A Thought For The Week Of December 28, 2015

"For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light ..." (Ephesians 5:8) Transformation is - or at least should be - at the heart of the Christian faith. There is surely no worse witness to Christ than a "disciple" who claims the faith but shows no evidence of the faith in their lives. Every Christian would agree with that. The disagreements would probably arise in identifying what changes are necessary. Ephesians 5:8 mentions one things very specifically - as people who have chosen to be disciples of Jesus we have moved from darkness into light. In some ways it's difficult to identify what's meant by that. Light and darkness seem somewhat vague concepts. But at the very least we can say two things: (1) the shift from darkness to light means being transformed from people who have no knowledge or awareness of God to being people who live with God as the centre of our existence; and (2) the shift from darkness to light means moving from having no real concept of sin to being acutely aware of sin. These two things combined have a huge impact on a person's life. We become aware of our failure to be what God wants us to be and we have to accept responsibility for the ways we turn away from God. We can't lay blame elsewhere. "The devil" didn't make me do it. I chose. So moving from darkness to light means taking responsibility for my life and my choices. This transformation gives us hope. Taking responsibility alone could simply fill us with guilt - but that's not the impact of Christian faith. Christian faith is a constant reminder of the grace of God. And the grace of God - while it doesn't give me license - does give me assurance. I can't just do whatever I want. I have to strive to follow God. But I can have the peace of trying my best to follow God rather than the fear of having to perfectly follow God. The former offers assurance; the latter offers only condemnation, because if I have to be perfect then I'm struck with the fact that I can't be perfect. Ultimately the move from darkness to light must include these two things: knowledge of God and knowledge of sin, both of which then work together to bring assurance to the believer.

December 27, 2015 sermon: Mary Always Understood Best

Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day’s journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety.” He said to them, “Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.

(Luke 2:41-52)

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     When last we gathered, Jesus was a baby lying in a manger, surrounded by angels and shepherds, on a still night - at least according to the unknown author who wrote the words “little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.” Since then, Luke’s Gospel has become a sort of time machine, fast forwarding us 12 years to this scene today. Jesus is no longer a baby, and there are neither angels nor shepherds around. Rather than stillness, the scene is chaotic, filled with people. And in the midst of it, Jesus disappears. Not knowing where he was, Joseph and Mary set out to find him, and they discover him in the temple. After being scolded for running off - as 12 year old boys have a tendency to do - Jesus looks at his mother and says “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” Which begs the question from me as well: Mary - did you know?

     What a great song! It’s one of the finest examples of contemporary Christian songs out there, and a beautiful addition to the Christmas roster of songs. And the lyrics pose some wonderful questions for us to think about as we reflect on Mary and her experiences as the mother of Jesus:

Mary, did you know

that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?

that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?

that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?

that your baby boy will calm the storm with His hand?

that when you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

that the little child you’re holding is the great I Am.

     Good questions, and they do make me wonder: Mary, did you know?

     There are five scenes in the Bible - if I can call them that - where Mary plays a significant role, and in all of them she shows an understanding of what was happening to her or of what had happened to her, depending on when the scenes occur. Mary is a bit of a controversial figure in the church. Actually, even beyond Christianity. You might be surprised, for example, to learn that there’s more written about Mary in the Koran than there is in the Bible. Within Christianity, in Roman Catholic tradition, she’s referred to as the Mother of God, and is an object of veneration herself, as people pray to her for her intercession. Protestants rejected this idea - many leaders of the Reformation were offended by it - and the result was that in many Protestant churches Mary has been largely ignored, except perhaps as a part of a sentimental scene as the holy family gathers in the manger on Christmas Eve. But Mary’s role in the story is huge - because at one and the same time she seems to have understood more than any of us, even though she may not have understood much at all. To understand what I mean, you have to look at the five places where she appears in the Gospel pageant.

