Advent 3B; Isa 61:1-4, 8-11; John 1:6-8, 19-28 St.
Paul’s 12/17/2017
Jim Melnyk: “Think Again”
Sometimes we get hold of an
idea that we just can’t seem to let go of – no matter what happens around us –
no matter how life and community are shaped.
We cannot let go of the expectations and hopes which hold us captive at
least as much as we hold them sacred.
Just watch a couple of folks argue politics, religion, or even sports! Each of us has experienced the grip of
expectations which can overwhelm, control, and sometimes even paralyze us when
life and faith prove different from each other.
Today’s gospel lesson is an
example of expectations gone awry.
Notice how the passage rests within the opening words of John’s
gospel. There, in the midst of the beautifully
poetic hymn to the Logos – the hymn to the Word Made Flesh – is a disclaimer
about John the Baptist. “In the
beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…. What
has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people”
(1:1-4). The Word was God – but John was not the Word. The word
was the light of the world – but John
was not the light. The Word became flesh and lived among us – but people, we’re not talking about John. And whoever believes on this Word Made Flesh
– the One who comes after John – has
been given power to become children of God.
The placing of this record about
John is vital because it’s written some sixty or seventy years after the crucifixion
and resurrection of Jesus. Sixty or
seventy years after the resurrection there are still folks holding on to the
belief that John the Baptist was the Messiah.
It’s a classic case of the Messenger getting confused with the
Message. And this all happens in spite
of John’s emphatic words of denial, and his faithfulness in pointing the way
toward Jesus as the Christ. And even
though John wasn’t always quite sure that he called it right concerning Jesus –
you may recall he later sends his disciples to ask Jesus if he is the One for
whom they have waited – he always made it clear that he was not the Messiah –
that he was not the Christ of God.
But people couldn’t let go of
John with all his charismatic fire and brimstone preaching. Like a street preacher today,
he was probably mesmerizing for many. He
didn’t back down from challenging religious leaders or Roman soldiers. John didn’t have any trouble calling folks
things like a “brood of vipers” – or trouble comparing God’s judgment and wrath
toward humanity like taking an ax to a tree and throwing it in a fire (Mt. 3:7,
10). They couldn’t let go of their
vision of John as a potential sword-swinging, gate-crashing, empire-busting
Messiah who would come in and sweep Rome into the sea and restore the throne of
David in Jerusalem. But John wasn’t the
one – wasn’t the Word Made Flesh – wasn’t the Messiah.
What did they get
instead? Jesus – an itinerate preacher
who, they thought, couldn’t even see – or at least fully understand – the
gallows standing right before his eyes.
Often challenging and thought provoking, but no fire and brimstone
here. No broods of vipers. No axes to the trees.
Rather, Jesus preached repentance
and Good News that embraced the grace and love of God. Jesus is the One who
stops on a crowded street to heal a woman weakened by years of unstoppable
bleeding. Those wanting to hold on to
John as their answer from God hear stories about a person who takes the time to
straighten a woman’s crooked back with the touch of a hand. Someone who asks the blind beggar Bartimaeus,
“What do you want me to do for you?” instead of ignoring him or blaming his
blindness on sin. They experience
someone who takes the time to sit by a well in Samaria of all places and talk
theology with a woman whose life is in chaos.
Instead of the fiery Baptist
they are challenged with someone who dares to touch and heal lepers – someone
who cares for Jew and Gentile alike – even calling a tax collector to be one of
his disciples. Not a swash-buckling
savior, but rather the very Incarnation of God who comes among God’s people as
a servant for the whole world.
The community of God Jesus
calls into being has a servant on the throne; One who washes his disciples’
feet. The community of God Jesus calls
into being has a servant on the throne; One who says, “You are not my slaves,
but rather you are my friends” – a servant who gives his body to all as
heavenly food.
The followers of John didn’t
find the Messiah they expected to find, but many were able to let go of their
expectations and grasp the new reality of God’s advent as a
Servant-Savior. It’s a difficult shift
to make – from crown and throne to thorns and cross. It’s a hard shift for many in the
twenty-first century as well. The
Servant Song or Mary’s Magnificat don’t play well in a culture that demands
success, control and status. It’s a hard
shift to make when the chaos of our lives seems to demand sharp judgments of
right or wrong, in or out, loved or not loved – when so many Christians around
us still long for return of Jesus in the twenty-first century equivalence of a
fiery war chariot. And for some modern-day
folks the shift never comes – they live out their lives waiting for the kind of
Messiah who will never come – who can never come.
Sometimes, like
the followers of John, we can get hold of an idea that we just cannot seem to
let go. And yet, Advent can be for us a
time of letting go – a time of letting go of unhealthy hopes and dreams that
control and paralyze us – or unhealthy hopes and dreams that comfort us and
call judgment down on others. Advent can be for us a time to hear the words of
the prophet Isaiah in a new way: “The spirit of the
Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good
news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the
captives, and release to the prisoners…to comfort all who mourn…to give them a
garland instead of ashes, the oil of
gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit” (61:1-3
). Advent is a time when we can hear
anew the words of the Psalmist: “The Lord has done great things for us, and we
are glad indeed…. Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy” (126:
4, 6).
The season of
Advent challenges us to seek the hopes and dreams that free us to be the people
of God we are called to be – to live into the image of God stamped on our souls
and the seal of God’s Holy Spirit marked on our brows – making a difference for
good in this world. And the season of
Advent challenges us to see that image – to recognize that seal – on everyone –
even those with whom we struggle to love or even accept.
Advent holds for
us a holy promise. Advent is a time of
hope and expectation that invites the world into new relationships with each
other and with the Word Made Flesh – Jesus Christ. In Advent the ever-unfolding grace and love
of God comes to us and meets us in the midst of our chaotic lives, and invites
us to be one with our Creator and one with each other. In Advent God reminds us that we’re not
called to be swash-buckling, gate-crashing, world-saving Christians.
Rather, we are
called to be the on-going incarnation of the One we call Christ. We are called to be the on-going incarnation
of the One who calls himself the servant of all – the One who by right could have
claimed all worldly power, but rather became a ransom for all.
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