Saugatuck Congregational Church, UCC
©Rev. Alison J. B. Patton
December 13, 2015 – Third Sunday of Advent
Scripture: Luke 3:1-17
I have been preoccupied with questions recently. You may have noticed. The sermon series that carried us through the fall included a whole collection of responses to the question: “Why go to church?” When the Rev. Martin Copenhaver joined us in late September to guest preach, the title of his second hour talk was, “What questions does the church need to ask?” I have the list he generated – all good and provocative questions, like, “What is God up to in our time?” and “What is God’s intent for us?” So perhaps it’s no surprise that I gravitated to the question, repeated no fewer than three times in this passage. “What shall we do?”
It is, after all, one of those baseline questions. “What should we do?” Show up at church for the first time, and you probably wonder, “What am I supposed to do? Do I sit down now, or stand? Cross myself or kneel? How exactly do I “pass the peace”? What’s a narthex? What’s an offering? … What am I supposed to do?”
If something sparks for you when you first visit, so that you keep coming back, then the questions gradually take on more detail and depth. “What am I supposed to do? How does this being a Christian work? Am I still allowed to tell off-color jokes or admire Carl Sagan? Should I be praying every day? And what if I don’t have time? How much money does Jesus expect me to give away? For those keeping score at home, the answers are: 1) yes; 2) absolutely; 3) yes; 4) It’s ok: prayer is portable; [and] 5) give until it feels a good.
In truth, our questions about faith rarely have easy answers. The way I see it, the life of faith is lived inside the questions. Jesus himself asked over 300 questions – and only answered a handful of them. “What are you looking for? What does the law say? Do you love me?”
So it turns out that the crowd assembled to listen to John the Baptist that day on the edge of the wilderness was in good company. They just didn’t know it yet. We read this episode during the third week of Advent. As we prepare for Christmas – hang lights, make paper snowflakes, attend holiday concerts, wrap gifts… John is preparing anyone who will listen for the arrival of One who will level the playing field: bring down the mountains, make the crooked paths straight, fill in the valleys. “Repent!” He says. “Prepare the way!” And the folks who are listening – an assortment of misfits and outsiders, despised tax collectors and mercenaries – their curiosity is piqued. They could use someone like that, for sure. Living as they do under the oppressive rule of the Roman Empire; abused by the state and rejected by those around them… They are accustomed to being insulted. Maybe that’s why they stick around to listen, even after John starts his sermon with the less-than-endearing salutation: “You brood of vipers!” Or, in the words of a more contemporary translation, “You bunch of snakes!”
Maybe it’s why they ask, “What shall we do?” Because they want to be a part of this new life to come… “Tell us what’s required; break it down.”
And John does. To each of the groups present, he gives a customized response. As summarized by the Rev. David Lose:
“To the poor crowds [he said]: share even what you have. To the tax collectors: take only what is fair. To the mercenaries: don’t extort. Reduced to everyday language, these are the rules of the playground: share, be fair, don’t bully.”[1]
Share. Be fair. Don’t bully. I just said that questions of faith rarely have easy answers. But John the Baptist does a remarkable job of providing a clear and accessible response to their question, “What shall we do?” “It’s not rocket science,” he says. “If you have something, share it. Don’t be greedy. Don’t abuse your power.” Simple, right? So why are we still struggling, two thousand years later? Why are there such astronomical disparities in wealth in our country? Why are weapons used during traffic stops? Why do refugees get blamed for the very violence they are trying to escape? If John the Baptist showed up in our midst, would he be any less likely to splutter and fume and call us all a brood of vipers? “You guys, don’t you get it? Jesus is coming. Repent! Repent!”
It’s true: Living lives of faith can feel ten thousand times harder than just talking about what’s required. Perhaps this is why John was surprisingly moderate in his response. He didn’t tell the crowds to give away all their possessions. He didn’t tell the soldiers to quit their jobs. Not yet. He gave each of them a context-specific starting place. Tax collectors often took more than the required tax, to pad their own pockets. Soldiers had the power to take whatever they wanted – by force. John said, don’t do it. Instead, let fairness be your guide. Put in the form of a question, John urged them to ask of their behavior, “Is it just? Is it excessive? Does it keep others from thriving?” This is applied ethics, John-the-Baptist style.