     She’s there first, of course, as the angel Gabriel visits her and tells her that - against all the odds - she is going to be the mother of a child conceived by the Holy Spirit. Mary doesn’t understand - “how can this be, since I am a virgin,” is her response, and yet she immediately expresses deep faith and trust in God and says “may it be to me as you have said,” and she goes on with a wonderful expression of faith that’s known today as the Magnificat, starting with the words “My soul glorifies the Lord.” The second scene is at the manger, as the shepherds tell her that they’ve responded to the message from the angels and have arrived to see “this thing that has happened,” as they described it. Mary sees them arrive, and we’re told that she “treasured [their] words and pondered them in her heart.” She “pondered them.” She may not have understood exactly what it meant, but she “pondered them.” The third scene is the one we read today. It’s in Jerusalem and it’s Passover. The city is full of pilgrims. It’s a chaotic scene. As Mary and Joseph are returning home they suddenly realize that Jesus - 12 years old - isn’t with them. Some suggest that they must have been bad parents, but the group would have been travelling as an extended family of sorts, so it wasn’t unreasonable for her to think that Jesus must have been with someone else, and in any event at the age of 12 Jesus was almost a man by Jewish standards. Still, this was concerning. Returning to Jerusalem to find him, they discover him in the temple, having discussions with the religious leaders and amazing even them with his knowledge. Clearly, this boy was not your average boy, and I suspect that at least one of the temple priests must have been muttering under his breath “could someone please get this little brat’s parents and get him out of here!” Again, Mary didn’t understand fully, but her response was to treasure “all these things in her heart.” Scene four is at the wedding in Cana in John’s Gospel, where Mary has pondered and treasured enough to know that Jesus was capable of performing a miracle, and she essentially tells the wedding guests to sit back and watch her son turn water into wine! She had absolute faith by this point that Jesus could do it. And then there was Scene five - clearly the most anguishing one for Mary. Jesus is on the cross, in the last moments of his life - and Mary is there as well, watching, probably weeping, probably horrified. But she’s there. From beginning to end, Mary was there with Jesus, and Jesus, at the end, when he could have been focussed on himself and his own suffering, looked after Mary, and ensured that John would look out for her.

     What all five of these scenes tell us is that Mary - while she may not have understood everything - understood from the beginning to the end that there was something about Jesus that was different. Her relationship with Jesus was unlike the relationship any of us can have with Jesus. The author Judy Randoli wrote about things that only a mother can understand. One was “once a person becomes a mother, a piece of her own heart is taken and shared with a love like they will never feel for another human being.” As she put it in commenting on that, the mother simply says “I believe in you. I believe in you with every cell of my being.” Mary believed in Jesus. She may not have understood everything fully, but she believed in Jesus. On that very first night, when Jesus was born, Max Lucado writes about the scene that “she looks into the face of the baby. Her son. Her Lord. His Majesty. At this point in history, the human being who best understands who God is and what he is doing is a teenage girl in a smelly stable.”

     We are never going to understand Jesus as Mary understood Jesus. But we do learn from Mary to constantly treasure and ponder Jesus’ life and words and to trust him, and we learn that Jesus will care for those who care for him.

December 24, 2015 Christmas Eve Communion Sermon: To Be A Child At Christmas

In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see - I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!” When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

(Luke 2:8-20)

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     One of my favourite verses of Scripture is Matthew 18:3. It’s not a Christmas reading. The event it describes takes place long after the birth of Jesus. In the passage, Jesus is gathered with his disciples, who ask him the question, “Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven.” And Jesus’ answer, at least in part, was “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven.” No - it’s not a Christmas reading - but, gathered here on Christmas Eve and gathered with the Communion table set, that verse makes me think of Christmas.

     How often do we hear people say at this time of year that “Christmas is really for children.” When we say that, we’re usually thinking of Christmas in the secular sense. It’s fun to be a child at Christmas, and when you’ve grown up it’s fun to watch children at Christmas. Lynn and I were married for over 13 years before Hannah came into our lives, and although we always enjoyed Christmas and the chance to gather with family and friends, it’s true - without a child to share the day with, something was missing. And now - even at the age of almost 12 - I’ve smiled as I’ve seen Hannah under the Christmas tree a few times over the last little while, shaking gifts and trying to guess what’s in them. She’ll tell you that she knows - but she may not! Children do make Christmas more fun for everyone. But there is another way of looking at the idea of being a child at Christmas, and for me it links with that verse from Matthew 18:3.

