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Third Sunday in Advent
December 12, 2004 Sermon by Rev. Barb Hauck, Deacon

Well, we’re in the middle of the Advent season… the season when, in my mind’s eye, I expect each of our Lectors to be a very pregnant woman. This year, as I began to study the readings for today in preparation for this homily, my mind wandered to our own Sara McGinley… in mid-July. Do those of you who were around then remember how she looked? For those of you who weren’t here, her mid-section was sizable… quietly announcing her arrival far ahead of her voice. But much more noticeable than that, she was positively radiant. In the light that shone in her eyes, on her face, through her whole being, we had the opportunity to witness one of the great miracles of life by peeking through the window of Sara’s anxious anticipation to see the pure love of God. She, like so many others in this congregation who’ve added little ones to our membership rolls in recent years, took her pregnancy seriously. She ate carefully, exercised regularly, and got the rest she needed. As her pregnancy progressed, she and Aron began preparing for the baby in earnest… planning the nursery: painting it, acquiring curtains and furniture, putting together a wish list of items for others to offer in celebration of the birth of this eagerly awaited child. As the due date arrived and disappeared, she waited patiently. As uncomfortable as she was at that point, she instinctively knew that the time wouldn’t be right until God and her baby said so.

One week passed, and then a bit more… until suddenly, it was time. After a long night of very hard work and the assistance of Aron and the doctor, little Eliot entered the scene. Everything was perfect… ten fingers, ten toes, and a little button nose. All of Sara & Aron’s expectations had been met… maybe even exceeded. Their wildest dreams had come true!  Who could ask for anything more?

Now you’re probably wondering what on earth this has to do with a scruffy prophet who wore camel’s hair clothing with a leather belt, ate locusts and wild honey, and bellowed “Repent!” whenever a crowd of followers gathered. Just this: in today’s gospel, John learned that his eagerly awaited “baby,” the coming of the Messiah, did not match his expectations in any way.

When we gathered together last week, we heard John preaching to large crowds of people. He preached a baptism of repentance… and he spoke of challenging times ahead. Today he’s in prison and all of that is past. John’s popularity was threatening to King Herod, threatening to his control over the region… and, of course, publicly challenging Herod’s personal morality and family life didn’t win him any favors, either. Now I imagine that if there was one thing John had on his hands while he was in prison, it was time. And we all know what that means: that’s the perfect medium for questions to arise in heads and hearts that nag at our very souls. I would guess that as John sat in that cold, dark prison, fearful of what might well befall him in the days ahead, he began to question whether or not he’d spent his life in a worthwhile way… or had he wasted it on an impossible dream.

When John was prophesying his vision of what would happen when the long-awaited Messiah arrived, the Jews had been experiencing the terribly oppressive Roman occupation for what must have seemed like an eternity. In John’s eyes, repentance was the pathway to God. Accountability was important to him, too… thus his statement in last week’s gospel passage about the one who was to come: His winnowing fork is in his hand… he will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire. That’s an incredibly clear statement of what John expected of the Messiah… his vision of what was to come. The righteous would be gathered together and protected… and the unrighteous would pay the requisite price. Judgment.

But, when John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another? John had heard what the Messiah was doing… this one whom John had baptized in the river and about whom a voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.” This Jesus was doing far more than mere random acts of kindness… he was giving sight to the blind, mobility to the lame, hearing to the deaf, and bringing good news to the poor. Does this sound like judgment to you?

Now this is where I give him the nickname, “Doubting John”… for the deeds Jesus was performing didn’t resemble in any way the Messiah John had been expecting, and he must have had grave doubts, indeed. Questions tore at his heart: Why was he in prison, while all the unrighteous sinners were running around free? Why was his ministry curtailed while false prophets continued to be heard? I can well imagine Doubting John’s head was probably spinning as he sat, confined, waiting to hear that the one whose way he had prepared was doing what he, John, believed the Messiah was called to do! And, maybe, that’s the point.

Sometimes we humans get so caught up in our beliefs, so secure in our vision of how we think things should be that we begin to believe our vision is the vision. In a book by Christopher Catherwood, entitled Whose Side is God On? readers learn about the difference between patriotism and nationalism. And woven throughout the discourse is the subtle and constant reminder of the truly important question to ask: “are we on God’s side?” Perhaps another way of looking at the issue confronting John in prison is this: rather than asking are you the one who is to come… John might have, instead, asked, “have I been expecting the Messiah to follow God’s will or mine?”

