Sunday, December 17, 2006

Who We Are Vs. What We Do

Zephaniah 3:14-20
Isaiah 12:2-6
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

Few people have changed the course of history more than the Wright Brothers. One hundred and three years ago today, these bicycle-making brothers soared into space on the wings of a small bi-wing airplane, achieving an altitude of perhaps 30 feet. In the process, they developed steering techniques that are still being used today in airplanes, spacecraft, submarines and robots.

On December 17, 1903, Orville took off from the Outer Banks of North Carolina, near Kitty Hawk, and flew the gasoline-powered Wright Flyer for 12 seconds. That same day, Wilbur piloted the plane for 59 seconds, covering a grand total of 852 feet. And thus, too, the advent of the age of aeronautics had begun.[1]

On that day, people started to think differently. What had been impossible was now possible. Worlds that before that day were inaccessible were now accessible. Bill Gates puts it in perspective when he says “The Wright Brothers created the single greatest cultural force since the invention of writing. The airplane became the first World Wide Web, bringing people, languages ideas, and values together.”[2]

Not many such days come along in history when people from a particular moment start to think differently. The day a baby was born in Bethlehem was such a day. With his birth, everything changed. We still discuss the meaning and impact of the life which came into the world one night 2,000 years later.

Today we continue the journey through Advent toward the birth of Jesus with the second part of the introduction of the ministry of John the Baptist. But this part of the story is not easy to hear.

It begins with John addressing the crowds that came out to be baptized by him. Now, the crowds were made up of Jewish the sons and daughters of Abraham who had come hearing John’s cry, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” There is no reason to doubt the sincerity of the people who had come. I trust that all who come to be baptized come by the love of God and the call to be a member of the covenant community, whether two thousand years ago or next week. John has something else to say.

He calls those who have come, the entire crowd, a brood of vipers. He wonders who had warned them of the wrath to come. He blasts these baptism-seekers, comparing them to a nest of poisonous snakes slithering away from a fiery doom. Like the prophets before him, John speaks of divine judgment and the wrath of God, predicting that an overpowering force from heaven will come to destroy the wicked of the world.

We read on to discover that there are tax collectors in the crowd and soldiers too; neither of these groups is very highly regarded. Both tax collectors and soldiers were known for exacting more than they were due from the impoverished and the weak. Exploit is a good word. So it is easy for us to say, “Ah! John is speaking to these folks, not to the regular people in the crowd. Not the people like you and me.” It is easy to say this; it lets us off the hook. But it is a hook we can’t wriggle off of so easily.

John spoke to the crowds that came out to be baptized. These are devout people. These are God fearing people. They have heard of John’s baptism and want to learn more. They have heard of John’s baptism and they want to participate in it. They are honest and sincere; I have no reason to believe anyone in the crowd is beyond redemption. And here it is, “You brood of vipers.”

Let’s just say if I had greeted Ken with these words at the font last week, I expect we would not have celebrated his joining the congregation. This is not what you would call a “seeker-sensitive” worship experience.[3]

John is here to shake up the world, not to make the masses feel good about themselves. John warns the crowd not to rest on the laurels of their ancestry. He reminds them yes, you are the children of Abraham. You are the children of the covenant the Lord made with Abraham. You are the children of the one the Lord chose. This is a very special status. It is to be honored and revered by the people. And God is able to raise children of Abraham from these stones if so inclined. God is able to raise children of the covenant from the Gentiles if so inclined.

The passage tells us that even as the people of the nation of Israel are the trees in the grove of the Lord, the trees which are barren will be removed. The trees that do not bear good fruit will be cut down.

Yes, who they are is important, it is very important, but alone it is nothing.

You know, I just don’t see John being invited to fill the pulpit when Joel Osteen goes on vacation.

So far during Advent we have been told by scripture to wait and to prepare. It is apt that we should now ask the question asked by the crowds in verse 10, “What then should we do?”

John answers very simply: share and treat one another fairly.

“Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” John calls those who have plenty to give to those who have nothing. John realizes that there are those who are not able to give, so he does not call everyone to give. There are widows and orphans who are not protected. They have no advocate. They live on the edge of every society. They are not burdened to support others because they do not have the resources to support themselves. Instead, those who are blessed are called to extend their blessings to those who have none.

