Zephaniah 3:14-20, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18, Canticle 9
John, the unlikely bearer of good news, is the one who from the wilderness, not the seats of power, announces the coming of the kingdom. Prepare, the world is about to change. You are about to change. Remember, the repentance that John calls us to is not about feeling bad or good or even shame, repentance is a change of direction in mind and action. It is a change of perspective accompanied by bearing fruit. John describes specifically what should happen. John addresses the question that the crowds, the tax collectors, and the soldiers ask; what should we do? And John’s answer is do something. Do what you know is right, share your warm clothing and your food. Make sure you take only what you need, no more. And know what is enough. This is the good news that John proclaimed to the people.
John’s baptism was not exactly the same as Jesus’ baptism. John’s baptismal call was to repentance, turn around, don’t be doing the same stuff you’ve been doing all along. This is necessary John tells us, and then John says Jesus will add another layer. Jesus will baptize with the Holy Spirit. You see, change is hard, the change that John calls those who were at the Jordan River to is hard, the change that we are called to is hard. But Jesus brings along the Holy Spirit, Jesus is the one who says, with the Holy Spirit you can do hard things, and maybe even impossible things.
Look at the gloriously impossible things that have already begun to happen in Luke’s story. We are reminded of the glorious impossibility of Sarah, who in her very old age laughed to know that she would finally bear a child, and not just any child, but one who would be the father of nations. We are reminded of the glorious impossibility of Elizabeth, who in her old age also would bear a son, a son who announces the Messiah. And we are reminded of the glorious impossibility of Mary, who should not be pregnant at all, who was spared stoning for being pregnant, and who bore Jesus, the love that would cause her heartache and the love that walks with us through this life.
Luke’s story is about turning, about change, about transformation and this glorious impossibility that Jesus brings to all of us who follow. But it’s not just about our own personal turning, which is indeed necessary, but it is also about the turning of our communities. Diana Butler Bass, a well known contemporary writer on the church in society, wrote in the Huffington Post, "Christians recollect God's ancient promise to Israel for a kingdom where lion and lamb will lie down together. The ministers preach from stark biblical texts about the poor and oppressed being lifted up while the rich and powerful are cast down, about society being leveled and oppression ceasing. Christians remember the Hebrew prophets and long for a Jewish Messiah to be born. The Sunday readings extol social and economic justice, and sermons are preached about the cruelty of ancient Rome and political repression. Hymns anticipate world peace and universal harmony."
Diana Butler Bass describes advent, and yet we want easy, and romantic, and nostalgic. But that’s not what the story tells us. John calls us to be ready for the one who is coming, the one who has come, the one who turns the world. God in our midst, Emmanuel, the baby born in a barn, the one who shows us that Love wins and calls us to deepen our commitment to loving one another, calls us to deepen our commitment to compassion and to mercy.
These winter days are dark. They are short, the light is with us for only a few hours. These winter days are dark, there is much violence and sadness that may lead us to believe that the light really has gone out of the world. But Advent reminds us that the Light is never extinguished. Advent reminds us that even if it seems dark, the Light is there, and the Light will brighten even the darkest corners of our world when. Advent reminds us that God walks with us, God does not take away our sadness and our pain, but God walks with us through the sadness and the pain.
We live in this in-between time, in this time of the already but not yet. We live in this time where we tell the story of Jesus birth, we await Jesus’ birth, and we imagine the end, God's fulfillment of all time when the lion lays down with the lamb. This is where our hope is. It is in the already but not yet. We know what God has done in creation, we await what God will do in creation, and we live our lives in God's grace. There's no guarantee of happiness, there's no guarantee that pain and sadness will not visit us, there's no guarantee of prosperity. But there is love, there is hope, there is joy.
So what do we do in this dark time, what do we do as we wait for the Light to fill the room? What do we do as all around us we hear hate filled speech? What do we do when we hear calls to exclude and mark the ones who are not like us? What do we do when those who seek power rile us up by spewing fear? We don't do nothing. Waiting is not doing nothing. We love one another as God has loved us. We speak out, and we live out, against exclusion and hate. We speak out and we live out, our belief that God loves all of God’s creation, heck, God loves us, it’s certain that God loves all the others as well. We stand up with and for our neighbors, the neighbors who live next door and the neighbors who live across the world.
We hold one another, we listen to each other, we bring light into each other's lives, we do not wait alone. We are God's household, you, and me, and all of us. We bear God's light and love into. We bring healing and wholeness to those whose lives are torn apart. We bear the Good News that Love wins.
As you know, there's always a lot of chatter about wishing folks a Merry Christmas at this time of the year. One of the problems with that conversation is that it misses the point. The point being that we are not at Christmas yet. And when we finally get to Christmas, and it's time to wish one another Merry Christmas, many are already tired of the whole thing, and their Christmas trees and Christmas wrappings are in the trash.
We live in Advent because we human beings need to spend time waiting and preparing for this event that turns the world, this event that brings light into the darkness, this event that makes the first last and the last first. We can't just jump into it. We can't just jump from Halloween to Christmas without some time to be immersed in the mystery of incarnation; this mystery that we struggle so to understand, this mystery that seems unreasonable and impossible, this mystery that takes leaps with our imaginations. In Advent, we get glimpses of God’s inbreaking, but it takes time for that mystery to grow in our hearts, and in our souls, and in our lives. It takes space for God who is with us, to sit down next to us and teach us that Love wins. It takes quiet to hear the voice of the one crying in the wilderness, and to hear the voice that calls us to turn, the voice that calls us to love one another. Amen.
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