GOSPEL:
The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,
"See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,'"
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.
Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."
“Prepare the way of the Lord.”
This is what John the Baptizer preaches. This is what we hear from the prophet Isaiah. “Prepare the way of the Lord.” This is what the Advent season is all about. Preparing for the birth of that tiny baby boy who will change the world with his life and death and resurrection. This is what we take time to prepare for.
And yet, I am not altogether sure that we know what or how we prepare for the coming of the Christ child. We all know a lot about preparing for the holidays. Even our church has been beautiful decorated this weekend. And I know that I really enjoy shopping for a great present that I know someone will love and choosing wrapping paper that compliments the decorations up in my living room and tying on a beautiful bow. I know about decorating Christmas trees and making cookies and ensuring that I have carrots to put out on Christmas eve for the reindeer next to the milk and cookies for Santa. I even have special glitter to put on my lawn so the reindeer can find my house easily. Trust me, it works.
But I need God to be bigger than holiday glitter and advent devotions and beautiful hymns. I need God to be bigger than whatever meager preparations I might make to prepare a place in my heart and mind and soul and schedule for the Christ child. Perhaps this is because I feel powerless in the face of recent news. I have had an overwhelming depression settle about me in the last few weeks as I read more and more about black people dying. It seems never ending: the ugly backlashes as people jump to blame the police, the ignorant commentary from either side of the discussion, and the frustration and anger of many who have protested. I mourn for Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin, for the deaths that have not reached national news, for the hundreds upon hundreds of black children who have been killed in Chicago in the last few years, for the racial injustice of our world and the fear that is a part of each and every one of us.
And it isn’t just black lives that matter, of course. A twelve year old white boy in California, Ronin Shimizu, completed suicide Wednesday because he was bullied for being a male cheerleader. And November 20th marked Transgender Day of Remembrance for all those who have been killed because of their gender expression. Around the world, the death toll increases daily in violent conflict. And we continue to see high rates of suicide among returning combat forces and mourn those veterans who are no longer with us.
Beneath all of this news, of course, is our own grief for those who have died who were close to us, who will continue to be missed as the holidays continue without them. Yesterday marked the two year anniversary of a man related to a Bethel family who took his own life - he was one of those soldiers who never quite made it home. How do we prepare for a joyous celebration and the birth of the savior of the world when our hearts are breaking? It is part of the reason I love doing a Blue Christmas service - to acknowledge that the Christmas season is a difficult time for many, not just for those who have lost someone, but for all who struggle to experience the joy of this season. That service will be at Bethel on Dec 22nd if you’d like to join us.
Perhaps what Advent gives us is a time to grieve. This is not just grieving the deaths of people we know and don’t know. As humans, we grieve many things, and there isn’t always a negative connotation with it. New parents celebrate the arrival of a child and also grieve the loss of their life before that child arrived. The same goes with people marrying, moving, or taking on a new job. Life is about these transitions, these times to mourn what is gone and prepare for what is to come. In our grief, we gain perspective on what has been and how we will go forward. When a relationship ends, we take inventory of our missteps and on the beautiful moments shared between two people. As we grieve, we find new reasons to hope, to reach for joy, to prepare our hearts for the wonder that is to come.
So again, Advent can be a time of grieving the year that has gone by with all its hopes and disappointments, aches and pains, and surprises. It is one way that we can prepare for the coming of the Christ child. We must truly take inventory of ourselves and all the delightful and debilitating pieces that make us who we are. Part of what has been so frustrating with the media coverage of these recent events is the blaming. There is one massive blame game going on here. Having worked with those who are homeless here in Madison for over two years now has led me to some insights about racial injustice and I admit to struggles with our justice system, but nothing will change unless it begins with me. In my heart. My mind. My own path.