No one is expected to change everything, all at once. But we ARE expected to do something. “Do not say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’” warned John. “There’s no coasting allowed, no relying on the faithfulness of your ancestors – whether you inherited your Great Aunt Matilda’s Bible or have a Great-great-great-grandfather who built the church. Bear your own fruits. Do something – something generous, something kind; do something to reduce the suffering of others, increase justice, pursue peace.”
All of which raises the question, ‘What shall we do?’ this Advent season, as we prepare to celebrate the coming of the Christ child? Where do we start, if we want to participate in the new life that is about to erupt in our midst?
Studies show that folks come to church more often during the month of December, and that’s fantastic. If you are here for the first time in a while, or for the first time ever: Welcome! Here we try to make a little space for wonder and mystery; in the glow of the Advent wreath, we contemplate possible impossibilities: how hope might be reignited in lives weighed down by anguish; how joy might regain a foothold even in the face of loss; how peace might yet prevail, in this world too well acquainted with brutality; how an infant could embody the Maker of the Stars. We dare to imagine that God has something amazing in store. We marvel at star light, celebrate children, welcome angels – even the ones who temporarily terrify. “Don’t be afraid,” they say. So we try not to be. That’s what we do in church, during the sacred season of Advent.
But John the Baptist didn’t tell the crowds to go to church. He told them to attend to their daily lives – how they behaved at work and at home. Repentance, he said, is an everyday event, not something reserved for the Sabbath. It calls on us to be honest, generous and just in all our dealings. Where do you spend your time, Monday through Saturday? In the board room, the court room or the classroom? Designing software? Trading stocks? Selling homes? Raising children? Teaching them? Then that’s where John urges you to ask, “What shall I do?” not generically, but specifically, given your particular role in your particular context – at the negotiating table, in the design studio, on the campaign trail. “What does it mean to bear faithful fruit here? To share, be fair, and not to play the bully…?
What does it mean, when you are deciding where to invest your resources, determining employee benefits, or listening to talk that equates Muslims with terrorists? Put another way: how can we be a force for justice and peace in the workplace, in our homes, in our neighborhoods?
The answers may vary as widely as do our personal and professional endeavors. But one thing will always be true: Our whole lives are subject to the holy scrutiny of the One who comes ready to clear the threshing floor. If that makes us squirm a bit, maybe that’s ok. John’s not interested in making us feel comfortable. He IS interested in preparing us for the coming of One who will surely shake up our entire lives, and the entire world – One determined to burn away the chaff of hostility and hurt, the chaff of bias and bigotry, the chaff of zenophobia and homophobia, fear and greed… This, this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing; this, this is the Word made Flesh, who comes with a winnowing fork in his hand, a heart for the hopeless and a searing set of questions on his lips: “When I was hungry, did you feed me? When I was displaced, did you welcome me? When I needed a coat, did you give me yours?”
Better get ready, says John, because Christ will demand not just words of adoration, a prayer here and there, a sacrifice on Sundays; he will require our very lives.
John may not have mentioned it, but I still think church is a great place to hang out during Advent – or any time. Here, we can grapple with our deepest, most urgent questions together. Here we can find companions for the journey, because sometimes (maybe more often than not) we need help figuring out what to do – how to apply our faith to our lives. We need faithful co-travelers with whom to gut check our own impulses and open up new perspectives. Imagine if this was the place you could brainstorm how to resolve a conflict with a colleague, or reflect on your company’s budget priorities, contemplate ways to reduce your wear and tear on planet earth or cultivate respect for other religions.
Sisters and Brothers in Christ – we are that place, so long as we welcome Christ’s Spirit into our midst. So long as we are willing to live into the questions, knowing that we will be fundamentally changed along the way, and that this, after all, is Good News, for the one for whom we prepare will be called Mighty Savior, Wonderful Counselor, Prince of Peace.
Scripture
Luke 3:1-17 – New Revised Standard Version
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee…the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness. 3He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, 4as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. 5Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; 6and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’”
7John 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? 8Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” 10And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?”
11In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?”
13He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?”
He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”
15As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 18So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.