     “Become like little children,” Jesus said. It seems that becoming like little children is the key to our entire faith. And what did Jesus mean? He was speaking of course of being child-like and not childish. He was speaking of approaching all of life with a sense of open-ness and wonder. He was speaking of being so dazzled by the creation that one’s attention and curiosity is naturally drawn to the Creator. “Where did it come from? How did it get here?” Questions that come from the lips of a child. Too many of us lose that sense of awe and wonder as the years go by. We’re no longer dazzled. Instead, we take things for granted. We’re no longer awed by mystery. Instead, we simply want answers, and if we can’t understand something we simply dismiss it. It happens a lot to faith as people grow. They lose the essential sense of awe and wonder and the willingness to embrace mystery that’s necessary for a passionate faith in God and in Jesus. It happens with the Christmas story.

     Shepherds and angels and a manger. God as a baby. A virgin birth. How can rational, intelligent, modern people believe any of that? That’s what I hear from lots of people at this time of year. Christmas has been reduced to sentiment, to gift-giving and gift-receiving and to the extent that any spirit at all is involved with Christmas it’s not the Holy Spirit - it’s either in the form of certain beverages or it’s the so-called “spirit of Christmas,” which just means that for a few weeks people seem to become more kind and generous. But I think there has to be more. I think that shepherds and angels and a manger and God as a baby and a virgin birth have to be a part of Christmas - if Christmas is to really be Christmas. And to grasp what really happened at Christmas - to understand it and to believe it and to be transformed by it (so that the spirit of Christmas doesn’t just take possession of us in December but actually takes possession of our lives) - we have to take Jesus’ words to heart: “become like little children.” We have to reclaim the sense of wonder and awe and mystery that should be central to who we are as human beings. Not everything can just be reduced to pure logic and rationality. We’re people of feeling and emotions and intuition. We “know” things we can’t prove; we’re convinced of some things even if we can’t see them; we understand that there’s a difference between truth and fact. Tonight we celebrate truth and mystery - shown to us as a divine baby born of a virgin in a manger as angels and shepherds bear witness; shown to us also in bread and wine as we reflect upon what would happen to the baby some thirty years later. It’s all mystery, to be embraced by people of faith who find themselves able and confident enough to approach God with child-like wonder.

     Charles Dickens wrote in A Christmas Carol that “... it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty Founder was a child Himself.” And so it is. And - also in the words of Dickens - as we gather together tonight and with family tomorrow - God bless us, everyone.

A Thought For The Week Of December 21, 2015

"I am come out from the Father, and came into the world: again I leave the world, and go to the Father." (John 16:28) Linkages are important. Unless we can link together the story of Jesus' life then all we have are short snippets without context. Christmas can fall prey to that especially. I wonder how many people know the basic story of Christmas but have little knowledge of the rest of the story of Jesus' life? And the result of that is that Christmas becomes little more than a story, with little meaning or purpose to it. John 16:28 seems to be a remedy to that problem, in that at the very least it links together Christmas with Good Friday. In a way, this one verse presents to us the span of Jesus' entire life. And it is so full of hope for those who believe in Jesus. Jesus is the perfect human - fully divine but also fully human; human in the way God wishes all of us were! And, in a way, Jesus is what God promises us that we will become. In addition to everything else, Jesus is God's grace given to us and for us, and grace is that divine quality that allows God to look beyond our flaws and to see us as we were meant to be. God, by grace, is able to see us without sin and promises, through Jesus, to return us to that state. And that returns us to John 16:28. Jesus came from the Father and Jesus returns to the Father. The manger and the cross are intertwined. And, ultimately, isn't this to be so for all of us? Did we not all come from God? And is the promise of the Gospel not that we will return to the God from whom we came? I see John 16:28 not just as a statement about Jesus, but as a promise to all of us. Christmas and Good Friday held together, with Easter as the ultimate hope! God is our origin; God is also our destiny. Christmas to Good Friday to Easter.

