It may sound strange to hear it, but I’ve been waiting to call you
all a brood of vipers all week! It’s not because you are particularly horrible.
It just seems like a funny thing to say in the era of church shopping and
relational ministry. It’s kind of a tough sell that John the Baptizer dishes up
this week. Isn’t it? Just like a few Sundays back – when we had Christ on the
cross – it seems kind of “Lenty”. It seems less “Silent Night” and more “Balm
in Gilead.”
Maybe that’s why – even more than calling you vipers – I’ve wanted
to wish you a penitent Advent. We seem to be so caught up as a culture over
saying, “Merry Christmas,” that we’ve forgotten what it means. We forget that
wishing someone a Merry Christmas actually refers to the day of the “Christ
Mass” and the days that follow are actually the Christmas season. We’ve allowed
culture to dictate what the church once proclaimed. We’ve forgotten that there
are some things we need to do before we can truly be swept up in the magic of
the season. I’m not talking about cleaning the house or hanging decorations or
shopping for the perfect gift to make someone go “Ah.”
Although, maybe I am… just a little. Nobody likes to dust, right?
Nothing confirms that you’ve not been dusting like decorating. Don’t you dare
go hang that on my wife, now. We both cook. We both clean. Sure, we could get
the kids a little more involved in projects like these, but like I said – no
one really likes to dust. There is some repentance in realizing your role in
the dust on your shelves.
Today is the day in or time of preparation and celebration where
we stop and get real about the dust, or whatever metaphor works for you, in our
lives and in our world. I mentioned earlier what a tough sell that is. It seems
like it would have been harder during John’s time, but what a draw that guy
had. Baptisms with public confession of sin? Wow. That would be chapter 1 in
the book of “How to run off prospective church members.”
What about the existing members, the Pharisees, and the Sadducees? He
told them to go away and bear fruit worthy of righteousness. So, we’re earning
our salvation now? That’s certainly one way his words have been interpreted in
the past, but we know that we are saved by grace and grace alone. Maybe it’s
not so much that we have to become worthy in order to be saved. Maybe it’s that
we aren’t supposed to wait until we repent of the bad in order to do the good.
The thing is, even as we seek to bear fruit worthy of repentance,
you can’t demand that a tree produce fruit immediately. If I went out to talk
to our two memorial fruit trees over by the education wing, I’d still have to
wait a while. That doesn’t mean that nothing is happening, though. The root
system is already working on bringing in nutrients. The leaves are already
converting sunlight into sugar. There’s a metabolic process that’s happening
right under our noses, even though we can’t see it.
It kind of reminds me of an older gentleman in the church I served
in Chester, VA. He used to say, “You’re always changing. You’re either green
and growing or brown and rotting. Today I choose to be green.” The really
interesting thing is that he also had a heart condition and expected that each
day could be his last. Somehow, he still outlived expectations, and his
appreciation for the gift of each day led to greater generosity and purpose
than it ever would have without it.
Among other things, he taught me that a stump is never just a
stump. The possibility of life is always contained in the roots, and sometimes
it bursts forth as a new branch, a new possibility, a new iteration of the old
and familiar tree that once stood and grew tall against the wind. The Prophet
Isaiah certainly knew this, and he used it as a symbol of hope for his people
during a period of occupation where they had been dispersed and conquered by a
foreign power.
The promise of the shoot of Jesse was a specific symbol of hope in
the active presence of God. It was a symbol of hope that the way things were
wasn’t the way they would stay, and it was particularly focused on the poor,
the needy, and the vulnerable. It was a vision where predator and prey may care
for one another, and even share a meal. A child could play, even with a brood
of vipers like us, and not be harmed.
I admit that it’s kind of a bizarre image, but I think what God
wants us to see in this image is the hope that we might one day all be as swept
up in the love of God as the world was in the waters of the flood! Imagine it.
Imagine being held by the knowledge of God’s love as though it were all around
you. We often describe God’s Spirit as being like the air or wind, but what if
it were more like water? What if God’s love was so immersive that it pressed
against your skin and held you? What if it covered the earth like the waters
cover the ocean?
You see, I believe that it does. It’s just that not everyone knows
it. Not only that, but I believe it is our repentance that opens us to that
knowledge. Repentance of our own misgivings immerses us in the waters of God’s
all-consuming love. Repentance – truly, honestly confessing our limitations and
turning away from self-centeredness – is what can’t wait. The roots of this
historic church can’t wait for a whole new trunk to grow. We can’t wait for
another season to bear the fruit worthy of repentance!
You see, it was never about our worthiness anyway. It has always
been about God’s willingness to love and to move into the world, even though
the likes of you and me. Whether you call it the Christmas Season or the Season
of Advent; whether you wish someone “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays” (or
more accurately, Holy Days) the invitation of this day is to recognize that
there is a God, and it’s not you. It definitely isn’t me, but we have been
given one another to proclaim that God is moving us – even here and even now –
toward a greater experience of peace.
Be careful though, because repentance that is real and true is
disruptive and it is humbling. It is, I believe, the first gift of this season
of Holy Days. It’s a gift that we can’t wait to open, and it’s a gift we can’t
wait to give – both to God and to ourselves. Repentance is the mirror we look
into to see the imperfections we often ignore. It’s also the chance to
recognize that the choices we make from this day forward can be more loving,
both to ourselves and to others.
John the Baptizer reminds us of this gift, but he also promises
that Jesus is coming to “separate the wheat from the chaff” so that the chaff
may be burned,
and the wheat preserved. As scary as that may sound – especially
after hearing the unfruitful trees are also to be burned – we can take heart in
knowing that we are yet immersed in God’s love. In that love, our imperfections
are drawn away – like the chaff to be burned. In that love, our ability to love
is increased, and there is greater hope for peace within our lives and without.
That doesn’t mean the problems will magically disappear, but
it does mean that we don’t have to go it alone. It doesn’t mean that we have to
become worthy of the hope and peace and love that we long for. It means that we
simply live as though we are.
I don’t mean to say that we should live in denial of the pain and
suffering in our lives or of the world. I mean that we are called to stand for
something greater. Over the last few years, we’ve been talking about the way
this congregation stands for something greater through our offering of
hospitality. In fact, we’ve even picked up the theme of “Building a House Where
All Are Welcome” for the coming year.
As we continue to live into that vision together, and as you
consider God’s calling in your life this Advent Season, I want to encourage you
to keep wrestling with the question, “What can’t wait?” My sincere hope for all
of us is that we’ll come to see that we just can’t wait to begin growing in new
directions. We just can’t wait to bear fruit that comes from repentance – fruit
like humility, self-offering, care for the vulnerable, and the ability to be
vulnerable to one another. We just can’t wait to invite others into our
fellowship so that they too might know of God’s immersive and pervasive love.
We should be giddy with excitement like a little child over the
opportunity to repent because it leads us straight into the arms of the one who
offers us peace as only God can give. God's peace joins even predators and
prey in a loving embrace. God's peace even moves into spaces of conflict for
the sake of the vulnerable. God's peace proclaims life where there is loss. God's peace can’t wait for us, even as we can’t wait for it, and to God be
the glory for that – now and always. Amen!
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