When Morning Seems Slow to Come
A hope-filled pastoral reflection on the second coming of Jesus, by Claude Lombart.
“I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also.”John 14:3
This is not intended to be a scholarly discourse on the apparent delay of the Parousia. It is a personal and pastoral reflection on a promise that has stood at the heart of Seventh-day Adventism from its beginning—and within my own heart since childhood: Jesus is coming again.
When disappointment did not have the final word
Our community of faith emerged from the aftermath of the Great Disappointment of 1844. Believers had become convinced that Jesus would return in October of that year. Some gave away or sold their possessions and waited with intense expectation. When Christ did not appear, their joyful anticipation collapsed into bitter disappointment.
Yet disappointment did not have the final word.
Through prayer and renewed study of Scripture, our pioneers came to recognise that the promise of Christ’s return had not failed; they had misunderstood the nature of the event associated with the prophecy. They could have abandoned their faith, but instead they returned to the Bible and began again.
In 1863, when the Seventh-day Adventist Church was formally organised, the hope of Christ’s return became part of our very name and identity. We were not merely people who had been disappointed. We became a people looking forward—people of the Advent.
That hope still defines us.
Has Christ forgotten His promise?
For more than 180 years, Adventists have preached, taught, prayed and sung about the return of Jesus. Generations have lived and died while cherishing His promise to come again.
The passing of time does not invalidate that promise. Jesus has not forgotten us, abandoned us or changed His mind. The One who promised to return is the same Jesus who gave His life for us. The cross is our assurance that He will finish what He began.
Nevertheless, it is understandable that weary believers sometimes cry, “How long, O Lord?” That question is not necessarily an expression of unbelief. It is the prayer of people who ache for suffering to end, graves to open, families to be reunited and the world to be made new.
What appears to us to be a delay may look very different from God’s eternal perspective. We experience history one day at a time; God sees its beginning and its end. He is never hurried, never taken by surprise and never late.
What we call delay, heaven calls patience
“The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.”2 Peter 3:9
Every additional day is another day in which someone may encounter grace, a wounded heart may discover healing, a prodigal may come home and the good news of God’s love may reach another person.
Ellen White expressed this beautifully: “The long night of gloom is trying, but the morning is deferred in mercy.” She explained that God’s unwillingness for people to perish lies behind what appears to be a delay (Testimonies for the Church, vol. 2, p. 194).
God’s patience is not evidence of indifference. It is evidence that His heart remains open to the people for whom Christ died.
The night may feel long—but morning is coming.