What Do We Celebrate At Christmas?

Recently I've become involved in a debate on an online discussion board called Wondercafe 2 which has revolved around the following question (the heading for the thread):

Did Jesus Want The Church To Celebrate His Birthday?

I was giving some thought to it as I sat in my office today doing some work preparing for my Christmas Eve services as well as the services for the two Sundays of Christmas.

The appropriate question to me seems to me to be a bit more general than that. Really it should be: What did Jesus want the church to do?

A lot, I suppose. There are the ethical demands of Christian faith. Simply put, living like Jesus and loving like Jesus - which is no easy task. But if we're specifically thinking about Christmas, and whether it's appropriate to set aside a time to celebrate Christ's birth, I guess this is the answer I've come up with.

What Jesus would want us to do would be to worship God, and to celebrate God's works. Would Jesus want us to throw him a birthday party? I doubt it. I think he'd be the type who'd be more interested in having us celebrate his birthday - if we feel we should - by doing something for someone else. Providing for the needy, perhaps. Feeding the hungry. Something like that. Sounds like a good way to celebrate Jesus' birthday to me. But let's aside the word "celebrate." And the word "birthday," for that matter. Would Jesus want us to use the occasion of his birth as a reason for us to approach God - and, to me at least, that seems a no-brainer. Again, Jesus would want us to worship God and to celebrate God's works - all of them. And one of those works is surely God's choice to come to us in Jesus.

If we're in the business of rejoicing in all that God has done - well, surely that's a biggie! Surely, we're not going to ignore what the shepherds of Luke 2 called "this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

For me, incarnation, crucifixion and resurrection (and everything else about Jesus' life) hang together. But, for me, incarnation may be the defining event. Everything else, for me, revolves around the fact that here was God Incarnate. I think Charles Wesley got it right: "Veiled in flesh the godhead see; hail the incarnate deity." These words, always sung during the Christmas season, don't invite us to celebrate Jesus' birthday, or to be sentimental about a baby's birth - they invite us to reflect again and again about the mystery and the majesty of the incarnation.

That's what I'll do this Christmas. That's what I do every Christmas.

A Thought For The Week Of December 14, 2015

"This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all." (1 John 1:5) The idea that God is light I can easily understand. The concept of darkness (and how it manifests itself even in the natural world) is a little more complicated. There are different kinds of darkness in the natural world, and each affects us in different ways. There's the darkness of night. That's very dark. The sun is literally nowhere to be seen. It can be a frightening place. We don't know what's out there. There's also the darkness of an approaching storm. "The sky looks dark." It's not really dark - there's actually so much light that you can see the darkness! But in a way - because you can see the darkness approaching, and because you know that there's a storm coming with it - it causes apprehension and worry. We choose to barricade ourselves away from the elements if we can. There's the kind of darkness represented by something like dense fog. Again - that's not really "dark" but the light is obscured, and things are hidden from sight. There's perhaps nothing more unnerving than driving in heavy fog - because you just don't know what's ahead of you. Fog hides danger that we should be able to see. There's even the darkness of an eclipse - when the moon hides the sun completely from our sight. All these things have spiritual applications. The darkness of night: when we  feel helpless. The darkness of an approaching storms: when we feel fearful over what might happen. The darkness of fog: when we're puzzled and can't figure out what we should do or where we should turn. The darkness of an eclipse: when sheer evil seems to have overcome our faith in God. But then there's this promise: God is light. God cannot be overcome by darkness. God will always overcome darkness. The sun will rise in the morning, the storm will come again, the fog eventually will lift, and the sun will emerge from behind the moon. In the same way, God always triumphs over any kind of evil or trouble we may face. Maybe not as quickly as we would like - but with God victory truly is just a matter of time!

December 13, 2015 sermon: Speaking Of Joy ... Today

You will say in that day: I will give thanks to you, O Lord, for though you were angry with me, your anger turned away, and you comforted me. Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the Lord God is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation. With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation. And you will say in that day: Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name; make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted. Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be known in all the earth. Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.