The other instruction John gives is to treat one another fairly. I believe this is what lies at the root of John’s call to “be satisfied with your wages.” More than “be satisfied,” John tells these groups to treat their charges fairly. He is not telling the workers of the world to quit complaining and be happy with their lot.

In a day when tax collectors could demand whatever they want, returning only a specific portion to Roman authorities, shaking down the people for an extra coin or two was a lucrative way of making money. So too soldiers would threaten people with arrest or worse if they did not receive what they wanted. John told these people to treat others fairly, not to take more than was due and not to extort extra money from anyone. In our way of speaking, he was saying ask the boss for a raise; don’t take it from those you serve. He was not saying be satisfied because you are getting what you are worth.

Earlier I said that who the nation of Israel is is important, it is important to God. But alone, it is nothing. John tells the nation that along with who they are, what they do is important. Only when these two things come together is the covenant full. Like our Call to Worship, though our praise and thanksgiving, the love and promises of God reach their fullest through the call of God and the response of the congregation. We are called by the Lord, John makes this clear. But he also makes it just as clear that we must respond, and our response must bear fruit, to become partners in the blessings of God.

Elie Wiesel tells this Hasidic tale:

When the great Rabbi Israel Bal Shem-Tov saw misfortune threatening the Jews it was his custom to go into a certain part of the forest to meditate. There he would light a fire, say a special prayer, and the miracle would be accomplished and misfortune averted.

Later, when his disciple, the celebrated Magrid of Mezritch had occasion, for the same reason, to intercede with heaven, he would go to the same place in the forest and say: “Master of the Universe, listen! I do not know how to light the fire, but I am still able to say the prayers.” And again the miracle would be accomplished.

Still later, Rabbi Moshe-Leib of Sasov, in order to save his people once more, would go into the forest and say: “I do not know how to light the fire, I do not know the prayer, but I know the place and this must be sufficient.” It was sufficient and the miracle was accomplished.

Then it fell to Rabbi Israel of Rizhyn to overcome misfortune. Sitting in his armchair, his head in his hands, he spoke to God: “I am unable to light the fire and I do not know the prayer; I cannot even find the place in the forest. All I can do is to tell the story and that must be sufficient.” And it was sufficient. God made humankind because God loves stories.[4]

The thought that God loves stories is in line with Judaism. Rabbis have been telling stories since the dawn of dawn. And today’s gospel reading gives us quite a story. Like Luke’s gospel, this story tells us that who we are is important. Each of the characters in it is a Rabbi, a leader of the synagogue, the assembly. But what they do is also important. Whether by long ritual or simple prayer, they lift the concerns of the nation before the Lord. Through their actions, the Lord averts tragedy. Their actions were sufficient and the miracle is accomplished.

During Advent, we come with the story; the story of the coming of a baby who is the Christ. And this story makes us think differently, it makes us different. This is what Advent is about. Meeting the Center of the Universe. Meeting the Christ. Changing our thinking. Finding a new source of power, and then turning it into the mighty wind that God has blown across the landscape of human life.

Power and wind. Sounds like the formula for flying, doesn’t it?

Jesus the Messiah baptizes us with Spirit and with fire, and invites us to soar with him into a life of repentance and righteousness. With his mighty wind beneath our wings, we can ascend to a whole new level of living, one in which we are right with God and with one another.

John cries out with the voice of the prophets. The voices that call us to wait, prepare, and respond. Today we respond.

[1] “The Wright story,” Wright Brothers Web Site, First-to-fly.com/History/. Retrieved May 19, 2003.
[2] Gates, Bill. Wright Brothers Web Site, First-to-fly.com/. Retrieved May 19, 2003.
[3] Kaylor, Bob, Park City Methodist Church in Homiletics Magazine, http://homileticsonline.com/subscriber/printer_friendly_installment.asp?_id=3214, accessed Nov. 6, 2006.
[4] Hasidic tale told by Elie Wiesel, from The Gates of the Forest, Schoken Books, 1982 in An Advent Sourcebook, O’Gorman, Thomas J., Ed. Archdiocese of Chicago, Liturgical Training Publications, 1988, page 82-83.

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