December 9, 2018 | Rev. Wayne Whitney
No matter how long troubled and turbulent times persist, history has taught us that there always comes a thing which representsthe “end of the line”—that final punctuation point of the sentence which IS history that puts a flourish on all that has gone before. In our gospel reading this morning we hear Luke tell us of a 1stcentury Judean preacher called John. This John who we call “the Baptist”—although he wasn’t a Baptist but he WAS a baptizer— was the “end of the line” for Judaism as it was know. John shook up the religion to its very core telling people that change is a coming and its coming fast. And John gets a whole lot of shrift in the Gospels—Mark’s Gospel starts talking about John right away saying that John’s preaching “WAS” the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The fourth gospel writer John (no relation) starts his gospel with a beautiful lyrical prologue about the eternal Word of God and it is interrupted with prose inserts about the baptizing prophet John. This prophet/preacher John announced the coming in flesh of this Word of God.
But it is Luke’s gospel that goes so far as to actually narrate John’s birth. He introduces us to his parents Elizabeth andZechariah—complete with an “old-aged” conception story thatrivals those of iconic forebears like Isaac and Samson and Samuel. Luke paints us a picture of John as a prophet of God,who is “the end of the line.” This prophet, the last of the Jewishprophets, this harbinger of truth, was the miracle son of elderly parents in a priestly family. And priestly families were dedicated to the cultic heart of the people. They performed the rituals at the temple; they offered the sacrifices to God; they alone were allowed to intercede on behalf of the people to be the conduit ofGod’s grace. John’s mother Elizabeth was a descendent Aaron—a priestly family of the tribe of Levi—and she herself was married to a priest named Zechariah. (That Canticle we read as the Psalm of the Day is from Luke Chapter 1 and it is the Song of Zechariah.) All these stories about the parents of the prophetJohn are unique to Luke’s Gospel—apparently, he alone of all the Gospel writers found all of this, well, interesting.
One thing we’ve always got to keep in mind when we read about John’s baptizing in the early chapters of the four gospels is that the earliest church struggled with cadres of congregations who,years after Christ’s work, were still devotees of this John. But Luke’s story is intended to give John his due as a big voice in the prophetic history of God’s dealing with his people—and not just a big voice, but the final word in a series of words over the centuries about what God is finally going to do to save his people. Yes, John is the final prophet of the pre-christian centuries that we read about in the Hebrew Bible, what we call the Old Testament.
What is the real kicker about this John is that he is the “wild child”of his priestly-lineaged parents. Think about it. Where is Johnwhen we’re told that the “Word of God” came to him? Was it in thetemple? There’s good precedent for him to receive his inspirationfrom serving in the temple like the big-shot prophets—Isaiah andEzekiel centuries before him. Was John following in his father’sfootsteps when he received his vocational directive? NO! Where WAS he? He was in the wilderness—he wasn’t even close to the temple. John was the preacher’s kid who turned his back on whathe was supposed to be in order to receive a fresh word that wouldbecome the last word. John didn’t take to following the culticnorms of the day and he fashioned for himself a new way of serving God, not by becoming a priest like his father, but by being the nemesis of the priests—remember, the prophets and the priests were frequently at loggerheads in the hundreds of years before the advent of Christ. John is the prophet who is produced by priestly parents and he dares to proclaim a new way, a fresh way to experiencing God.
What is that way? The way to experiencing the love andforgiveness that God has to bring us is repentance. It’s important to make a distinction here—it’s clear that the salvation that Godoffers us through Christ is for ALL people—Luke says it right herein the last sentence of today’s Gospel reading where he says that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God”—but there’s a differencebetween what we’ll get and what we’ll experience!
Our experience of God is frequently occluded—that means cloudy—like when the weather is gray. One of the reasons why we lose our foothold in the truth of the hope of the Gospel is thatwe’ve succumbed to the dullness, inherent in what we see.There’s true life, the kind of life that Christ brings, and then there’sour experience of it—we experience depression and guilt andrage not because God isn’t actively saving us, but because we’reallowing our experience color the true reality of the salvation ofGod. John’s message of repentance IS the key to clearing awaythe clouds that keep the glory of the love of God from shiningthrough in our lives. Yes, we’ve got to actively participate inpersonal preparation if we expect to experience the blessings ofChrist’s birth in just 2 more weeks.
If you grew up Roman Catholic, you’re probably used to seeingviolet or purple colors during Advent just like Lent, because, well, Advent was considered a penitential season just like Lent is a penitential season. And it’s easy to remember “Oh this is the season I need to be especially penitent” when you’re seeing the Violet or Purple vestments. The “blue” color you see us use cameto be adopted by Anglicans who wanted to preserve some of the distinctives of the medieval English church when the Anglo- Catholic influences started to take over Anglicanism in the 19thCentury. So yes it’s just one of those things that some Anglican-tradition churches use to say, “By they way, we might be catholic, but we’re not ‘Roman’ Catholic.”