(Isaiah 12:2-6)

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     It was almost three thousand years ago, and for the Jewish people it was not a time of joy. Strange then that this prophecy appears as a reading for the Third Sunday of Advent - which is the Sunday of Joy. There was nothing joyous about the context in which Isaiah wrote. Israel had been conquered years before. The Kingdom of Judah remained, but even as Isaiah wrote, it, too, was under threat. The bleak reality was that the darkness was closing in on God's people. It was a frightening time; a bewildering time; a chaotic time. Our passage from Isaiah was written probably as Judah was about to fall to the Babylonians. As their lives crashed around them and their fear mounted, the people fell into despair. Hope was gone. It seemed that everything they knew was about to be wiped off the face of the earth at the hands of a fearsome enemy. The Babylonian armies were virtually at the gates. And so Isaiah wrote, and he spoke of a better day to come. “You will say in that day: ‘I will give thanks to you, O Lord.’”

     I’m all in favour of approaching even the bleakest of times by looking ahead to something better, so I understand the prophet’s desire to comfort the people with the promise of a better future. We today may not be facing exile, but still Isaiah’s words resonate during the Season of Advent, which forces us to wait - and patience is, of course, a virtue. But on the other hand, there’s also a principle that asks why we should wait until tomorrow for something we can have now, and by that principle the prophet’s words “in that day” grate on me a bit. Why “that day”? Why not today? As Christians, we live in the light which is Jesus - the light who cannot be extinguished by the darkness. As Christians, we have reason to be joyful today, and not just in some future “that day.” Even Isaiah, I think - while looking ahead - gives us reason to be joyful today. If, as the prophet says, “God is my salvation,” then as disciples of Jesus we’re able to see that salvation which first appeared in a manger in Bethlehem two thousand years ago. We can get into a lot of debates about what “salvation” actually is - put three Christians together and you’ll probably come up with about five different ideas on the subject - but we can all agree, I think, that salvation means being saved from that which in some ways destroys us - in body, mind and soul - and being brought into a new reality, a new way of life, a new way of seeing the world; one that tells us not to fear, not to worry, not to fret, not to be bothered, but to live life abundantly - and with joy.

     I suspect that we would normally think of sadness as the opposite of joy, but I’m not sure about that. Perhaps more than anything the opposite of joy is fear. Fear is what saps joy out of our life - and we seem to be fearing a lot of things in today’s world. If God is truly our salvation, then at least one of the things God must be saving us from is fear - and one of the things that God must be saving us for is joy. During Advent, we look ahead to the coming of God’s reign on earth. For Isaiah, this was a future promise, so “in that day” made sense. But for us, while it’s still something we look ahead to, we’ve also seen it and experienced it. As John wrote in his Gospel, “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” I might also add - full of joy. For Isaiah, living in a bleak time, this was something only to look ahead to hopefully. For us, in times that sometimes also seem bleak, things are also different - because for us: today is the day. For us, today is always the day! Paul wrote, “now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!” We’re joyful now because in Jesus God has come to us, to be with us; to be one of us! He is light and life and truth to us.  This salvation that Isaiah spoke of is what Jesus brought to us in the flesh. While Isaiah said that “in that day … I will trust, and will not be afraid,” we can say that today we will trust and not be afraid. What are we trusting in? Obviously, we’re trusting in Jesus, and in the impact Jesus has on our lives. The great Bible commentator Matthew Henry wrote that “I will trust him to prepare me for his salvation, and preserve me to it. I will trust him with all my concerns, not doubting but he will make all to work for good. Faith in God is a sovereign remedy against tormenting fears.” Or, in the word of Isaiah, “I will trust, and will not be afraid.”

