Sermon Prepared for Messiah Lutheran Church
The Nativity of John the Baptist, Morning
Promise Service – 6/24/01
by Gregory S. Kaurin
Associate Pastor for Spiritual Care and Development
Sermon Text: Luke
1:57-80
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A Confession of Sins Based on Luke 3:
Leader: John the Baptist went through the whole area around the Jordan River. He was preaching to the people:
Music Leader 1: “Change your hearts and be baptized for the forgiveness of sins.”
Leader: People were coming to be baptized by John. John said to them,
Music Leader 2: “You are like poisonous snakes! Who told you to run away from the punishment, which is coming? You must do the things that will show that you have really changed your hearts. Don't start thinking this to yourselves: ‘Abraham is our father.’ I tell you, God could make children for Abraham from these rocks here.”
Leader: The people asked John,
All: “What should we do?”
Music Leader 1: “If you have two
shirts, share with the person who doesn't have one. If you have food, share that, too. Don't take more from anyone than what you should.”
Music Leader 2: “Don't force
people to give you their possessions.
Don't tell lies about anyone. Be
happy with what you are given.”
All: Heavenly Father, you have called us into a
challenging life. Like the people
around John the Baptist, we are not always sure how to live that life. Take the poison out of our hearts. Help us to rely on our Baptism for
forgiveness, give us courage to act, and help us trust you for the promised
fruits.
Words of
Assurance:
Leader: When Jesus said it, it was done. When he forgave sins, they were
forgiven. Today, he tells you that your
sins are forgiven. They are. Believe it!
All:
Amen!
Text: Luke 1: 68-79; Greg
Kaurin
sung to the tune, Worried Man Blues (“Do Lord, O Do
Lord”)
He has raised a mighty savior, David’s son, the Just.
Prophets told us how he’d save us bringing promised rest;
Then we’d serve God in righteousness.
You, my child, your name is John, and you will pave his way,
Lift the Light of our salvation, wash our sins away.
Then will break the dawn of mercy on dark paths of dust,
And we’ll serve God in righteousness.
You Lord, O you Lord, yes, you remembered me;
You Lord, O you Lord, yes, you remembered me;
You Lord, O you Lord, yes, you remembered me!
You picked me up from and out of the blue!
Sermon—
Up Out of the Tohu
wa’Bohu
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There is a central driving power in the universe that comes from God. Some of you might know what it is. God creates out of…? [Nothing.] Even when it is completely impossible, for God it is never impossible. Life from death! Birth from barrenness!
One of my favorite Hebrew phrases is in the second verse of the Bible. The phrase is: tohu wa’bohu. Say that: [TOE-hoo wa-BOE-hoo]. The second verse of the Bible says that the earth was a tohu wa’bohu. Tohu wa’bohu is often translated something like, “a formless void,” but that doesn’t quite capture it. A tohu wa’bohu is a vast shapeless nothing, absent of everything: no primal substance, not even any potential.
In other words, creation was completely impossible—with no substance to shape into existence. Tohu wa’bohu. Empty. Barren. …Except, I believe, God, his promises and his love for us already and eternally existed.
Even Greek mythology had a hint of this idea. Buried in their mythology was an attempt to explain the reason that all creation began. There was a great void-ness, sometimes called “Chaos.” But somehow (the myth can’t explain how or why) within the void there came into being something that allowed the rest of creation. It was called “the Prime Mover,” and the “Prime Mover” had a name. Long before Aphrodite or her son, little Eros, or Cupid, the “Prime Mover” was named, “Love.” Out of the “Chaos,” “Love” brought creation and creatures into existence, the power and love of the universe for creation and life. We Christians call him Jesus Christ.
Out of the tohu wa’bohu, the great-barren-nothing, God gives life. It’s a theme that starts in the Genesis of the Bible, and one to which we return time and again: Life in and from the barren wastelands; Life in and from barren wombs.
Like the story of creation, Luke began his gospel with two impossible births, both made possible only by the demanding promises of God. First, the angel Gabriel—we quickly remember his visit to the young, engaged Mary—but Gabriel first went to the old priest Zechariah.
