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SERMONS
The
Second Sunday of Advent
December 4, 2005
Advent
2b, 2005
Mark’s
Prologue:
“Do
you think if we put a ribbon in his hair that he might fit under
the tree?” How do you make a Christmas present out of John the Baptist?
Do
you put a ribbon in his hair and sit him on the couch with a cup
of egg nog?
Exegesis:
Maybe
you have been tailgating at football games this Fall? The life in
and around the Jerusalem Temple, especially during the festival
seasons, was not terribly different. There were both written and
unwritten rules about how to come, where to stay, and what to do,
who to see; deals to make, marriages to arrange, all while participating
in the seasonal worship in Jerusalem. People knew their parts and
roles; expectations written, and unwritten, were understood.
Those
in the area of Jerusalem had perhaps fallen into the habit that
God’s people always tend to find. That habit of believing that the
living God had been rendered safe and hospitable in a cage of our
own making. A daily round of worship and sacrifice, a daily round
of religious sentiment and good feeling, a daily round of window
dressing the Temple for the sake of honoring God; all the while
the poor, the widows, the fatherless, the least of these, go wandering
about gathering scraps of the great Jerusalem religious machine.
All the while, the extra-curricular activities overshadowing the
reality that God dwells in our midst.
And
then suddenly a familiar voice in Israel is heard in the wilderness
– this time his name is John {ihonnais baptizoon: gk.}, not Jeremiah,
not Malachi, not Elijah, not Isaiah, but John; and he wears a prophet’s
vesture, eats the prophet’s food, and he is baptizing, and he is
turning round the people, because Yahweh is returning according
to the old promises.
Do
you think if we give him a bath, put a ribbon in his hair, that
we might bring him up to the Temple? Do you think he would behave?”
“What would his mama think?”
“He
sure doesn’t look like Santa Claus.”
But
John the Baptist, like Elijah and the other prophets who stand for
the living God, does not give way; John does not save the people
from the hard questions, he merely provides them with the coming
crisis . . . or the opportunity . . . to decide. Whose will you
be? Whom will you serve? For whom does your heart wait? Do the words
repent and sin still pierce you?
Human
condition:
What
do we do with those places in our lives where there are difficult
questions to answer, where the sand and the grit have gotten into
the oyster . . . are we forming pearls?
John
the Baptist is vital for us because he speaks to those places in
our lives where we seek a way 'round, rather than through, the primary
commitments, the faith, the trust, that God calls from us.
Isn't
there some other way? I have worked so hard to avoid this KIND of
person, this KIND of question, in my life, especially my spiritual
life ... something so direct, unadorned, unwavering.
Is
there some bridge over this river Jordan, some place where the channel
narrows; must I get into this man’s water before I am allowed to
go on?
John
the Baptist looks back at us, “No you must go through the water,
this water, lest you meet with fire.” And this is how our Lord would
meet us on the Advent of His coming; with water in one hand and
fire in the other. It is part of the unsettling energy of this season.
You
see, my friends, that is THE one question that God always brings.
It is the question that brings the most devastating avoidance, or
the most devastating gift; it is the question that walks with us
through this life. God is moving upon us, and “whose captive will
I be?”
We
are entering the season of giving and receiving gifts, and the Church,
in her wisdom, and God in his love, gives us the gift that we cannot
give ourselves; a promise, a life line, a human pulse, that all
of the time and the uncertainty and the anxiety of this life can
never erase or cut short.
What
gift might God truly give to you this year? Where do you need a
life line?
You
see, it is not always more information that we need, but rather
a certain invitation, to change the use of the information that
we have.
John
the Baptist is asking us to clear a space, however small, about
the size of a manger, about the size of that spot where we might
feed our pets, for a gift that will remake our homes and those who
live in them, and in the end, will remake the world.
We
are in the days of building our mangers.
And
yes, if you put a ribbon on him, he might fit right under that Christmas
Tree.
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