Jesus answered, Go and tell John what you hear and see: 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. No fiery judgment there… his was a Messiahship of blessing and healing. The writer of Matthew knew his audience… knew they would hear in these words the words of today’s reading from the prophet Isaiah: Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. Throughout the centuries, these had been words of radiance and hope to an oppressed people… people clinging by their fingernails to the margins of society for dear life… people who believed in, and counted on, the limitless possibilities God provided to them.

The first century listeners who were among the first to hear this writer’s vision of the man who was called Jesus of Nazareth were in a fight for their lives. The Romans had many gods… including Caesar… and the Jews were struggling to find ways to survive with their belief in the one and only true God intact. The result was the establishment of several different sects within Judaism. There were the Essenes (those who drew apart from the world – like the Qumran community), and the Zealots who advocated overt revolution. Then there were the rabbinical Jews, including the Sadducees (those priestly families who depended upon the Empire for their continuation) and the Pharisees (members of the laity looking for a way to live meaningful Jewish lives without advocating revolt or “becoming” Roman). Added to these three groups were Matthew’s audience – the Jewish Christians. They had come to believe that the kingdom of heaven was not just some phenomenon to become a future reality… but was a reality here and now that would continue in the years ahead. This was the hope for which Matthew’s community hungered… the hope promised in their sacred writings of old. The battle to determine who would inherit the blessings of the God of the children of Israel had been joined… and Matthew’s community was losing, badly.

I wonder what those Jewish Christians would have thought if Jesus had, instead, answered John’s question like this: “Well, I don’t quite know how to tell you this, so here’s the deal, straight up. Things are pretty shaky right now… lots of folks refuse to hear the message I’m peddling. They refuse to see what’s right in front of them, and I don’t expect that to change any time soon. Hard as it is to imagine, most of them run when they see me coming… they think there’s safety in distancing themselves from me. Believe it or not, they stick their fingers in their ears when I come near!” While not recognizable as “good news,” given the circumstances, that would certainly have been a reasonable response to John’s question. But, instead, Jesus chose to trust and hope in the future rather than wallow in the difficulties of the present.

Dear hearts, in this, our moment in history… a time when many people of the world struggle to survive on the margins of society, suffering incredible fear, deprivation and oppression… and a time when many of our world’s leaders espouse the belief that their vision is the vision, I believe today’s gospel is vital to our survival. John the Baptist did what God called him to do: he fulfilled a special role as a messenger to prepare the way of the Messiah. And it certainly was not time wasted on an impossible dream! John had a vision of the Messiah that made sense, given the fearful times in which he lived. But those same fearful times may have served as “blinders,” which prevented him from seeing other possibilities God had in mind. From John’s limited perspective, judgment seemed the only means to the end.

But God had, and continues to have, a different, more radiant vision. In the person of a tiny, totally dependent baby, born in meager circumstances and at a time when hope was almost non-existent, God provided light in the midst of darkness. Years later, Matthew’s Jesus embodied that vision: by proclaiming the truly transformational power of God’s love in thought, word, and deed. With Jesus, 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. Matthew’s Jesus had a choice… accept humanity’s vision of peace through military might, victory and judgment, or God’s vision of peace through mercy, justice and love. More than 2000 years later, we find the same choice before us today.

Oh, and one last comment about Sara… when I saw her a few short hours after Eliot’s birth, tired as she was, the radiance was still there. Aron had just gone home to nap, and as I held Eliot in my arms for the first time I asked her how Dad was doing. “He’s just great,” she said… “and you know, it’s the most amazing thing to watch this big, tall, strong man turn into this gentle, tender daddy. It’s like I’m seeing him again for the very first time.” Yes, God had, and continues to have, a different, more radiant vision… and after carefully preparing herself – heart, mind and soul – Sara was given the gift of seeing with the eyes and heart of God.

Let us pray:
Holy One, as we continue this Advent season of preparation for the one who is to come… may we be given that same gift. May we, too, have a different, more radiant vision… one in which each person gives extravagantly, in gratitude for the abundant gifts God bestows upon us. May we give with all that we are and all that we have… so that those on the margins of society in this neighborhood, this city, this nation and, indeed, throughout the world no longer cling to life by their fingernails, but have adequate resources to grow and stand tall. And as we await the celebration of the coming of the Christ-child, may we see, hear, and experience the kingdom of heaven all around us – as it is and as it yet can be – as if for the very first time. AMEN.