Monday Meditation
embrace the strange
A sermon for Advent 2
There’s something remarkably strange about Christianity. The season of Advent-Christmas highlights this strangeness like no other, except maybe the season of Lent-Easter or perhaps the Holy Spirit descending upon of group of frightened believers, sending them into the streets proclaiming the crucified-raised Jesus as Savior. Actually, it’s all strange, isn’t it? How to embrace this strangeness in our life together? We could begin with the gloriously impossible-made-possible news that the God of heaven and earth, in sheer love came to us in the flesh, and lived among us full of grace and truth. Love-in-the-flesh. And with hearts full we sing: how can it be?
Then there’s this very strange character; the messenger John, wearing strange clothes and eating strange food, born to an old, very unlikely couple, whose sole purpose is to prepare the way for his cousin, Jesus.
There’s an old saying, that the only road to Easter leads through Good Friday. The same is said of Christmas: you can’t get there unless you pass the Jordan river where John the Baptizer holds forth, dressed in strange garments and eating strange food. The bridge from the old to the new. Actually neither of these statements is true. Many people celebrate the resurrection of our Lord without a moment’s reflection on his cross. Likewise people skip merrily along toward Christmas with no thought of the prophet’s wild call to prepare the way. So the more important question is which is the better path? Which way allows you to celebrate most deeply the astonishingly good news of God’s love incarnate and be ready for his appearance?
It’s a bit like two couples, each hearing the happy news that a baby is on the way. One begins immediately preparing a welcome space for the expectant child. There will be new colors on the walls and perhaps a crib with a toy to focus the newborn’s eyes. All the while the parents’ own inner lives are slowly being made ready as they prepare to receive their child. And then there is the other couple – this may be bit harder for us to imagine – that make no preparations. The day of birth of arrives with no welcome space, either in the home or the heart. For each the baby is born; but the preparation makes a huge difference in the reception. (The fact that there are couples whose circumstances make it impossible to prepare a home – like those at the border – doesn’t change the necessity of preparation. It only makes us remember more poignantly Mary and Joseph. )
What’s also interesting is how precisely Luke places this calling of John the Baptist. He names the exact date along with names of each of the rulers from the highest to the most local. He even includes the religious and political leaders of the day too. It’s as if he wants everyone to know that the prophet’s announcement is going to affect everyone – the whole known world. ALL creation will be involved – mountains and valleys, rivers and hills – and ALL flesh shall see the salvation of God.
In those days Jews were living under the oppressive reign of Herod. There was fear and foreboding throughout the land. Resistance movements were common and often brutally suppressed. As NT Wright tells us: “Something had to change. John was doing what the prophet Isaiah had said: preparing a way for the Lord himself to return to his people. This was the time. Rescue was at hand.” Baptism remains a powerful sign of renewal.
Those who have ears to hear and eyes to see, know that we too are in a profound moral and spiritual crisis, not to mention a political one. The salvation that all flesh shall see, comes into such a world as this one in crisis. How shall we turn, turn, turn again until we come ‘round right?
John the Baptizer in all his strangeness, standing there knee deep in the water, doesn’t give a specific preparation plan. He simply calls for a baptism of repentance. Turn your life over to God. Surrender.
While some may prefer to go merrily along with jingles and consumption, the strange practice of Christians calls us to stop, listen and consider the truth about ourselves, and our communities. The public evidence of our baptism surely means a commitment to address the spiritual roots of the social calamity for God’s sake. Renouncing all speech that engenders fear, demeans others and undermines community is surely a sign of repentance. There are times when silence is, indeed, golden, and preparing is a pre-Christmas gift.
What sort of letting go may be necessary for you to receive Christ this Advent season? These are some of the questions that occur to me at this strange juncture on the way to the manger.
How might you embrace the strangeness of a life surrendered to God?
What patterns in your life need to change for you to grow closer to Christ?
What habits of spiritual formation await you?
Will you call upon the Holy Spirit to help you make those changes?
People of God,
here we are in this strange, lovely season of Advent,
where darkness and light collide.
Believing at full stretch, we stand on our tiptoes,
the eyes of our hearts open wide,
gazing across the ruins of our cultural landscape with hearts beating,
our eyes follow the boney finger of God's strange messenger,
pointing always toward Jesus, and there,
resting our gaze up upon Jesus,
we await his coming day.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Luke 3:1-6
Advent 2 December 8, 2024
