Lectionary Texts: Zephaniah 3:14-20,
Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18, 21-22
Last
month, Dhilanthi and I voted for the first time in our lives. Since we turned
18, everytime there was an election in Sri Lanka we were out of the country,
and then for the past 20 years we were here, but ineligible to vote because we
were not citizens. This year we became citizens – so we voted. The one
candidate that I thought came even remotely close to fighting for justice for
ordinary people and against the hijacking of the American political process by
the wealthy corporate interests was Ralph Nader. If anyone came close to being
a revolutionary, a subversive who would turn the system upside down, at least
go down trying, it was Nader. I know, we don’t want to upset the apple cart – but that’s really the perspective of those
of us who have it good. People who are struggling, people who don’t have it
good are the ones that want change. I had no illusions that when push came to
shove, neither George Bush nor Al Gore, both privileged men of the American aristocracy
would stand with the poor and the disenfranchised. Even though I knew that
about the candidates, when it came time to vote, I voted in the name of
political pragmatism. I voted for the second best, for the lesser of two evils.
I took a gamble and this week I lost.
It all
happened in the midst of Advent. Just so you know, in spite of all the
Christmas music we hear around us, the lights, the trees, and decorations in
people’s houses, the advertising on TV and malls packed with people running
around to get their gifts and cards and things, its not Christmas yet. We are
still in Advent. Christmas season begins on December 25th and goes
on until January 6th, which is Epiphany. In the Christian calendar
that’s when we are supposed to sing Christmas carols, send greetings, put up
decorations and give gifts. Advent is the time of preparation, but its hard to
spend time in prayer, in confession and repentance, its hard to work towards
the raising of the valleys and bringing down the mountains, or the making straight
the crooked paths, when we are inundated by the noises of Christmas. So, I give
in. I choose the second best. I go along with the commecialism of Christmas –
after all they’ve been preparing for this since Halloween!
Now, today is the third Sunday of Advent and is traditionally called gaudete (Joy) Sunday. It makes sense then that we read about Paul telling the folks at Philippi to “Rejoice in the Lord always,” and then for emphasis adds, “and again I say, rejoice.” Paul writing to his favorite congregation born in the midst of terrible persecution and continuing to be persecuted, says to them Rejoice. You know, these people were facing such tremendous hardship, that it would have been enough if they barely kept themselves from being depressed. When they met for worship in someone’s home, they would cringe everytime there was a knock on the door. The Roman police would come and take the men away – these were husbands and fathers and brothers. So there were many widows and fatherless in the early Christian communities. If they had barely kept themselves from being depressed, that would have been enough. But Paul is emphatic. Rejoice! He commands. Rejoice in the Lord always and again I say rejoice. This rejoicing is not in denial of the reality of the persecution. They lived that reality. This rejoicing is I think a defiant rejoicing. It is the kind of rejoicing that happened that night when Paul and Silas bruised and beated and were thrown in the inner dungeon of a prison cell began to sing at the midnight hour. That was a defiant song. The kind of song that the people of faith are called upon to sing. And to the rumble of Paul’s baritone, and Silas’ brassy tenor, the foundations of the prison house began to crumble. That’s the kind of rejoicing that Paul knows. No, Paul does not want them to be barely above depression. He does not want a second best for them. He wants for them a full-bodied experience of their faith. So, he says, look persecution in the eye – and rejoice, again I say, rejoice.
Why would persecuted people rejoice? The Lord is near. When the cops come to arrest you because they are religiously profiling you, you don’t need to be harsh or arrogant. Let your gentleness be known to everyone, the Lord is near. And don’t worry about anything. Don’t let the stresses of your life, of the oppression you feel get to you. But in everything in prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your needs be made known to God. And the shalom, -- the fullness of God’s peace, not a half of it, not the second best, but the fullness, the wholeness, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
And then on this gaudete, or
joyful Sunday, we also hear from the
prophet Zephaniah. He prophesied, just decades before the Babylonians attacked
Judah, he takes the religious establishment to task for its corrupt practices.
The people of Judah will be taken away to exile, but a faithful remnent will
remain in Israel. Some, particularly the educated and professional people were forced to go, but many others
chose to go. There was the promise of good things in Babylon. Zephaniah would
say that they chose the second best. The faithful remnent that remained in
Jerusalem chose the best. Zephaniah is obviously pleased with them. God says, when
I pour out my indignation upon them, that is, the Babylonians, all the heat of
my anger, on that day, you shall not be put to shame. And when the Lord comes,
Jerusalem will be restored. So, at the end of the book there is this hymn of
exultation, that we read at our Call to Worship. Rejoice and exult with all
your heart. Did you notice, why? The LORD has taken away the
judgments against you, he has turned away your enemies. The king of Israel, the
LORD, is in your midst; you shall fear disaster no more. And then, At
that time I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you; for I will make
you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore
your fortunes before your eyes, says the LORD.
Now we can stop
there. After all, we can say, that’s what this season is supposed to be about –
all good cheer and holiday exuberance. We might say, it is enough for members
of the Philippian church to not be depressed. Or, it is enough if the people of
Judah said, let’s go to Babylon and let’s try to survive there. We might even
say, we know that’s the second best, but that’s OK. So let’s stop there. But
there’s a problem you see. There is this thing with the gospel reading this
week. I know this is a problem for us, but I also know that God does not want
the second best for us.
