Waiting on a Car, Waiting on the Kingdom - Luke 12:32-40

A few of you have asked what happened with the Mercedes I mentioned in a previous  sermon. You might recall that our 17-year-old Nate inherited the car when his great-uncle passed away. It was a beautiful, jet-black, eight-cylinder S-class dream machine with leather interior, and Nate was smitten. Sunroof. Soft-close doors. Air suspension. Bose audio system with a five-disc CD changer. Heated seats. The works— guaranteed to impress one’s date and friends.

But it came with formidable mechanical trouble and was barely operational. We had agreed to let this car into the family only if fixing it wouldn’t break the bank. With YouTube as their guide, Nate and Jason replaced spark plugs and wires. Nate consulted his auto mechanics instructor on everything possible. But alas, all that DIY work wasn’t enough. The next step would involve a professional mechanic, and all we saw were dollar signs. The car was sold for a song through the uncle’s estate and towed out of our driveway.

Nate, of course, was still dreaming, passionately, about having his own car, so we kept looking. A person whom I believed to be my friend posted a used Honda on Facebook that checked all the boxes: inexpensive, reliable, one owner. Basically, the unicorn of used cars. We jumped on it. I tried to go see it immediately, but as we messaged back and forth, things got weird. Long story short, it was a scam that we almost fell for. The only reason we didn’t is that I couldn’t complete sending a deposit to hold the car. The the two-step authentication code was going to Jason’s phone, but he was camping in the Swiss Alps, sleeping in a tent at the time. Thanks to time difference and his remote location, we didn’t lose any money to the scam. But Nate was heartbroken once again.

Then, another car came within reach — a 2005 BMW, low mileage, inexpensive, and actually real. It belonged to his friend’s grandfather, who was downsizing his extensive car collection. It needed a battery and a few other things, so the grandfather arranged to have it towed to the friend’s house, to be sold to Nate. I think there was some miscommunication, though. The tow truck driver offered cash for the car, and the grandfather accepted. Another car slipped through Nate’s fingers. He pointed out that the same grandfather was also selling a non-operational 1985 RX7—which we did not entertain. Thus, the search continues.

Nate’s waiting on a future car is, in a way, a metaphor for the Christian life. He’s waiting on a car, which, especially to a teenager, symbolizes joy and freedom. The world will be all he hopes it will be when that car is his. There may be no purer form of earthly hope than a teen has for a car. In the meantime, he’s waiting, often disappointed, struggling to hold on to that vision of how things could be.

That sounds like how we Christians view the world. Things are most certainly not as they should be. So we live in a state of waiting. We are often disappointed, heartbroken even, struggling to hold on to the vision of how things could be.

If that resonates, the twelfth chapter of Luke is for you. Our passage opens with Jesus saying, “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Did you know that “do not be afraid” is one of the most repeated phrases Jesus says in the Gospels? If earthly kingdoms—and all that they symbolize—make you anxious in any way, Jesus invites us to let go of worry and fear as the place to start in the life of faith.

And that’s the non-anxious lens through which we’re invited to hear the next part of the passage:
"Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. Blessed are those servants whom the master finds alert when he comes…"

This is not about being afraid of the master and his unannounced arrival, or afraid of God whom the master symbolizes. It’s about living alertly, grounded in the hope that the Kingdom of God is not some far-off abstraction, but something real and promised and on its way at an unknown hour. Living alertly looks like orienting our lives toward the Kingdom and living according to its values now. In our first reading, the prophet Isaiah gives us a sense of what that looks like. “Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed” and more. These are foundational, faithful practices for us. We are to live as if the world is about to be made right, even when it hasn’t been yet.

Jesus finishes with a strange image: “If the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.”

This isn’t meant to scare us. Remember where we started, do not be afraid. The thief in the night language is meant to wake us up. Jesus is teaching us that the Kingdom of God arrives in surprising ways—in midnight moments, in disappointment, even in nearly missed scams and failed dreams. Faithfulness means staying awake to the possibility that God’s work is unfolding even in what feels like delay.

So the wait continues—for Nate and his car, and for us and the Kingdom. But maybe the waiting isn’t wasted. Maybe it’s where God is shaping us—teaching patience, sharpening our hope, and opening our eyes.

So keep watch, friends. Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit. Stay ready. Not anxious, not discouraged—just open. Because even in disappointment, even in delay, the Kingdom is drawing near. And it’s worth the wait.