Sermon prepared for
By Gregory S. Kaurin, pastor
text: Luke 3:7-18
sermon:
Share, Play Fair, and No
Pushing
John
the Baptist is one of my wife’s favorite Biblical figures, and I can really see
why. He rose out of the desert with strange
clothes and diet, kind of like a Mad Max character. A mixed crowd gathered around: Jews, tax
collectors, alongside of soldiers, Pharisees and others. And his preaching was less than
pastoral. He really let them have it,
didn’t he?
They
came from all over to see him, to watch his show, and get baptized and blessed
by John. “Brood of vipers,” he called
the crowd. “Who warned you to flee God’s
wrath?” Well, the answer is that he
warned them, and was warning them.
“Bear
fruit worthy of repentance,” John said.
What he meant was that it’s got to be real. It’s not formula, not incantation, not enough
to just come here to get dunked in the river
It’s
got to be real, heart, mind and soul.
Old grudges, left behind.
Addictions, hard hearts, soft morals, left behind. We’ve got to bear real fruits worthy of true repentance,
not once, but every time.
It’s
not quite enough just to say we’re sorry.
Repentance means a desire and commitment to never do it again. That’s the law. There is no hedging, no exceptions or
gradation.
“Even
now,” John went on, “the ax is at the roots, and is ready cull every tree
without good fruit, and burn it in the fire.”
That
was harsh! And the crowds heard him. They heard and the hair on their necks went
straight up, because they realized, maybe for the first time, that God is more
than a religion, more than laws and stories in scrolls, more than rituals or an
idea. They felt the weight of God’s holy
presence, and the weakness of their faith.
They
heard John. And in their fear, they came
up to him in groups, “What then should we do, Teacher?” At this point they were probably willing to
do anything. Tell us to climb an
impossible mountain, send us on a holy quest, tell us to build the largest
shrine, or command us to fall on our knees to fast and pray to God night and
day for seven days straight.
And
look at John’s answers. Compared to
their huge fears, his answers were so simple.
The crowds asked, “What would you have us do? What does God want from us?” And his answer is, “If you’ve got more than
one coat, share with someone who doesn’t have anything.” “Share.”
The
tax collectors clamored up next. “What
about us? Shall we give up our
profession, go to seminary and become priests and holy monks?” “No,” John answered them. “Collect no more than you are supposed
to.” “Be honest and tell the truth. Play fair.”
“What
about us?” the soldiers wondered. “Is
there any hope for us? Should we lay
down our swords and shields? Shall we go
back to whatever rocks and peninsulas we came from?” And John answered them, “Be satisfied; do not
steal money by force, or false arrests; don’t misuse your weapons, station or your
power. No pushing.”
Pastor
Robert Fulghum was not the first to realize that the greatest moral lessons
were taught when we were children in Kindergarten.
John
the Baptist would agree, the real lessons for getting on in life were not math,
geography, or literature, as important as those are. The real important lessons that God would
have us learn in living together: After loving him, love others: Share, play
fair, and no pushing.
If
you have enough, and know someone is in need, then share.
Don’t
abuse the loopholes and systems; if others will suffer at your gain, even if
those others are huge amoral corporations or governments, no excuse. Play fair.
Be honest.
And
if you have authority or ability or station, don’t abuse it just to satisfy
your own fears, anger or cravings.
Parents, spouses, teachers, pastors, soldiers and governments: do not
harm those you are called to protect, those you promised to protect in body and
dignity. No pushing.
Simple
answers, but don’t let that fool you.
They are as hard to follow as climbing the highest mountain, harder to keep
than any Herculean task. It means
letting go of all the selfish fears and desires we’ve had since childhood. The adult world really is just tall grade
school. It’s the same melodrama, the
same personalities, fears and weaknesses.
I
watch some of these reality shows. Well,
I don’t watch them, I hear about them… Honestly, I’ve accidentally watched one
or two of them… there are the young twenty-somethings stuck in houses or on
islands together, blinds dates, etc. on and on, but I also see the stuff around
me, and I look at my own actions, and hear the stuff that comes out of my mouth
and I’m convinced now, absolutely convinced that this really is tall grade
school, and I still haven’t learned what Mrs. Rausch tried to teach me in
Kindergarten, God bless her soul.
Only
now, frightening to realize, we’ve got bigger toys, more responsibilities, and smaller
people to care for. More people can get forever
hurt by our decisions and actions, and it can last for generations after
us. We are not our own person, and never
were. God gave us to each other and
said: “Share, play fair and no pushing.”
John
finished by saying, “I can baptize you with water,” John said, “but we all need
the One who comes after me. Only he can
truly clear your lives of the chaff, and burn your sins clean.”
John
took them one more step. The crowd could
not depend on him, not on his baptism, preaching or advice. “I am not the One,” he said, “The One who is
coming is more powerful than I am. My
baptism is only water; it’s a sign of your own desire to change. But his is a baptism that will purify you
with the fire of God’s Holy Spirit. Only
his baptism will truly burn away your sins and guilt and leave you pure.”
What
is God’s fire? There is a huge and
important difference between the fires of hell and God’s fire. Hellfire is about destruction and death. God’s fire, whenever the Bible mentions it,
God’s fire is a purifying agent. It
cleans, even heals, gives life and leaves a person or a people new and whole.
God’s
fire is the fire of his love and passion, his will to be our God. It is the power of his forgiveness. In us, in baptized Christians, God’s fire is
the residing forgiveness, in us that allows us each to pick up and practice our
faith, not in fear of a harsh and demanding God, but out of love for a God who
rules by grace, and whose justice is above everything else, above personal
piety and purity, God’s justice is about feeding and caring for the poor,
visiting the lonely, forgiving the sinner, tending the sick and comforting the
dying and the grieving.
John
boiled all the commands down, gave the people some direction, share, play fair,
and don’t push. Then he finished by
telling them, “But you still need Jesus Christ.”
Nothing
has changed since then. We need Jesus
Christ. Come, Emmanuel.