With a big out-of-town wedding yesterday, I must admit that it ended up being a rather late day for me, and that when the alarm clock screeched out the message that it was now time to get up and get moving, it was not the most welcome sound in the world.
I confess, dear reader, that my alarm clock and I have a complicated relationship. I seldom need an alarm. I wake naturally very early in the morning. But on days such as today…? It promises to rouse me in the gentlest way possible, yet its shrill voice suggests otherwise. In my more charitable moments, I think of it as a faithful little prophet, crying out in the wilderness of my bedroom, “Prepare the way of the day!” In less charitable moments, I consider the theology of throwing it against the wall.
Alarm clocks, of course, are not biblical inventions. Nowhere in the Gospels do we read, “And lo, at the cock’s third snooze button, Peter arose reluctantly.” Yet the theme of waking and watchfulness is woven throughout Scripture. Paul tells the Romans: “You know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep” (Romans 13:11). Jesus warns his disciples to keep awake, for we do not know the hour when the Lord will come (Mark 13:35-37).
In other words, alarm clocks are deeply theological objects. They remind us that time is not infinite, that our days are numbered, and that each new morning is both gift and calling. They summon us not simply to consciousness, but to faithfulness.
But let’s be honest — sometimes, when the alarm rings, faithfulness looks a lot like fumbling for the snooze button. And here lies another little parable: how often do we, spiritually speaking, hit “snooze” on God’s call? We sense the nudge to prayer, the invitation to forgiveness, the tug toward justice — and we think, “just a few more minutes, Lord.”
And yet, by God’s mercy, the alarm sounds again. Grace persists, even when we are groggy and grumpy. The morning comes, even after the darkest night. And every sunrise is, in its way, a resurrection — an invitation to rise and walk again in newness of life.
So perhaps tomorrow morning, when the alarm shatters your dreams and insists you face the day, you might pause before the muttered complaints. Instead, you could whisper a prayer: “Thank you, Lord, for the gift of waking. Help me to rise not only from my bed, but into the life you call me to live.”
And if you still hit the snooze button? Well, remember: even disciples dozed off in Gethsemane. The miracle is that Christ woke them — and us — up again.
Prayer
Lord of mornings and Master of time,
thank you for the gift of waking,
for each new day that calls us into life with you.
When we are tempted to “snooze” your call,
stir us by your Spirit to rise with courage,
to watch with faith,
and to walk in the light of your love.
Through Jesus Christ, who is our dawn and our day.
Amen.