While Zechariah was performing his priestly duties (while all the others waited outside the Holy Sanctuary, Zechariah was there by himself, burning incense), Gabriel came and announced that he and his wife, Elizabeth, would have a son. They would name him John, and he would be the one to lead many back to God. He would be a prophet with the spirit of Elijah, and would prepare God’s people.
Zechariah asked, “How can this be? We’re too old, and Elizabeth has always been barren!”
Gabriel rebuked Zechariah’s question with a sign. He told him that his speech would be taken away until these things happened, until the son was born and named “John.”
Finally, Zechariah came out from the Sanctuary. The people wondered what took him so long, but he couldn’t say. All Zechariah could do was make gestures.
He completed his term as priest and returned home to his old wife Elizabeth. Sure enough, she conceived.
Meanwhile, Gabriel went to visit a young woman named Mary. He told her that she would also get pregnant and bear a son, name him Jesus, and he would be the Son of the Most High!
Mary asked, “How can this be? I’m too young! I don’t even have a husband!”
“For God, nothing is impossible,” Gabriel answered. “Go ask your once-barren cousin Elizabeth; even now she is six months pregnant!”
Out from the tohu wa’bohu God had created again. They named him John, which meant: “God gives.” And with this name a clear message was given. He was not named after his priestly heritage, his father or grandfather. He would break with his family name and the priesthood that was his inheritance. Instead, he would become a prophet and would pave the way. John was Elijah returned.
I suppose it feels a little strange to speak of these birth stories now, near the end of June. When do we usually talk about John the Baptist and the visits of Gabriel? [Advent, or near Christmas.]
I don’t know if this was the real reason why the Church chose June 24th to remember John’s birth or not, but it sure fits. Watch this: it used to be that the winter solstice fell on December 25th, Christ’s birthday. What happens to the days following the winter solstice? [They get longer.] And the summer solstice used to fall exactly on June 24th. What happens to each day after the summer solstice? [They get shorter.]
It fits with what John the Baptist once said about himself and the One coming after him. John said, “He must increase, and I must decrease.” Think about it: “His days must get longer; mine must become shorter.” Even John’s birthday points to Christ!
John is the transition point. The people asked, “What will this child be?” John was God’s pivotal person in his plan to bring Life from Death. John and his whole person pointed to Christ. Doing so, he moved the universe from the ancient Promise—the Promise that was spoken by creation and throughout the Old Testament—to the Promise Fulfilled, to Jesus Christ. God had come among us, and had brought Life once again from the tohu wa’bohu!
“’What will this child be?’ they wondered, for they could sense that the hand of the Lord was with him.” John was not just a lunatic of our scriptural history. His voice must echo from the Jordan River Valley, and ring into our lives, because his work of pointing to Christ is not done!
“What will this child be?” John calling from the wilderness represents more than those who called before him. He is not just a voice crying out in the past, but John is all of us who still cry out from and into the tohu wa’bohu, the wilderness of life. John is we; John’s voice and mission are ours. Through our Baptisms, we have surged up from the tohu wa’bohu, and then God sends us on.
Here is what Zechariah sang to his infant son, John. Listen and see if it doesn’t call to us:
You, little child, you will go before the Lord, to prepare his way, to let others know about salvation through the forgiveness of sins. You will let them know that, because of God’s constant love, the rising Sun has come to us from on high, to give light to those who live in darkness and the shadow as dark as death, [to shine his light into the tohu wa’bohu], to guide our feet into his way of peace (Luke 1:76-79).
“You will let others know about salvation through the forgiveness of sins.” John’s voice and mission is ours.
So, how will we go about proclaiming and doing this mission? Well, for one, we need to get off the ground by believing it! You and I no longer live in the tohu wa’bohu! Sometimes, we’re so practiced at living in the dark, that we continue walking around with our eyes shut. We’re worried about what God thinks of us; we’re worried about what others think about us. We’re worried about ourselves—as if we’re still in the tohu wa’bohu! We’re not. We need to start believing God’s promises for us, enough to give us the peace and assurance about ourselves so that we can start thinking about the others who are still living in the tohu wa’bohu.