So when we get to the gospel
for this week, John the Baptist is doing what John the Baptist does best -
lambasting the tar out of us: Even now the axe is lying at the root of the
trees; every tree therefore that does not bear fruit is cut down and thrown
into the fire. And once again we are reminded that the God who is coming is not
Santa Claus "who knows whether you are naughty or nice" but Jesus,
God with us, the one who demands that we turn around and follow him. That
turning around is repentance. We talked about that last week. Repentance is not
about getting the second best. Repentance is about going the whole hog.
Repentance is a difficult word. It is difficult because
it requires hard work. I want you to know, that repentance is not just
confession, when you go to God and confess your sin and seek God's forgiveness.
That's one part of it -- but certainly not all of it. Repentance (metanoia) is
turning around. Its like you are going in one direction and because of God's
grace at work in you, you turn around – 180 degrees. You go in an entirely
different direction -- in the direction of the cross. Turning a life around is
a very hard thing. If you've never really tried to do that, you can't imagine
how hard it can be. Obviously most of us would prefer if did not have to do
that. And we can go on living our nice respectable Christian lives. And there
are lots of people who make their professions of faith and are baptized and
there has never been any real repentance. And then much later in the Christian
lives they come across issues of sin, oppression, spiritual blocks that make
them settle for the second best and they get immobilized, because repentance is
so hard. So they say, well, I made a profession of faith, I was baptized, once
saved, always saved, so I am OK.
"You brood of Vipers!" screams John. "You
snakes! Don't just come slithering down here to be baptized thinking its your
insurance policy. Repent! Turn around! Change Course! Head toward Christ."
There is only one way to avoid the coming judgment --Vs. 8 "Bear the
fruits worthy of repentance.” Talk is cheap, he is saying. If you have truly
repented, there will be ways to see how your lifestyle, the things you do, the
decisions you make, the relationships your build will yield fruit for the
kingdom. Now, they are stunned by this, you see. And aren’t we stunned by this!
Religious people often are. We come to church to participate in the worship and
ritual, just so that they would have an insurance policy, the second best thing
– we do this, and the church let’s us do that! John does not mince words.
And
then he whacks them another one. He denies them an esteemed, long-standing,
ethnic perk. "Do not again say to yourselves, We have Abraham as our
ancestor." No matter what one's pedigree, or how conscientious or "by
the book" one's behavior, without fruits God's judgment is imminent. You
think being Abraham's child can save you, think again, "I tell you God is
able from these stones to raise up children." Now the message takes on a seriously ominous tone. "Even now
the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not
bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire." The judgment
process has already actually begun.
"What
then shall we do?" the crowd asks. The anxious crowd is given several
examples of "fruits" worthy of repentance. For instance, sharing bare
essentials of life -- food and clothing -- are basic "fruits." But,
you know, these are things any religious Jew would normally do. Tax Collectors
and Soldiers, two universally vilified groups voluntarily approach John seeking
specific instructions from him on how to bear fruit in their corrupt lives.
Again, the answers are pretty basic. -- to collect only what is owed (no
"extra" taxes for the tax collector!) and to resist the temptation to
add to the low military wages by shaking down the people. Aren’t they great
answers. And we ought to ask ourselves, what then shall we do and reflect on
the answer we might get. But that’s not a difficult answer. Anyone you could
have told them that. Is John the Baptist settling for the second best?
Let me offer you a suggestion. When the people ask
"What then shall we do?" the focus of what John is saying is
beginning to shift already from the content of the message to the identity of
the messenger. Those examples of fruits were important, useful perhaps for many
to root them in the tradition of caring for people, but John is keen to move on
to his real focus here, his successor. John recognizes that he himself is the
second best. The one yet to come is much more "powerful" than John,
capable of offering baptism not just of water, but of the Holy Spirit and
fire." Steeped in repentance himself, John insists he is not worthy even
to untie the sandals of this Coming One. And when that Messiah comes, he will
have a winnowing fork in his hand, "to clear his threshing floor and to
gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable
fire."
This is the trouble with reading the Bible,
you see. We can’t just be satisfied with the second best. Instead of finding
joy through some positive feelings advocated by pop-psychology or the mindless
advice to "Don’t Worry, Be Happy," the Bible tells us that joy is
what happens when we respond to that which God demands of us. And what God
demands, in the words of John the Baptist, is nothing less than
"repentance" a 180 degree turning around. What the gospel is trying
to do for us today is to release us from the counterfeit joy of popping another
pill or turning up the music. Real joy is what happens when we confront our sin
and turn toward God's redeeming love.
But all this talk is cheap. Today we will see this
demonstrated -- acted out and lived out. We will see it two sequences. First,
in the Lord’s Supper, we will celebrate our Lord who did not settle for the
second best, but went all the way to the cross. And in celebrating that, we are
seeking his grace and his power for us to seek God’s best for us ourselves – to
repent, turn around from our sin and sinful lifestyle. Second, we will see it
in the baptism of Lisa, Jasmine, Meghan and Kurt, we will see dramatized how
this turning around has occurred in these our sisters and brother. Their
baptism, physically allowing someone to take them and dunk them in a pool of
water demonstrate in the most powerful way a 180 degree turn they have taken in
their lives, a turn that looks directly to the cross of Jesus. And a commitment
to live a life or repentance, because God knows how we all need course corrections.
This is the gospel drama
enacted before our own eyes. Your participation, I pray to God would reflect
your own commitment to repentance, to your course correction to lead toward the
cross. It is in that journey that we truly experience joy. Its gaudete or
joyful Sunday. God does not want you to have the cheap second best joy of
commercialized Christmas. God wants for you joy that comes through repentance
and a new life.