O come, O come, Emmanuel. Amen.
The
lectionary’s move through Advent mirrors our move through this season. A few
weeks ago we were entering a season of putting up Christmas decorations and
starting to listen to holiday music. But now things are getting real – you no
longer have all month to buy gifts or plan for parties. Christmas is no longer
something on the horizon, it’s nearly here and there are things that need to
get done. As we began Advent a few weeks ago, we talked about themes like hope
and God’s promises, but in today’s reading from Luke, things are getting very
real as John the Baptist begins his preaching.
John
the Baptist is a really fascinating character, especially to a preacher. How in
the world does he get away with calling his audience a “brood of vipers” and
telling them that God could raise up faithful people from the stones to replace
them? If I began my sermon by saying “You all are terrible people and we could
just go grab some random people off the street and replace you and we wouldn’t
miss a beat,” how might you react? I’m not interested in finding out, so I’m
not going to try that experiment. There must have been something special about
John the Baptist though for people to stick around to hear his message, he must
have been speaking some truth that resonated with them through the insults.
John’s
style isn’t mine. John doesn’t seem to worry about hurting feelings, but I do. I
am very aware of the impact of my words, especially words spoken from this
pulpit. My job as a preacher is to spend time with the Scripture passages for
the week, to study them, to pray with them, and to listen for God’s Spirit in
responding to the question – “what does God want to say to these people through
these passages?” Sometimes it is a word of comfort, sometimes a word of praise
to God, sometimes a word of challenge. I very much believe that the sermon is
but one movement of the conversation between God and God’s people. God spoke to
the authors of the Bible, and has spoken to people for generations. This week,
God spoke to me through these texts, and today I speak to you. It is my prayer
and my intent that the conversation continues even beyond this sermon though.
I want you to know that I
am always open to dialogue – if you want to know more about what I say, ask me.
If you want to know where an idea came from, ask me. If I say something that
you don’t understand, ask me about it. If I say something that angers you, talk
to me about it. There is a reason that I preach from a manuscript, and that reason
is that the words that I have chosen have been prayed over and labored over for
days. Words are very powerful, and so I choose them very intentionally. I take
the honor and responsibility of preaching very seriously. And so if you are
ever hurt, or angered, or distressed by my words, in a similar way, I ask that
you take some time before responding. The front steps of the church is not the
place for sermon feedback, nor is an email on Sunday afternoon. If something in
a sermon strikes a nerve, pray about it, explore it, question it. Then give me
a call and we’ll talk.
And this model is what we
see in today’s text from Luke. John has insulted them, told them that their
faith means nothing unless they act on it, and that the ax is lying at the tree
of their judgment. An anticipated response might have to get defensive, or to
challenge John’s credentials, or to threaten to leave this wilderness
congregation. But they didn’t do any of those things; instead, they asked
questions. Three times in these verses the question comes – “what should we do
/ what should we do / what should we do.”
John’s answer is to “bear
fruit worthy of repentance.” Repentance is at the heart of the Gospel, but it
is very misunderstood. If you look up “repent” in a thesaurus, you’ll see synonyms
such as: regret, apologize, be sorry. But that isn’t what repentance means.
Repentance, in Greek, is a compound word and it literally means “to change your
mind.” In Hebrew, the word means to physically turn around. Repentance is not
something that you feel or say, it is something that you do. Repentance means
that you act differently than you used to.
John ties this repentance
to Baptism, and this is the Church’s historical understanding of Baptism. When
you go down into those waters of Baptism, or have them poured over your head,
you die and emerge as a new person in Christ. To be Baptized, to be repentant,
is to be changed. How has your Baptism changed you?
To be perfectly honest
with you, the other day I said to someone: “I’d love to be able to say what I
really think about certain political candidates, but I can’t because of the
collar that I wear.” As a priest, I am judged more closely and I have greater
expectations put on me. And so, in a good way, my ordination tempers some of my
gut reactions and calls me to be more generous and compassionate than I
otherwise would be. But I realized that, though those things are true, it’s not
because I’m a priest, at least, it shouldn’t be because of that. Those things
are true because I have been Baptized, and that calling to be more gracious,
more deferential, more loving that we’d ordinarily be is a call extended to all
of us. Baptism means that you turn away from the sin of your gut reaction, the
sin of name calling, the sin of judging others without engaging them in
dialogue, the sin of storming off in anger.
John the Baptist uses the
metaphor of fruit to talk about what repentance means. There’s good fruit, bad
fruit, and no fruit. Bad fruit is pretty easy to see – terrorism is bad fruit, lying
on your tax return is bad fruit, burning Qur’ans in Jesus name is bad fruit,
cheating on your spouse is bad fruit. John says that these trees will be cut
down and thrown into the fire. It’s important to realize though that the fire
isn’t about punishment. The purpose of the fire isn’t to destroy the chaff, it
is to save the wheat. Judgment is always good news if it is accompanied by the
opportunity to repent. So don’t ever give up on bad fruit, God is the one who
makes all things new, so there is always hope for repentance and redemption.
