow.

So of the many themes and messages of Advent, one of them is surely this:  we are called to two states of mind simultaneously. One is an underlying sense of peace and happiness and sometimes even joy, which comes from our faith in God’s victory in Christ Jesus. This isn’t happy clappy.  It’s the peace that comes from a sustaining faith and a joyful gratitude for what God in Christ has done for us.

The other state of mind is the honest realization that we too, like our Lord, are going to have to bear our cross.  That we will  still have battles to wage, even though we already know the outcome.  Still, we have to wage them.  And the realization that it won’t always be easy.  There are sometimes tears to be shed in this life. There is ill health to be faced.  There is anxiety to be endured.  There is sorrow to be felt.  There are losses to be born.

And yet all these things are made easier because we know the outcome. And it’s the outcome that gives us courage -- and yes! even joy.

On this Second Sunday of Advent, as Christmas comes closer and closer, let’s resolve to courageously accept the burdens and sorrows and difficulties of life--at least the ones we cannot change -- with equanimity and serenity and with faith and above all, with hope.

After all, the turning point has been reached. The victory is Christ’s. The victory is ours. “Christ has died.  Christ is risen. Christ will come again.”

Amen.