Reno UMC Sermon: 12-13-09

December 13, 2009
Rev. Judith Bither

Filled

This morning we come face-to-face with one of the hard sayings in the gospel. I can’t imagine that anyone came here today to be chastised by John the Baptist this close to Christmas. Again this Third Sunday of Advent, however, the lectionary delivers us to John and his challenging words from the wilderness. There is no getting to Bethlehem and the sweet baby in the manger without first hearing the rough prophet in the wilderness calling us to repentance.

At first glance it appears that this message is not for encouragement or consolation. Or is it? One commentary suggests: “Is it good news, evangelion, the gospel, to hear that a proper way to prepare for the Advent of the Humble Servant is to let the divine ax cut off our greed, self-indulgence, egoism, hypocrisy, and the like and throw them into the unquenchable fire of God’s judgment? “

Everything about this text is eschatologically pregnant. It is about the advent, the coming, appearance, arrival of something new, something unexpected. So let’s try reading and hearing it through that lens.

"The people were filled with expectation . . . " (v. 15a). John the Baptizer has just called them a "brood of vipers." He has just told them that their inherited religiosity was not going to do one thing for them. He has just answered some pretty direct questions with even more direct and challenging answers. When the people asked, "What then must we do?" John’s advice to all of them is very practical and pointed. His answers reflect his knowledge of the vocations and values of those who ask the question, and his answers all involve acts of mercy and justice. In response to the question “What then shall we do” John is clearly saying: share, keep no more than you need, be fair, treat others with care, and be honest.

And the next sentence is, "And the people were filled with expectation . . ." In the face of some very straight talk and some pretty powerful challenges, these people were filled with expectation:

They weren't running screaming from the banks of the Jordan back to Jerusalem.

They weren't sending a delegation to suggest that John tone it down a bit.

They weren't wandering off in search of a prophet less challenging, one whose words were more scholarly or a little gentler.

They weren't arguing with John's interpretation of the scriptures and the signs.

Every ordained clergy person I know would like to meet this crowd. They were filled with expectation.

One can only assume that it was good expectation or hopeful expectation since they stuck around to ask more questions and to wonder about whether John himself might be the Messiah. And when John tells them, Why, no. No, he isn't the Messiah, they don't abandon him to find the real thing somewhere else. Instead, they stay right there, filled with expectation.

I wonder what would need to happen to cause you to be filled with expectation. I mean a bigger expectation than the one that the service will end in about an hour. Remember that these people were not expecting Christmas; there was no Christmas, yet. These folk were expecting the world to come to an end. And John only confirmed this for them. He said, "Yes, indeed, the world as you know it is coming to an end. And if you want to participate in the world that is to come, you had better think about who God has asked you to be and how God has asked you to live." They might actually not only meditate on the fact that they are created in God's image, but actually act in such a way that they are living a God-life. Sound like a lot of dull, plodding work? "Oh, goodie, Joe, a chance to be holy!" Yet, in response to this imminent upheaval of the status quo, they were filled with expectation.

I'd like to propose something here. I'd like to propose that we give them a little credit and believe that this was not "deer in the headlights" expectation, but real, honest, joy-filled, eager anticipation expectation.

The evangelist who recorded this story assures us right there in verse 18 that everything we are hearing in this passage is "good news." Do you hear it as good news? Really?

Good news you could explain to your 16-year old son or grandson with the raging hormones;

or the Latino man who mows your lawn or shovels your walk?

Here's the point. The reason these women and children and men are filled with expectation and hope and joy is that they understand, maybe some of them for the first time, that the good news is not about them; it is about God. And the world to come isn't about them and their comfort and their agenda; it is about God's laughter and God's deep joy. The good news is not something to be fit into an already overfilled schedule; it is something that supersedes the schedule completely. It's not about some "then"; it is about right now.

John was telling these yearning folk that they can stop playing by the world's rules and play by God's rules instead. That, sisters and brothers, is good news. Because we are never going to "win" by the world's rules. We are never going to be:

young enough,

thin enough,

pretty enough,

fit enough,

rich enough,

happy enough,

famous enough,

healthy enough by the world's standards because as soon as someone is almost one of those things, the target moves, because the world's overarching rule is there is no such thing as "enough."

Look what happens when an individual lets power take over his perspective. Tiger Woods is just the latest example in the news. We are all vulnerable; yes, even pastors, priests, politicians and presidents can rationalize to themselves that certain things aren’t really a sin for them. The boundaries shift to suit our circumstances.

Into the midst of our life choices John the Baptist calls for repentance in order to bear the birth of Christ in our lives.

Fred Craddock reminds us of an old movie, The High and the Mighty. On a flight over the ocean, the pilot’s voice announces to the cabin, “There’s a problem. We cannot correct it. We are not going to make it. I tell you this so that you might prepare yourselves for the inevitable.”

An elegantly dressed woman begins to remove the diamond broach from her neck. The large ring from her finger. She peels off her false eyelashes, wipes the makeup from her face. A large scar is now visible on her forehead that the makeup had concealed. She is preparing herself for the end. She will go there as she really is.

Of course the flight is saved and they make it dramatically into the airport. But the woman has changed. Honesty was offered to her and she took it, gladly. She took off the mask and became whom she really was. That’s what John was preaching about in the desert!

At our best, in some shining moment of truth when we are forced to admit that we are not who we ought to be. Somebody like John holds up a mirror to us, and we see ourselves, as we are.I had this dramatically made very personal on Tuesday when I went to physical therapy for the first time. I signed in for the first time and the physical therapist came up to meet me in my sweat pants and T-shirt. She said, “Wow, you are really crooked and leaning to the right.” I was surprised. I felt bent-over, but I had no idea I was also leaning! She took me over to the full-length mirror and I was shocked by my reflection. It took another person pointing it out and holding up a mirror so I could really see myself as I was.

Although this was a physical crookedness, I thought of some spiritual things that also need attention. Chastened we get down on our knees and ask for God to take an ax and cut us down, or kindle a fire and purge us, asking for rebirth, cleansing, change. John the Baptizer promised the possibility of such a turnaround. Metanoia.

Get ready! God is coming. This was John’s message. I believe that nothing and nobody is beyond the reach of a gracious, forgiving God who comes to us, so that we might come to God with straight backs and masks off! John preached that. You can’t get to Christmas without first meeting him in the wilderness. Multitudes have. By God’s grace we will!

Jesus’ name and for his sake. Amen

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