Second Sunday of Advent
Grace be to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Every year on the second Sunday in Advent, we hear from John the Baptist. Every year, we hear him preaching to the people, announcing the coming of the messiah. Each of our four gospels includes the ministry and message of John. And yet, I don’t believe I have ever seen a nativity scene that includes John.
We read about the Wise Men from the East only every third year, but they are usually included. Why not John?
Probably because John is too raw, too abrasive, too confrontational. His call to repentance and his threat of axes and unquenchable fire don’t mesh with the peace and love we expect to hear about at Christmas time.
This year, I want to ponder John the Baptist’s message. What is he preaching and why?
John is all about repentance. Twice in our gospel reading, he urges people to repent, to bear fruit worthy of repentance. We don’t talk about repentance much anymore. Usually, when we hear the word, we think of saying ‘sorry’.
One time, I visited the home of a family with young children. The four-year-old boy had done something wrong and was sent to his room. After a while, he came out and bowed his head and said, “Mom, I am ready to repent.” He apologized and was forgiven and went to play with the other kids.
The exchange sounded a bit harsh to me. It also reveals how we have forgotten a major part of what repentance really is. There is more to repentance than apologizing. Repenting means realizing that what we did was wrong, expressing our regret, asking for forgiveness, and then changing how we act. Repentance means truly trying to mend our ways. It is a change in direction, in habits, in priorities.
John urges his listeners to repent in order to prepare themselves for the coming kingdom of heaven. Once the messiah comes and brings that kingdom with him, everything will change.
In our Old Testament reading, the Prophet Isaiah paints a picture of how things will be different when the messiah establishes his kingdom. There will be righteousness. The poor and meek will be taken care of with equity. There ill be no more hurt or destruction. Even animals like wolves and lambs will get along peacefully, and little children can live without fear of deadly snakes.
We might say to ourselves, “Yeah, right, as if that would ever happen.” And yet, this image of the peaceable kingdom of God pulls at our heartstrings. It sounds so amazing. How blessed life would be in such a place.
By giving us this vision, Isaiah reminds us of God’s desire for this world. Isaiah also shakes us up, so that we would realize that what is going on in our world now is not godly, is not normal, is not life-giving.
It is not normal or godly that elementary school children have to practice how to behave when an active shooter invades their school.
It is not normal or godly that in this extremely rich nation, countless people are homeless and one in five children is food-insecure.
It is not normal or godly that our climate is changing so drastically; that the documentary “High Tide in Dorchester” can show a man in his 60s standing thigh-deep in water at the very spot where, as a child, he had played baseball; that poor island nations who contributed nothing to the climate crisis are suffering greatly from rising sea levels.
It is not normal or godly that a mining company in Appalachia can illegally cut a road and in the process dislodge a 100 pound bolder that rolls down the mountain and crashes through the wall of a double-wide trailer and kills a three-year-old boy taking a nap, and nobody reacts. The regional and national news don’t pick up the story because it happened to “white trash”, and the mining company doesn’t get fined because everyone depends on them to make a living.
It is not normal or godly that funding for schools gets cut, that refugee children were placed in cages, that in proportion to their segment of the population way too many black people are in prison, that synagogues and mosques get vandalized, that running for higher office has become a millionaire’s game, that so many of our elected leaders are facing lawsuits, that family farms are being squeezed out of business by agricultural super-farms, that elderly people are lonely on this crowded planet, that the pressures of our culture increases the numbers of people suffering depression or anxiety.
‘Wake up!’, John and Isaiah are saying. This is not normal or godly. This needs to stop. This needs to be cut off, down to a stump. This needs to be threshed, all the useless chaff removed and burned.
In order for all that to change, we need to change. We need to repent. We need to take honest stock of what we are doing and discern if it is in sync with God’s vision of the kingdom of heaven.
This is really overwhelming, isn’t it? A single newspaper or newscast reminds us just how much is awry in our communities and nation and world, how much is not godly or normal. The danger is that we get so overwhelmed we resign and do nothing.
Here is a parable that has always encouraged me:
A man was walking along a beach that was littered with thousands of starfish that had been washed ashore by the high tide. As he walked, he came upon a young boy who was eagerly throwing starfish back into the sea, one after another.
Puzzled, the man looked at the boy and asked what he was doing. Without looking up from his task, the boy simply replied, “I’m saving these starfish, Sir.”
The man chuckled and said, “Son, there are thousands of starfish and only one of you. What difference can you make?”
The boy picked up a starfish, tossed it into the water, and turning to the man said, “I made a difference to that one!”
We cannot fix all the ungodly things going on. But we can do something.
Traditionally, the season of Advent is just like the season of Lent: a season of repenting and fasting prior to a major celebration of God’s love in Jesus Christ. This Advent season, I encourage us all to repent of one thing in our private life and one thing in our communal life.
In your private life, what could you change in order to move closer to God’s vision, in order to be more open for the kingdom of heaven to touch you?
Maybe it is shutting off all screen devices at dinner so you can talk to the people around the table, share their joys and sorrows, and grow closer in your relationships.
Maybe it is foregoing the habit of vegging in front of the TV every night, watching often mindless shows until we drag ourselves to bed. What other, more meaningful, more lifegiving activities could we use that time for?
Maybe it is evaluating our spending habits and making a commitment to greater generosity, moving closer to the Biblical call to tithe, to give away 10% of our income, so God can use it to bless people and shape the world into the peaceable kingdom God desires for all people.
In terms of our communal lives, where could we change our behavior and bring it in tune with God’s vision?
Maybe we can reach out to one lonely adult in our neighborhood or church that we commit to visit or call. It would make a world of difference to that one.
Maybe we can be more diligent about our recycling and about using less plastic, doing our part to decrease the amount of garbage that is polluting this world.
Maybe we can search for charities and organizations that do a great job fighting against hunger or for equality, and support their work by showing up or sending a donation.
Repenting will demand effort and courage. John tells us what will give us that needed courage and will-power:
First, it is the hope for the coming kingdom of God. Reading Isaiah’s prophecy and believing that at Christ’s return all this will come about, gives us hope for the future and mobilizes us to get up and do our part to make the vision become reality.
Second, John announces that the coming One will baptize with fire and spirit. We all have received these gifts in our baptism. God gave us the Holy Spirit. God set us on fire.
One of my colleagues has a chant he does with his congregation in every worship service: “We’ve got spirit – yes, we do!” Sounds like a cheer before a big game, doesn’t it? And that analogy isn’t a bad one. Before a game, we rally with likeminded people and chant our fighting song and dream about winning. We are filling one another with spirit and are setting one another on fire.
Worship does the same thing. Here we rally with likeminded people, a people united through our baptism into Christ. Here, we sing our songs together to lift our spirit. Here, we share the vision of the kingdom of heaven and remind ourselves how amazing it will be. Here, we are set on fire with eagerness to do our part to transform this world towards something God would call normal and godly.
John and Isaiah shake us up today with the call to repentance. As you repent this holy season, may God bless you with spirit and fire; may your repenting open you up to welcome the Messiah; and may your repenting become a blessing to you and all God’s people. Amen.