I’m fairly certain it was Jesus who said something about throwing a stone only if you were without sin yourself. I’ll let you look up how many stones actually got thrown. I think we have a lot of misunderstanding when we talk about those “isms” in our world. It is easy to blame a police officer if you were not in his or her shoes, easy to see the incident in your own way if you were not there. Let us not forget that police officers are often present because other people called them to be present. Those people are us. We are them. We are not free from blame because we were not in Ferguson just as we were not free from blame when millions of Jewish people were killed during the Holocaust. To stand aside and do nothing is to stand on the side of the oppressor. We cannot continue to ignore the incredible loss of life around around us and this is what many of the protesters are crying out about. But the darkness of the world does not exist solely OUT there. The darkness is in here.
I know this is all really heavy. I tried writing a happier sermon that spoke more about the magic of Christmas and how we can prepare our hearts to be changed. But in light of everything happening in the world right now, I needed to talk about how Jesus comes into the midst of this hurt and pain to be with us. I needed the hope of Christmas.
But then we need to invite Jesus into all of it. All of the ugliness within us. All of the ways that we misstep without even realizing it. All of the ways we abuse someone else in our neglect. Here is some truth for you: each of us, in some way, has particular advantages over someone else. We are, each of us, privileged. This is not just about race. After all, as Christians here in the United States, not persecuted for our faith as Christians are in other countries. The list can go on and on but that’s enough to chew on for now. And when I talk specifically about racism, I want to break that down a little more so you can understand what I am really talking about when I talk about that darkness within and how we need to own that reality in ourselves. Being racist, for me, is acknowledging the little, tiny voice in my head that jumps to the conclusion and assumes the presence of a group of black men whispering in a parking lot means there are drugs present or violence to come. It is a hurtful assumption. Would I have been as suspicious if they were white?
For me to prepare the way of the Lord, I need acknowledging that I have a very specific outlook or lens on the world around me and that my assumptions should be questioned regularly. If I do not know the darkness that lurks in my assumptions and ignorance, I am not prepared to confess that to God, just as all those people did when they went to John the Baptizer for a baptism of repentance and forgiveness.
There are perhaps those of you listening that might be thinking that the best way to respond to those little voices is to shut them down or deny them. I’ve heard people say that they do not see race, or gender, or whatever that otherness is about someone. What they are trying to get at is that they want to see everyone equally. And while that would be interesting, it is actually unhelpful. It does no good to say that you do not “see” race, or gender, or religion, or sexuality. I recently listened to a Ted Talk that Ash Beckham did where she talks about her identity as a lesbian and how people have said this to her, that they don’t see race, or gender. She condemns this apathy saying, “If you don’t see my gayness, you do not see me. If it doesn’t matter to you… then you cannot imagine what it is like [to be me]. If you do not see that struggle that is unique to my human experience… then you do not see me.”
In other words, to really value another human being, to acknowledge the worth of another creature of our creator God, we have to see all of someone. The trick to diversity is not to become blind to differences but to see them and all the beautiful variety of this kingdom. We have to learn about what it is like to be a black person living in our country before we can begin to overcome the racism in ourselves. And we must do that before the culture around us begins to respond. Which means that we have to get comfortable asking hard questions of one another. This is preparing the way of the Lord.
Because today’s gospel story is from the perspective of John the Baptizer, who is a bit of an unconventional person. I doubt we would elect him into office. He wears weird clothes and eats bugs and is dunking people in the river after the confess their sins to him. The little voice inside us might have been saying, “There’s no way I’m getting near that guy.” And yet, it is that little judgemental voice inside every one of us that would have prevented us from hearing the first news of Jesus Christ. Because John immediately points to someone greater than himself, to someone who is coming.
So the crowds that went down to that river were merely preparing for the Lord. They took inventory of the ugliness inside themselves and unburdened their souls in confession. In truth, I’m not sure there is much we can do to truly prepare for the presence of Christ among us. God doesn’t need our cookies or our Christmas stars. God needs our hearts in whatever shape they are in. But this requires knowing our own selves and where we stand in the world. It requires loving one another enough to say when someone is misstepping and they do not realize it. It requires paying attention to unconventional people. Because I wonder how many of us would have missed “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the son of God” because it first came from a man in crazy clothes who ate bugs. And I do not want us to miss the beautiful birth of the savior of the world because it happens in a dirty barn, to an unwed Jewish mother, in a foreign country.