Then there are the trees
that don’t bear any fruit. These trees just take up resources, but don’t
produce anything good. This is people saying “I’ll keep you in my thoughts and
prayers” and then do nothing more. Thoughts and prayers are important, and I’m
not even talking about the recent debates in the media about the efficacy of
prayer. My hunch is that a lot of people say “I’ll pray for you,” and then don’t
because they get so busy and forget. That is not bearing any fruit. People who
rest on their laurels don’t bear any fruit. John warns the crowd “Don’t say ‘We
have Abraham as our ancestor.’” Or in modern language, don’t say “my family
founded this church, so I don’t need to actually show up on Sundays” or “I’ve
been Baptized, so my salvation is secure and now I can live as I please.”
And then there is the
good fruit which we are exhorted to produce. The crowd, tax collectors, and
soldiers ask “what should we do?” And John tells them what good fruit looks
like. It’s giving away an extra coat, it’s doing an honest job, it’s not
abusing your power over others. Bearing good fruit is not some hugely heroic
action that is reserved for the saints. Bearing good fruit is a part of
everyday living, it really is as simple as doing your best to follow Jesus.
John could have gone bigger with his responses, he could have told people to
sell all that they have and give to the poor, he could have told the tax
collectors to stop working for the oppressive Romans, he could have told the
soldiers to become pacifists. Those are big solutions to big problems, and John
knows that people can’t easily make changes, or repent, in monumental ways, but
they can strive to be a better person each day. Anyone can align themselves
with God’s hopes for the world.
My
brothers and sisters, we desperately need more good fruit in our nation right
now. We need to repent and go in a new direction, and that direction is toward
the Gospel. Whether it’s climate change, gun control, immigration, capital
punishment, abortion, or Presidential primaries, we’re not doing a very good
job of putting the Gospel first in our lives. We are not bearing Gospel fruit.
The Gospel is not informing or dictating our actions. The ax is lying at the
root of the tree; it is time to repent. It is time to prioritize the Gospel
over our personal ideologies or political affiliations.
There
has been some interesting research done recently about why people hold certain
opinions. For example, take the Trans-Pacific Partnership trade deal or the Keystone
XL pipeline. I’m fairly confident that most of us have not read through that
trade deal or fully researched the economic and environmental impact of that
pipeline. And yet, most of us probably have an opinion on those political
topics. Where do those opinions come from? The research says that we tend to
agree with people with whom we associate. So if you identify as Republican, you
are likely in favor of both, and if you identify as Democrat, you are against
both. The findings of this study are that people will believe polls which can
be intentionally be skewed, or incorrect posts on Facebook, or talk show hosts
with agendas if what they find resonates with their preconceived notions. This
is something of which we need to repent and change. What if, instead, we
developed our opinions based on faith and not politics?
We
need to fact-check with the Gospel. What if our opinion on a topic like gun
control was rooted not in our political affiliation, but in our Baptism? I’ve
yet to preach about this topic at St. Luke’s, but the time has come. And I do
so not to be divisive or to tell you what to think. I have no intention of
debating or parsing the Second Amendment or proposing how Congress should
regulate firearms. Those are systemic issues. But like John the Baptist, I’m
interested in what good people who follow Jesus can do in their own lives.
Many
likely know the poem written by a German pastor in the 1940s – “First they came
for the Socialists, and I did not speak out because I was not a Socialist. Then
they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out because I was not a
Trade Unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out because I
was not a Jew. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak for
me.” I am not willing to wait to speak out until after my daughters’ schools
are on lockdown nor I am not willing to wait until I have to preside at a
funeral for a member of this parish who is killed by gun violence.
Contrary
to what you may think, I’m not anti-gun, nor am I “liberal.” I’m a follower of
Jesus, sometimes that means I tend to agree with one political party in this
country, and sometimes it means that I agree with the other. But this isn’t
about politics, it’s about the Gospel. If we take our Baptism seriously, we
have to read all of our actions through the Gospel. And so, for us, the
question isn’t about rights or freedoms, but rather – how do I follow the
crucified Prince of Peace who told his followers to put down their weapons
during his arrest? Is owning a firearm compatible with faith? I’m not going to
answer that question for you, nor am I suggesting that there isn’t a good
answer to that question. That’s between you and God, but that question needs to
be a forefront of this discussion. John the Baptist urges us to repent and
return to God.
And the same is true for
all of the other “hot button” topics dividing our communities right now. The
lens that we need to be seeing the world through isn’t big government versus
individual rights, it’s not a social safety net versus giving businesses the
room to grow, but rather the question is, “given that the ax is at the root of
the tree, how should we live?” Of what do we need to repent? Where does our
faith need to speak more loudly? In what new direction is God calling to go?
O come, O come, Emmanuel.
The text from Philippians tells us to “Rejoice,” and we ought to. We rejoice
because Jesus has come to show us that there is another way. John the Baptist
prepares the way for Jesus by inviting us to change our minds, to turn towards
God, to reorient our lives according to the Gospel, not news organizations,
lobbyists, or voter registration cards. This isn’t about some of us being and
right and others wrong, we all need to repent and move forward together in
faith. Bearing the fruit of repentance doesn’t mean that you have to be a hero
or a martyr, it just means that you are called to reflect the peace, justice,
and love of God each day. In AA, a common adage is that you don’t have to agree
to not drink for the rest of your life, you just have to agree to not drink
today. Living into our Baptism is no different. Each day, may God give us the
strength to repent of all that turns us away from God’s hopes for us, may God
give us the grace to choose love over sin, and may God give us the wisdom to
know which roads bring us closer to God and which take us away from him. The ax
is at the tree, its’ time to repent. O come, O come, Emmanuel. Amen.