     This absence of fear is a hallmark of a life of faith. “Do not be afraid.” Over and over and over again, Jesus said those words. “Do not be afraid.” He wasn’t talking about normal fear. Normal fear is a good thing. It’s called the “flight or fight mechanism.” There are times when logical fear takes over. I don’t go into the woods across the street from my house because neighbours have told me that people have seen bears and wolves in there. I’m kind of scared of bears and wolves! But when Jesus and Isaiah speak about not being afraid, they’re speaking of fear as a spiritual problem. They’re speaking of being afraid that just maybe God isn’t in control; that just maybe our faith isn’t real; that just maybe eternity isn’t a certainty; that just maybe my salvation isn’t secure; that just maybe I haven’t done enough to make God happy. This is the kind of fear that saps joy from us - and that fear gets taken away by faith. Faith tells us that God is always with us and will never abandon us. Jesus came as Emmanuel;  his birth represents the sign that God is here. We do not fear, because we have faith in Jesus, whom God sent. We live in joy, because we have faith in Jesus, whom God sent.

     Earlier in our service we sang “Joy To The World.” In spite of the fact that it’s in the “Christmas” section of the hymn book, it’s not a Christmas carol. Isaac Watts wrote it as an Advent hymn. It speaks not of the birth of Jesus, whose life offered us only a glimpse - albeit a glorious one - of what God’s reign would look like, but rather of his final victory. The victory isn’t here yet - but we’ve seen what it will look like through the life of Jesus, which is why we don’t have to wait for what Isaiah called “that day” - we can sing today, in the perhaps prophetic words of Isaac Watts:

Joy to the world! the Lord is come;

…

Repeat the sounding joy,

Repeat the sound joy,

Repeat, repeat the sounding joy!

A Thought For The Week Of December 7, 2015

"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother’s womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." (Ecclesiastes 11:5) There's such an intimate biblical connection between "wind" and "spirit." In both Greek and Hebrew the words are the same. In the case of Ecclesiastes, the word for wind is "ruach," the same word used in Hebrew for "spirit." Wind, and even air in general, is for me a very meaningful analogy for God.  Air is all around us, and within us. Air is what gives us life. If we're separated from our air supply, we can't live for very long. Air, when put under pressure, results in wind - an invisible force that we can't see, but whose effects are obvious. It's no wonder that the biblical authors over the centuries saw such a close connection between God and wind. The word can also mean "breath." Once formed in a mother's womb, and finally born, the baby takes the breath of life. The baby's life is already a gift of God - who formed the baby in the mother's womb - now God fills the baby's lungs with air. The air, the wind, breath - all are ever-present realities that should keep us mindful of God every moment of every day. And, of course, this verse reminds us that there's mystery to wind and to the formation of a baby. Oh, yes, we can understand both from a scientific perspective - but both are still wondrous things that remind us of the mysteries that take place in the mind of God, who created all. Advent is a time of expectant hope; a time of mystery, as we contemplate the work of God that eventually itself became the birth of a baby who would give life to others. We do not understand the work of God; we do not understand the incarnation fully. There is mystery. But we are both grateful and blessed.

December 6, 2015 sermon: Packaging The Message And The Messenger

In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’” John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 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.”

(Luke 3:1-9)

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     He’s one of the more intriguing characters in the Bible. John the Baptist. A messenger. The new Elijah, as Jesus called him. And a fascinating figure. He was a relative of Jesus - a cousin, apparently, and six months older than Jesus (according to Luke’s Gospel) - but we don’t really know if they had spent any of their boyhoods together, although they may have known of each other. As Jesus grew in wisdom, John the Baptist felt a calling to be a messenger to God’s people - bringing a message of repentance and forgiveness through baptism. John’s relationship with Jesus was a complex one. When Jesus appeared at the Jordan, John recognized him as Messiah - “behold - the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” - and he claimed to be unworthy not only to baptize Jesus, but to even untie his sandals. On the other hand, a little later, John began to have doubts. He sent his own disciples to Jesus to ask “are you the one? Or is someone else coming?” It was a complicated, somewhat cautious relationship, characterized on John’s part by both great faith and nagging doubt. Doesn’t that make John the Baptist just a little bit like the rest of us? We’re similar in other ways too. Just like John the Baptist, we’re called to be messengers for God, preparing the way for whatever work it is that God will choose to do, even though we may not fully understand what that is! So John the Baptist is an example for us. How do we bring the message God gives us to the world?