Even though we don’t use purple vestments, Advent is still apenitential season of sorts because, without this preparation, we will miss the blessing of the Nativity of our Lord, yes, Christmas. Despite what popular culture does with making Christmas a season that starts, well, in reality, when you put away the Halloween costumes at the end of October—Christmas onlycomes when we’re ready for it—yes December 25 may come and go, but fully participating in the Nativity of Our Lord, that’s anotherquestion.
But, that’s why you’re here, right? Now during this season ofwaiting? The thing that you’ve got to hold on to and really let sink in is this: Our Lord’s coming, and the preparation for that coming, are the initiatives of a gracious God. God is doing this. Yes, God is coming TO us. Not because we all of a sudden wised up, got smart and cracked the code and figured out how to summon this“out of this world” deity—like saying “Beetlejuice” three times— NO! Bad religion is what tells you that it’s your effort anddetermination that has persuaded God to come. Bad religion isthat kind of religion that strokes your ego and tells you, “Yes, yes,there you go, you got it right. You said the right prayers, youdonated the right amount of money.” No. God comes TO us NOT because we got it right. God comes to us because God’s will is toMAKE us right. Our God comes to us out of love for us in all of our heartbreak and pain and misery.
Biblical language talks about it like God is coming DOWN TO us—and this is just linguistic convention because this is how we experience it—we’re “down” here and we want to be showeredwith a blessing, we want it to wash over us and soak into every cell of our body—how else DO we speak of it except that iscomes from above? But no, it isn’t literally coming FROM above, that’s just a languaging thing we do because of how we experience this divine love.
The point is, we can’t take any of the credit for god’s deigning tocome to us. We haven’t summoned him like a sorcerer effectingmagic tricks—but we have put out our cries for help—Save usLord! That’s the true cry of our hearts. That’s the meaning of the prayer word “Hosanna!!” Our cries are heard AND . . . HE . . .HAS . . .HEARD . . .US. THIS? “This” is what the cry in the wilderness is all about. It is the cry of one who’s preparingthemselves and everyone around them—for this salvation that is coming. Be that one. Be the one to eschew getting all stressed out about all there is to do in these final 15 days before Christmas. Remember, December 25 will come and go regardless—you don’t have to do anything for THAT to happen.
But to make ready your heart to experience anew the life- changing love of a God who deigns to come to us in all our weirdness?—Now THAT’s the work. All there IS to do, truly, thatmakes any difference whatsoever—is to prepare your heart. Make straight his path. Fill in that valley. Tear down that mountain. Make the way of his coming easy. That’s all there is to do. Stopmaking it hard, stop making it stressful. Rest in the love of God that comes to us and meets us at our deepest need.
This coming Wednesday, December 12, marks the 25th anniversary of my being confirmed as an Episcopalian. I foundChrist’s Episcopal Church in Castle Rock, Colorado as an exilefrom the Southern Baptist denomination. I had been an ordained minister in a Southern Baptist church in southern Illinois when I realized one day that a promise I made to myself HAD to be carried out. The promise I made to myself and to God was that if I ever found myself in the position as a minister of the gospel of saying what I had to say just to keep a job—then it meant my ministry in that place was over. It was in a meeting with the Deacon board (like our Episcopal Vestry) that I was asked,“Preacher, do you feel your ministry here is over?” I said, “Yes, and here are my severance terms.” That was an “end of the line”experience for me. It was dramatic, decisive and oh so refreshing.
After moving the next week to Castle Rock I found myself in church the next morning, on my knees praising and thanking God for this chance of rebirth as an Episcopalian. Now, it would be another year or so until the bishop of Colorado would lay his hands on me at St. John’s Cathedral in Denver—but life for me would never be the same. My experience of God was that I wouldnever be let out of His hand. God wasn’t with me because I deserved it. God wasn’t with me because somehow I earned hislove. God came TO me and stayed with me because that’s whoGod is. And there was nothing I could do to change that. This iswhat Advent is about, my friends. Preparing to receive God’s love just because that’s who God is. I/We don’t merit anything on ourown. There is no pride or ego massaging whatsoever—this is worthy of celebration—this is worthy of hosannas—this is worthy of our lives letting the stress go. That just might mean that someof those things you’ve “GOT TO” do, just don’t get done. Oh well, there’ll always be another December 25th, (in just 365 more days); but the blessings of rediscovering the life-giving love ofGod in Jesus Christ are what truly sustain you, because that’swho YOU are. (Maybe this year will be the end of the line for you too.)
And now to him who is able to keep us from falling, and to present us faultless before his glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise God our savior, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now and forever. Amen.