Hear the good news: Jesus is coming. Coming in an unexpected way into the muck and mire of all our sin, all of the brokenness of the world, all the beauty of christmas trees and caroling. Into the ordinary and extraordinary and mysterious. The Christ child will be born to us. And we give thanks that God comes to us in bread and wine and also in the form of a beautiful baby boy.
But for now, it is Advent. So we prepare. And grieve. And hope.
The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,
"See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,'"
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.
Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."
This is what John the Baptizer preaches. This is what we hear from the prophet Isaiah. “Prepare the way of the Lord.” This is what the Advent season is all about. Preparing for the birth of that tiny baby boy who will change the world with his life and death and resurrection. This is what we take time to prepare for.
And yet, I am not altogether sure that we know what or how we prepare for the coming of the Christ child. We all know a lot about preparing for the holidays. Even our church has been beautiful decorated this weekend. And I know that I really enjoy shopping for a great present that I know someone will love and choosing wrapping paper that compliments the decorations up in my living room and tying on a beautiful bow. I know about decorating Christmas trees and making cookies and ensuring that I have carrots to put out on Christmas eve for the reindeer next to the milk and cookies for Santa. I even have special glitter to put on my lawn so the reindeer can find my house easily. Trust me, it works.
But I need God to be bigger than holiday glitter and advent devotions and beautiful hymns. I need God to be bigger than whatever meager preparations I might make to prepare a place in my heart and mind and soul and schedule for the Christ child. Perhaps this is because I feel powerless in the face of recent news. I have had an overwhelming depression settle about me in the last few weeks as I read more and more about black people dying. It seems never ending: the ugly backlashes as people jump to blame the police, the ignorant commentary from either side of the discussion, and the frustration and anger of many who have protested. I mourn for Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin, for the deaths that have not reached national news, for the hundreds upon hundreds of black children who have been killed in Chicago in the last few years, for the racial injustice of our world and the fear that is a part of each and every one of us.
And it isn’t just black lives that matter, of course. A twelve year old white boy in California, Ronin Shimizu, completed suicide Wednesday because he was bullied for being a male cheerleader. And November 20th marked Transgender Day of Remembrance for all those who have been killed because of their gender expression. Around the world, the death toll increases daily in violent conflict. And we continue to see high rates of suicide among returning combat forces and mourn those veterans who are no longer with us.
Beneath all of this news, of course, is our own grief for those who have died who were close to us, who will continue to be missed as the holidays continue without them. Yesterday marked the two year anniversary of a man related to a Bethel family who took his own life - he was one of those soldiers who never quite made it home. How do we prepare for a joyous celebration and the birth of the savior of the world when our hearts are breaking? It is part of the reason I love doing a Blue Christmas service - to acknowledge that the Christmas season is a difficult time for many, not just for those who have lost someone, but for all who struggle to experience the joy of this season. That service will be at Bethel on Dec 22nd if you’d like to join us.
Perhaps what Advent gives us is a time to grieve. This is not just grieving the deaths of people we know and don’t know. As humans, we grieve many things, and there isn’t always a negative connotation with it. New parents celebrate the arrival of a child and also grieve the loss of their life before that child arrived. The same goes with people marrying, moving, or taking on a new job. Life is about these transitions, these times to mourn what is gone and prepare for what is to come. In our grief, we gain perspective on what has been and how we will go forward. When a relationship ends, we take inventory of our missteps and on the beautiful moments shared between two people. As we grieve, we find new reasons to hope, to reach for joy, to prepare our hearts for the wonder that is to come.
So again, Advent can be a time of grieving the year that has gone by with all its hopes and disappointments, aches and pains, and surprises. It is one way that we can prepare for the coming of the Christ child. We must truly take inventory of ourselves and all the delightful and debilitating pieces that make us who we are. Part of what has been so frustrating with the media coverage of these recent events is the blaming. There is one massive blame game going on here. Having worked with those who are homeless here in Madison for over two years now has led me to some insights about racial injustice and I admit to struggles with our justice system, but nothing will change unless it begins with me. In my heart. My mind. My own path.
