What Pastor Jon Preached on Sunday, December 13th, 2009

3rd Sunday of Advent

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

"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. 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. Even 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.' And the crowds asked him, 'What then should we do?' In reply he said to them, 'Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.' Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, 'Teacher, what should we do?' He said to them, 'Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.' Soldiers 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.' As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John 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. His 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.' So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people."

Have you ever had an “Elizabeth” day, or week, or month or even year in your life? Elizabeth, you may remember, was the eventual mother of John the Baptist, who in her barren, old age, had not yet born any children during her marriage to Zecchariah. We don’t hear much in Luke’s Gospel about what that barren experience was like, but we do hear her once she finally does become pregnant through God’s gracious intervention: “This is what the Lord has done for me,” she says. “[God] has looked favorably on me and took away the disgrace I have endured among my people.” (Luke 1:25) Does that favor sound a long ways off? Is the barrenness of Elizabeth closer to your heart's yearning than her words of thanks and praise?

In the spiritual life, many, if not all of us, have that barren experience—not necessarily of not having a child, but that barren experience of not feeling close to God, of not being totally alive. In the Christian tradition, many have talked about this state as something called “acedia” for centuries. Monks have known and fought against acedia for hundreds of years as they’ve gone about lives filled with routine, habit and more routine and ritual prayer. Acedia received much more attention last year in a book called Acedia and Me by Kathleen Norris, an author who has written about her Christian faith in many books including a well-known memoir about living in rural South Dakota. Acedia is a condition that’s usually understood as a combination of indifference, boredom, complacency, avoidance, apathy, and a bleak outlook. Ms. Norris wrote about struggling with acedia when her husband went through the dying process with terminal cancer, when her writing projects and creativity would go through periods of drought, and even in the midst of struggling to find her way growing up as a teenager.

It’s people like Elizabeth, and like Ms. Norris, in their barren, empty meaninglessness whom I envision primarily among the throngs of crowds who came to be baptized by John the Baptist in the Jordan River. Theses were people who were seeking some kind of renewal, who realized something that had dried up in their lives. Life was routine and empty. They could care less—and they were ashamed about that. John freely baptized them, and poured waters over them in a ritual to free them from their sins. But…why, after they are baptized…does John the Baptist call the crowd of people thirsting for God a “brood of vipers”! He’s in effect calling them the offspring of snakes! Is that the kind of reviving proclamation he has to welcome, to give new life ot these desperate seekers, these people yearning for fresh faith to make them alive?! How about trying this for our own congregation’s evangelism strategy—how far do you think we’ll get calling people “broods of vipers”?!

John’s words are harsh, but yet they do speak an important truth: that it is not just the ritual of baptism itself that enlivens our lives. Rather it is God who through this ritual makes us alive, who renews our faith, who imparts forgiveness and sanctifies our lives with mercy and love. John warns these newly baptized not to rest secure in what has just happened to them—to not believe renewal will come from just going through the motions. John’s words remind us, too, in these days of awaiting Christ’s promised coming, that we cannot solely rest easy in having gone through the ritual cleansing of baptism. Once baptized does not mean we are made alive once and for all—it means God’s pouring out and renewal wakes our lives up over and over again.

John hastens to add to his “brood of vipers” comment, “Bear fruit worthy of repentence.” (Luke 3:8) John’s listeners hear this and ask, “What then should we do?” (Luke 3:10) Now we've been baptized, how does a baptized life bear fruit? What kind of life does it wake us up to? John’s answer gives a surprisingly simple, direct response that proclaims that in baptism God ushers us into a life made new for the sake of and for the care of others. It’s not about complacency, or indifference. It’s about, as John says, “whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise.” (3:11) Tax collectors, their baptized life is not to take any kick-backs, nothing extra under the table, even if no one else notices what they do. And the Roman soldiers, who risk their lives to defend the empire are to be satisfied with their simple income, even if they feel they are entitled to more. This baptism life, it’s about unselfishness, about fair and just practices, about shared responsibility and about truly caring. It may not be easy, but it is God who comes to life in caring passionately for these very same things.

God’s baptismal promises wake us up from whatever barren places we may be in—because darkness can even exist for the baptized! And God invites us not to just be alive in extending the promises of God’s grace through faith in action, but also through our hope for Jesus…who is coming, and who makes our baptism not just a baptism of water, but of his very own fire. We are not alone on this wet, grace-filled walk of faith—we can trust in that promise! God invites us into a living, vibrant relationship in the hoped-for Christ who is drawing near to us. Even when we cannot feel that presence, even if acedia tempts us or takes hold of us—Jesus is the coming light in whom we ultimately hope, the light that is there even when we cannot see or feel it. Jesus still promises to come, and come he will, to renew God's own fresh faith in us!

We are the fruit God is bringing to bear this season—fruit that is “worthy of repentence.” (3:8) Fruit, as you know, needs water and light to grow and come to life. God gives us just that, water and light. God feeds us with waters of promise in baptism, and combines that with sending the coming light of Christ, who will illumine our ways in clarity, in vibrancy…in love and in mercy. ‘Tis the season for God to do this work in us, to stir up in us with this renewing power. For it is God who can bring about fruit in this due season, fruit that comes from turning away from indifference, from acedia…and turning away from even the most barren of places, so God may shower us with wet promises that revive us to care for the other, and so God may bring to us the illuminating one, Jesus, who is greater than us, who will reveal God to us, and who will show us the way. Amen.