We can face each other, and we can face our fears. Sometimes it means swallowing your heart and stepping over the threshold. Maybe this fits: Many of you know about my dog, Katy. Well, last week, Katy was accused of escaping and killing my neighbor’s chickens. We found out about it second-hand.
A fellow and his wife were walking by when Pauline and I were on our way out to dinner. Katy had hopped up into the pickup to go along for the ride, and this fellow calls to us, “Hey, has your dog been coughing up chicken feathers?”
“No,” I said. “Why would she?”
“Well, you’d better be watching out for a guy with shotgun; your neighbor down the street said a whitish German shepherd’s been killing his chickens. He’s ready to shoot your dog.”
“But,” and I pointed to Katy, “I don’t own a ‘whitish German shepherd.”
“Well, he described your dog.”
Pauline and I didn’t know what to do or think. This just didn’t fit Katy! There was a small twinge of fear that she was some kind of Jekyll and Hyde and was escaping out of the yard, ravaging a chicken yard, and returning—all against her personality and without leaving any clues.
Mostly, though, we worried about this chicken-bereaved neighbor (and listen to how I already pictured him). We imagined that he was some over-all wearing, back-woods weirdo who might come to our house when we weren’t around to shoot or poison our falsely-accused-and-beloved dog, Katy, our baby! Over dinner, Pauline and I started planning how we’d protect and watch her for the next few weeks. We even wondered about needing to move! We had trouble sleeping that night and could think of little else.
The next day, I took Katy for her check-up with Dr. Eric Schneider, and began relaying the accusation and our fears. He listened empathetically and finally asked, “Have you tried talking to your neighbor?”
“Uh…no?” Inside I was thinking, “What? Talk to that nut? What good would that do? I mean this weirdo raises chickens, goats and peacocks right here in the middle of town. There’s no telling what someone like that might do! He might…he might…” All kinds of horrible newspaper headlines filled my thoughts.
But against my fears, I decided to try it. Right after Katy’s checkup, I drove to the house. I stepped over the threshold, walked through his gate and rang the door. A smiling older gentleman answered the door. I told him what I’d heard from this other fellow, and that I had my dog in the car, …if he wanted to see if she really was his “chicken-killer.”
He got on some sandals, came out to the car, but before even getting close he said, “No way. Not even close!” I can’t tell you how relieved I was.
And humbled. After just a few words with this man, all my perceptions and imaginations about him were blown away. He’s lived there his whole life, 73 years. He said, “The city doesn’t like it, but I only keep the animals here for the children in the neighborhood. They like to come to feed and pet them.” He said this while he lovingly patted his goat that’d come up to the fence for attention. Until Dr. Schneider suggested otherwise, I had been ready to live with my fears and stereotypes, to go on walking in fear and misperception with my eyes closed.
We Christians need to live more honestly and fearlessly. Living in suspicious melodrama allows things to escalate. Sometimes it causes what we fear to become reality. When we face the things that scare us, most of the time this is what we will discover—that we were wrong and afraid of our own imaginations.
The truth is, the things that we’re afraid of can sometimes hurt us. We can be hurt and rejected. However, I believe that the greater truth is that happier lives risk being hurt. Those who avoid hurt, don’t. They get hurt more. They live lives full of fear; they allow themselves to be false victims of perceived dangers. Being Christians, we have nothing that we need to fear. We are able, we can, and we need to live freed from the tohu wa’bohu.
So, look at the people God places in your life. Love them with action and heart. Be honest, fearlessly honest with them and yourself. Share your thoughts, your beliefs. Listen patiently to others. Practice living with your eyes open.
This alone is enough to change others’ lives. This alone is enough to carry out John’s mission. Living like this is enough to become pivotal people in God’s plan. We can help bring others out of the tohu wa’bohu, to let them know about salvation through the forgiveness of sins. Amen.
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