I’m fairly certain it was Jesus who said something about throwing a stone only if you were without sin yourself. I’ll let you look up how many stones actually got thrown. I think we have a lot of misunderstanding when we talk about those “isms” in our world. It is easy to blame a police officer if you were not in his or her shoes, easy to see the incident in your own way if you were not there. Let us not forget that police officers are often present because other people called them to be present. Those people are us. We are them. We are not free from blame because we were not in Ferguson just as we were not free from blame when millions of Jewish people were killed during the Holocaust. To stand aside and do nothing is to stand on the side of the oppressor. We cannot continue to ignore the incredible loss of life around around us and this is what many of the protesters are crying out about. But the darkness of the world does not exist solely OUT there. The darkness is in here.
I know this is all really heavy. I tried writing a happier sermon that spoke more about the magic of Christmas and how we can prepare our hearts to be changed. But in light of everything happening in the world right now, I needed to talk about how Jesus comes into the midst of this hurt and pain to be with us. I needed the hope of Christmas.
But then we need to invite Jesus into all of it. All of the ugliness within us. All of the ways that we misstep without even realizing it. All of the ways we abuse someone else in our neglect. Here is some truth for you: each of us, in some way, has particular advantages over someone else. We are, each of us, privileged. This is not just about race. After all, as Christians here in the United States, not persecuted for our faith as Christians are in other countries. The list can go on and on but that’s enough to chew on for now. And when I talk specifically about racism, I want to break that down a little more so you can understand what I am really talking about when I talk about that darkness within and how we need to own that reality in ourselves. Being racist, for me, is acknowledging the little, tiny voice in my head that jumps to the conclusion and assumes the presence of a group of black men whispering in a parking lot means there are drugs present or violence to come. It is a hurtful assumption. Would I have been as suspicious if they were white?
For me to prepare the way of the Lord, I need acknowledging that I have a very specific outlook or lens on the world around me and that my assumptions should be questioned regularly. If I do not know the darkness that lurks in my assumptions and ignorance, I am not prepared to confess that to God, just as all those people did when they went to John the Baptizer for a baptism of repentance and forgiveness.
In other words, to really value another human being, to acknowledge the worth of another creature of our creator God, we have to see all of someone. The trick to diversity is not to become blind to differences but to see them and all the beautiful variety of this kingdom. We have to learn about what it is like to be a black person living in our country before we can begin to overcome the racism in ourselves. And we must do that before the culture around us begins to respond. Which means that we have to get comfortable asking hard questions of one another. This is preparing the way of the Lord.
Because today’s gospel story is from the perspective of John the Baptizer, who is a bit of an unconventional person. I doubt we would elect him into office. He wears weird clothes and eats bugs and is dunking people in the river after the confess their sins to him. The little voice inside us might have been saying, “There’s no way I’m getting near that guy.” And yet, it is that little judgemental voice inside every one of us that would have prevented us from hearing the first news of Jesus Christ. Because John immediately points to someone greater than himself, to someone who is coming.
So the crowds that went down to that river were merely preparing for the Lord. They took inventory of the ugliness inside themselves and unburdened their souls in confession. In truth, I’m not sure there is much we can do to truly prepare for the presence of Christ among us. God doesn’t need our cookies or our Christmas stars. God needs our hearts in whatever shape they are in. But this requires knowing our own selves and where we stand in the world. It requires loving one another enough to say when someone is misstepping and they do not realize it. It requires paying attention to unconventional people. Because I wonder how many of us would have missed “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the son of God” because it first came from a man in crazy clothes who ate bugs. And I do not want us to miss the beautiful birth of the savior of the world because it happens in a dirty barn, to an unwed Jewish mother, in a foreign country.
Hear the good news: Jesus is coming. Coming in an unexpected way into the muck and mire of all our sin, all of the brokenness of the world, all the beauty of christmas trees and caroling. Into the ordinary and extraordinary and mysterious. The Christ child will be born to us. And we give thanks that God comes to us in bread and wine and also in the form of a beautiful baby boy.
But for now, it is Advent. So we prepare. And grieve. And hope.
Just gorgeous!
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