The Mood of the Brood

Philippians 4:1-9; Luke 4:4-9

December 16, 2018

Let me tell you how this piece of worship came together. It began with this text exchange between me and our daughter, who was in the middle of finals at UVA when we had this barely edited chat last week:

Her: I have nothing to do all week except study and write this paper

Me: sounds like a good enough week ... you wanna write a sermon, too?

Her: absolutely not

Seconds later, her, again: god, and do good; there you go

Me: lolz; thanks. that'll do nicely ... I mean, the kids are doing a bunch of worship this Sunday so four words is probably sufficient

Her: I mean probably; It’s at least a solid start

oh also christmas is coming so yeah that’s also an important part right now

Me: so, maybe, god, baby jesus, and do good

Her: yeah, but say “coming” too cause that's the word of the season; Advent would also work if you want to get fancy

Me: I'll add coming right after baby jesus ... this sermon is getting longer by the minute

Her: just take one minute to say each of those words and it'll probably take up the right amount of time

Me: Maybe just say each word, and have a minute of silence for contemplation 🙂

Her: oohh that sounds fancy; that's like almost real; it would almost work

Me: almost

Her: you could actually do that

Me: Imma have to give you an honorarium

So, we’ve got God, baby Jesus, Advent, go and do good. Amen.

Hm, that’s almost it. I decided to augment it with some art work in the bulletin.

So, we’ve got the image from God: An Autobiography, because, when you do a Google image search on the word God you get a lot of weird stuff.

The text from Isaiah, that we used in the call to worship, offers some descriptors. God is my salvation. God is my strength and my might. With God comes joy for God is worthy of our songs of praise.

I invite you to ponder, quietly, for just a moment, the word God, and pay attention to whatever images come to mind.

*****

The young woman is great with child, and her child shall be called wonderful, counselor, mighty God, prince of peace. He will be named Jesus.

As Paul wrote to the Philippians, the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard you hears and your minds in Christ Jesus. In this, Paul says, we will find rejoicing. Rejoice in the Lord always, again I will say, Rejoice.

I invite you, again, to ponder quietly for a moment, the word Jesus, and, again, pay attention to whatever images come to mind.

*****

Go and do good. That’s basically what Paul says, too: Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.

That sounds just fine! Indeed, it sounds worthy of rejoicing.

So what’s up with John the Baptizer? What’s up with the gospel text on this third Sunday of Advent when we’re gathering close to the manger? The halls are well decked. The carols are playing. Even the Apostle Paul says, “Rejoice!”

But John? John seems rather, well, brooding. John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “you brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance.”

Well, John, a very merry Christmas to you, too! Why such a foul mood in this festive season?

So, why do you suppose this passage shows up in the lectionary during Advent?

*****

Bear fruits worthy of repentance. To me that’s the key piece. Repentance – the root in the Greek is metanoia. It means to turn, as one would turn on a path to get headed in the right direction.

I suppose that people in every time and context this side of the kindom of God need to turn again and again and again to get headed in the right direction. Some times feel a bit more lost and confused than others, to be sure.

Whether that’s a personal, familial, local situation – and we’ve all been in those – or a more systemic situation of confusion and being lost – and we’re all certainly living through one of those these days – we stand in need of turning, of being turned, of choosing to turn, of turning together into the light promised even in the midst of the present darkness.

So, to sum up: God, baby Jesus coming, go and do good. Or, as a prayer: God, draw near to us as we draw near to the manger, open to the coming again of Jesus. May we be turned together to go out into the world rejoicing to be your partners in your goodness, your love, your justice, and your peace. Amen.

A New Outfit

December 9, 2018

Baruch 5:1-7; Luke 3:1-6

“Take off the garment of your sorrow and affliction.”

Tis the season, I suppose. Lots of us do give and receive new items of clothing around Christmas. I can certainly recall the days when most of my friends’ fathers wore ties every day, so the new tie for dad was a go-to Christmas present. Hats and scarves are always nice, too. Holiday sweaters are a thing.

The robe of righteousness, on the other hand, is really hard to find in most stores.

I actually went to Amazon and searched. Try it. You’ll find some books and songs by that title, but you will not find an actual “robe of righteousness.” I was disappointed. Maybe when they move to town I can have a talk with them about this sad lack of righteousness robes.

They say “dress for success,” so I wonder how the prophets would define “success” when they offered up their riffs on clothing. Baruch, of course, is not the only place where we find such sartorial advice. In the New Testament letter to the Ephesians, Paul advises putting on the “whole armor of God” with its “helmet of salvation” and “belt of truth.”

Paul seemed to be urging members of the young church to prepare for battle, and, if he was thinking in terms of “success,” he probably had in mind triumph in spiritual warfare with the powers and principalities and rulers of the present darkness, as he put it elsewhere.

This morning we dipped into a part of scripture that we don’t often touch on. The book of Baruch is part of the Roman Catholic canon, sometimes referred to as the Apocrypha or the Deuterocanonical Books. Scholars tend to place the writing of Baruch roughly a couple of hundred years before the time of Jesus, but it is written as a letter from a friend of the prophet Jeremiah from exile in Babylon to the people in Jerusalem in the early sixth century before the common era.

Taking the text on its own terms, then, Baruch is telling the people to dress for the job they want, not the job they have, or, better, dress for the life you want not the life you have.

That’s decent advice, as far as it goes, but it raises all kinds of questions. If you want to follow this advice, for example, you first must understand the life you have. That’s a question of reflection and self-examination, first, but also, to understand the life I have I must also interrogate the structures that define that life, the context, if you will.

Luke’s gospel underscored this necessity. That is to say, Luke frequently – especially in the opening chapters – takes the time to give us specific markers so we will understand the context. “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius,” our text this morning begins. Luke is telling us something about the structures that define the life he is about to tell us all about.

That work is essential to deep self understanding. What family dynamics define the contours of the life I have? What economic structures frame it? Am I rich? Am I poor? What differences do such realities make for me? What political realities form the social context for my life? What about age, health, ability, gender, race?

It turns out that understanding the life I have takes a lot of work. Heck, it might take me a whole lifetime to figure out this one life!

What about imagining a future otherwise? That is to say, if I want to follow Baruch’s advice and dress for the life I want, then I am further into the work of discernment. What does this other life look like? How am I shaped and formed for it by not only all of those things I’ve examined about the life I have, but also, how am I shaped and formed for this other life by the longings of my heart – that is to say, way too quickly, what is God calling me into?

Luke quotes Isaiah and echoes Baruch, as well, in proclaiming, “prepare the way of Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill made low. The crooked places will be made straight, the rough ones made smooth; and all flesh will see the salvation of our God.”

Luke’s call back underscores a crucial truth: these ancient texts cohere around a vision of wholeness for all people that rests on justice and leads to shalom. That’s the life that God is calling me into. That’s the future I need to dress for.

Advent promises us that such a future is coming, and this passage from Baruch reminds us that it’s time to get dressed: the prince of peace will be here soon. Amen.