     The strange thing is that if you were to meet John the Baptist on the street today, you probably wouldn’t expect him to be God’s messenger. We have so tamed God’s message that any messenger who seems out of the ordinary is probably summarily dismissed. We’d dismiss John the Baptist. We wouldn’t give him a second thought. The Gospel of Luke doesn’t really do John the Baptist justice. To get the full picture you have to dive into Mark’s Gospel. Mark tells us that John wore a coat of camel hair. Camel hair is hard and sharp and tough. A shirt made of camel hair wouldn’t just be uncomfortable to wear - it would be downright painful! Mark tells us that John had a rather unusual diet - among other things, he ate locusts. Now I know that insects are supposed to be almost all protein and that incorporating insects into your diet (as many cultures do) isn’t actually a bad thing - but, still, I’ll pass. John the Baptist dressed differently and ate differently. He preached differently, too. As he spoke to the crowds in today’s passage, the first words out of his mouth were, “You brood of vipers!” Preachers don’t usually begin their sermons by comparing their congregations to a bunch of snakes! And yet, in spite of the fact that John the Baptist wore strange clothes and ate strange food and insulted those who came to hear him preach - the crowds did, in fact, come. Did they come for the show? Was he a first century version of Donald Trump? Somebody that no one took especially seriously but who everyone was strangely drawn to? Well, many people accepted his baptism, so they must have taken him seriously. How do we explain this strange phenomenon? And I wonder - if John the Baptist were to appear in our midst today, how would we react to him? If John the Baptist had turned up outside the church this morning wearing a camel hair shirt, eating locusts and calling all of us snakes as we walked inside - we’d think he was crazy, and we might call the police, no matter how much he talked about God. But we would notice him. We couldn’t ignore him. And people noticed John the Baptist. They didn’t ignore him.

     People kept coming to him. It’s fascinating. When God needed a messenger, God didn’t choose a powerbroker or a king or a millionaire or a political leader. God sent John the Baptist, who was about as far removed from society’s elite as you could possibly get. And let’s face it - a person who just blends in wouldn’t make a very good messenger for God. Whatever else you might say about him - John the Baptist did not blend in. You might agree or disagree with his message about repentance - and you might even think he was crazy - but you couldn’t ignore him. Maybe the most important thing John the Baptist teaches us is that we should be prepared to hear the word of God coming from the most unexpected people. And the word of God (according to John the Baptist) began with “you brood of vipers!”

     I don’t think John was talking specifically about the people who were gathered around him. I think he was talking about the entire society of which they were a part. John was attacking the moral and ethical decay that the world around him was suffering from. He was attacking the religious practices of his day, which had become so formalized that they had long since ceased to have any real meaning in the lives of most of the people who took part in them. Do moral decadence and religious emptiness sound suspiciously familiar? Our world is very different from that of John the Baptist, but are we really any more moral? We may be more moralistic, but that’s not the same thing. Our religion is very different from that of John’s time, but is it really any more vibrant and alive and passionate, or have we allowed religious duty to become more important than a deeply felt spirituality and a transforming relationship with God? To be blunt, I’m not sure that John’s message to us would be much different than his message to those gathered on the banks of the Jordan River so long ago. Having John the Baptist preach to us might actually be a good thing. He would certainly awaken us from our slumber and jar us out of our respectable religious practices and moralistic sensibilities into something new and different - into a new and vibrant and living relationship with God.

     God has given us a message to share: that this time of year is about more than shopping, shopping, and more shopping. It’s not about glitter; it’s not about who has the biggest light display or the tallest Christmas tree. It’s about being humble, and serving others. Followers of Jesus should be challenging the orgy of consumerism that breaks out every December. Perhaps we’re not called to wear camel hair shirts or to eat locusts - but we are called to stand up and to stand out; to hold up a vision that most people would probably resist at this time of year - obsessed as they are with getting just the right gift. That may not make us popular - but it just might get us noticed.