One of the many reasons I'm glad to be an Episcopalian is that we take Advent seriously. Sure, there's lots to do these days and many plans to make and buying and selling...and we will decorate our trees this weekend rather than waiting until Christmas Eve, but I love Advent--the counter-cultureness of it, the silence and the darkness, the waiting and the anticipation.
And Advent, for us Episcopalians, isn't a 'little Lent'. It isn't about penitence in any way. It is a sweet season in the darkest time of the year when snow brings an eerie silence over the land.
The horrendous weather cancelled all the three Cluster services last Sunday. We missed Advent III and I mean 'really missed it'. There's an incompleteness not to have 'Rose Sunday'. I wrote a sermon I'll never preach for the Sunday that wasn't...and it made sense, roads don't get plowed as early on Sunday as they would be on a Tuesday and since these or rural churches many people live down gravel roads that have to wait to be cleared. But I missed it.
And I missed preaching this sermon. I already sent it to the Cluster email list, but I'll share it with you as well.
Advent iii, 2013
John Baptist was
out of control.
He lived in the
desert for years—eating only what he found in the wilderness. He
did not participate in society—instead he railed out dire warnings
to the sand and the rocks. He wore strange clothing he had fashioned
from animal skins and never cut his hair. Little wonder then that
when he appeared from the wilderness, proclaiming that the Kingdom
was near, people were both frightened of him and yet almost
irresistibly drawn to his strangeness.
And one thing John
never forgot—he was a ‘prophet’ of the One Who Was To Come. His
whole life and everything he did pointed, not to himself, but to
another. He was to make the Way straight—to clear the ground for
the Coming One of God. He was not ‘the One’—he was the
forerunner, the harbinger, the messenger of One greater than him.
Little wonder then,
when John found himself in prison, soon to lose his head for daring
to condemn the royal family, that he suddenly wondered if his
life-work had been in vain. Had he made the rough ground smooth or
had he wasted his time and energy…had he failed to fulfill his only
mission in life?
John sent disciples
to Jesus. “Are you the One?” they asked him.
“Are you the One,
or are we to wait for another?”
In all the gospels,
Jesus almost never gives a direct response to a question. He either
asks a question in return or tells a story or gives what seems like a
non sequitor in reply.
His response to
John’s disciples is no different. Instead of answering their
question—instead of claiming to be The One all Israel was
awaiting—he tells them to go back and tell John what they see and
hear.
“…the blind
receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf
hear, the dead are raised and the poor have good news brought to
them…..” Jesus tells the disciples of John that what he “does”
should answer the question of who he “is”.
Jesus’ words
echoed the description of the “holy one” from the prophecy of
Isaiah. His identity is found, not in who he ‘says’ he is, but in
the works he does.
When John heard the
message he must have realized that he had fulfilled his mission. John
must have known that Jesus was “the one”.
It is really no
different for any of us. The proof is in the pudding. By the fruits
we will know who someone truly IS.
The Kingdom is
near—the Kingdom is always near, always ‘at hand’, always just
out of the sight of our periphery vision. Close, but ‘not yet’.
So the question is
not, ‘who do we say that we are?” The question that matters is
how do we live into the coming Kingdom? How do we lean into the reign
of God? How are we part of the in-breaking of Light into the
Darkness?
We are the children
of the Kingdom that was and is and is to come. We are God-bearers,
Light bringers, the vehicles of healing in this tragic and suffering
world.
It is not who we
‘say’ we are that draws the Kingdom nearer. The Kingdom is
unveiled in our midst by what we ‘do’.
Advent is not
simply a time of ‘waiting’ for the Coming One. It is a time to
‘prepare’ to welcome the Kingdom just at hand.
Make straight the
road of Kindness.
Smooth out the way
of Compassion and Generosity.
Tear down the
mountains on Indifference and Judgment and build highways of Love and
Inclusion and Acceptance.
Through the
Wilderness make a path for Forgiveness and Mercy to walk on.
We too must
‘prepare’ the way of the Lord.
We are the ones for
whom the Kingdom waits.
We are the ones God
is expecting to welcome the Child.
(Wisdom from the
Hopi Elders)
There is a River
flowing now, very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those
who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will
feel they are being torn apart and will suffer greatly.
Know this: the
River has its destination. The Elders say we must let go of the
shore, push out into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open and
our heads above the water.
At this time of
history, we are to take nothing 'personally'. Least of all,
outselves. The moment that we do that, our spritual growth and
journey comes to a halt.
The time of the
lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!
Banish the word
'struggle' from your attitude and your vocabulary.
All that we do
now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones
we've been waiting for! Amen and
amen.
Jim Bradley
padrejgb@aol.com
padrejgb@aol.com
No comments:
Post a Comment