Still in the Wilderness Preached at Wollaston Congregational Church On December 16th, 2018 Scripture: Luke 3:7-18 It’s the third Sunday in Advent: “Joy”! Time is running out, Christmas is almost here. Lights are now up, all over town. Shopping is becoming increasingly frantic. Holiday parties are in full swing. Christmas is almost here. And yet, in the Revised Common Lectionary, this Sunday, we are presented with John the Baptist. The one who prepares the way. The one who cries out in the wilderness. The one who is the announcer. And I’m left wondering: Where is Mary? Where are the shepherds? Is it not time to get on the road to Bethlehem? Should the manger scene be set, all ready for the baby Jesus? What are we doing, still out in the wilderness, with the wild honey-and-locust-eating John, giving us scary images of a mighty God with a winnowing fork in his hand? You see, the Revised Common Lectionary people (who put together our weekly readings) must have it wrong. They didn’t anticipate Christmas 2018. I used to enjoy those “look back on the year” programs that were on TV around this time of year. They’d show the highlights of the year almost passed, and we’d get sentimental looking back. If we were to put together one of those shows this year, I wonder what joyous things we’d celebrate. Maybe
And for our church, what joyous things would we celebrate? Perhaps
And yet, while there are the joyous events that can give us hope, a hard look at the year past includes some sobering facts, For example: - the 2018 wildfire season was the most destructive and deadly season on record in California.
- Also, 113 people were killed or injured in school shootings this year in the United States. We all remember the tragedy at Stoneman Douglas High School on Valentine’s Day. We all remember Santa Fe High School in Texas. And we remember attacks on places of worship: Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, and the attempted shooting on First Baptist Church in Jeffersontown, Kentucky.[2] - And, of course, closest to home: two of Quincy’s teenagers in a tragic car accident the day after Thanksgiving, one killed and the other seriously injured, resulting in grief throughout the community. - And, of course, closest to home: two of Quincy’s teenagers in a tragic car accident the day after Thanksgiving, one killed and the other seriously injured, resulting in grief throughout the community. This year, of all years, perhaps we are longing for the baby Jesus to be put in the manger. This is a year when we need him more than ever. This Advent season “How Long, Oh Lord?” might become our cry. How long before Christ’s compassion becomes a reality in all the world? How long before we are reunited with loved ones, lost to us by separation and by death? How long before humanity figures out how to care and protect this planet that is our home? Is this the year that these gifts will come with the infant Jesus? In the midst of the call for civil rights for African Americans, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. cried out “how long?” The response was “not long!” Dr. King was addressing marchers on the steps of the State Capitol in Montgomery, Alabama, after the completion of the final march on Selma on March 25th 1965. The three marches on Selma had been organized to demonstrate against the disenfranchisement of African Americans in the United States. Violence committed against the non-violent protestors during the first two marches caused a national outcry. And so, the third march was protected by members of the Alabama National Guard under federal command. When the protesters reached the Capitol, Dr. King delivered his “How long, not long” speech. The African American marchers could not wait for the justice that was to come. They were being separated and segregated, mistreated and downtrodden, and still their voices of outrage were being silenced. It had been a long hard struggle, the struggle continues even today, yet Selma was a milestone. Dr. King was aware of the impatience of people with his strategies of nonviolent resistance. And so he declared: “Somebody's asking, ‘How long … will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive bright-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne? Somebody's asking, ‘When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Selma and Birmingham and communities all over the South, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?’” [3] The response was “not long.” Not long in God’s time. "How long? Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice." We want to know how long? How long to the birth? How long to the manger? How long to holy innocence, flickering candles, silent night?And yet … and yet, this morning we have John the Baptist, preaching repentance in the wilderness. And maybe, Revised Common Lectionary people, it is because we are simply not ready. Not that we haven’t done our shopping or prepared our food. Not that we haven’t put up the tree, or strung lights all around. We’re not ready, because we’ve never been ready. Not this year, not the year before, or the year before that. In fact not even 2000 years before that. Humanity is not ready for what God would have us do to make all things right. Humanity is not ready to face our grief, aloneness and separation by participating in true communion with one another. - Not ready to lay down our weapons. - Not ready to welcome the stranger without fear. - Not ready to turn our faces in the direction of both Bethlehem and Jerusalem. - Not ready to usher in the kingdom of peace, love and justice. John the Baptist reminds us, yet again, that while we prepare for the baby in the manger, that child has already been. John prepares his people for Christ, but John also looks forward to what that child’s coming will ultimately mean. John’s vision was a collapse of time. The time between Jesus coming to the world as a vulnerable infant, and the era of justice and peace passing by like the blink of an eye. John’s work is to prepare his followers who gather in great crowds to hear him preach. If we listen he will also prepare us. He’ll tell us, once again - because we are so slow - here is the way you should live: If you have food, clothing, warmth: share. If you have authority, administrative or physical power, that’s a serious responsibility, use it for the coming of God’s reign. When it seems that all creation is crying out for the Lord to come quickly, to deliver those who are suffering --- we might well wonder what is the delay? And yet, in tension with Dr. King’s cry of “how long?/not long,” there is that part of us that wants to push that moment back. Blue Grass singer Bob Amos asks “will he wait a little longer?” (to give us time to gather in). The coming of the reign of justice and peace, the reign of God, scares us. John’s image of the mighty One with the winnowing fork in hand is worrisome because we know we are not ready. We know that we have behaviors, habits, attitudes, and privileges that would be thrown into the fire. What will happen to my extra coats, stored away for comfort in every season? What will happen to those of us with undeserved authority and power? Who, without our even realizing it, is dependent on our generosity, our behavior, our whims? When I ride on the T do I notice the needs of others around me, and try to assist? When I go to the grocery story, how do my choices impact those on the lowest rung of the economic ladder? And what are the thoughts and feelings that do not orient us toward God? What about our resentments … our unresolved anger … our shame … or our need to always win the argument? What about our internet and viewing habits? What about the substances that appease our appetites, but keep us from connection and community? Are we ready to throw these things into the fire? Even as we are not ready, my suspicion is that God is not ready either. In spite of all John’s imagery of the threshing floor and unquenchable fire, God does not want to call “time” until every single one of God’s children has returned home, like the prodigal. And so the “How long?”/”Not long” longing exists in tension with “Will [God] wait a little longer?” Joy is an enigmatic quality in the midst of this tension. May we rejoice that it will not be long – in God’s time – before the moral arc of the universe meets justice. And yet, it is long enough – because God is willing to wait – to receive us. And that is also reason for joy. And so, this third Sunday in Advent, let’s ask for the courage to turn toward God, as John would have us do. When it feels too scary, let’s take it a step at a time and follow his simple instructions. Give warmth to those who are cold, food to those who are hungry, and use any power and authority we may have for God’s purposes. May all God’s people say, Amen [1] https://www.actionagainsthunger.org/story/world-refugee-day-2018-number-forcibly-displaced-people-reaches-record-high?utm_source=googlegrants&utm_medium=cpc&utm_term=%2Bworld%20%2Brefugee&utm_campaign=grants&gclid=CjwKCAiAo8jgBRAVEiwAJUXKqJab1RE_wBcQjk-yzc8IiDYj1fqC0h7u7f49vCXCH8Lk_1R8duvryBoCZaMQAvD_BwE [2] https://www.bbc.com/news/business-46507514 [3] http://www.legacy.com/news/explore-history/article/mlk-our-god-is-marching-on-how-long-not-long
1 Comment
Ruth stewart
12/18/2018 05:03:27 pm
Wonderful as usual
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