Turn

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 22, 2017

3 Epiphany A

In the mountains, in the woods, where my grandparents lived, the nights were lit only by the stars.  There were no surrounding houses, no parking lots, not even any traffic to light up the night.  In the darkness of the night, we could not see our hands in front of our faces.  But our grandfather, being a great collector of gadgets, had a vast array of flashlights.  Some were tiny and had intense beams the gave off a brilliant light on a very small space.  Others were larger and managed to spread less light over more space.  Either way, the flashlights we took on our night time walks were really only good for one thing.  They lit up the path directly in front of our feet, and not much else.  While we could see where to take the next step; we could not see the creek 100 yards ahead.  The flashlights gave us exactly what we needed and nothing more.  They gave us the power to go out into the dark of the night, but not the power to conquer the dark.

          This morning we hear the prophet Isaiah say “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness, on them light has shined.”  The gospel writer quotes this very passage and understands Jesus to be the fulfillment of what the prophet Isaiah had promised.  Later in the book of Isaiah, we hear the words “Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” In John’s gospel, Jesus says “I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”  These are all passages of great hope and promise-hope and promise that the darkness of oppression, whether physical or political or spiritual-will be lifted, illuminating the darkness of night and making the whole day shine with the radiance of God’s glory.

          Since Matthew proclaims through the words of Isaiah that Jesus is the light of the world, the glory of God, I find it a little disconcerting that the next words out of Jesus’ mouth are “Repent. For the kingdom of heaven has come near.”  Repent?  What about rejoice and be glad for the kingdom of heaven has come near?  Granted, Jesus does not call us, or anyone else, a brood of vipers like John the Baptist did.  But what does it mean about the light of the world if the first word of his ministry is “repent!”

          The word “repent” means to turn, or to redirect one’s life.  In both the Hebrew scriptures and the New Testament, the call to “repent” is the call to reorient the way we live, and then act on it; to be reconciled with God, then live like it.  In the reading from 1 Corinthians, Paul does not actually use the word repent, but he is certainly calling the Christians there to turn away from their squabbling and reorient their lives so that they live in unity.  This morning, we hear Jesus issue an invitation-an invitation to change directions and be part of the kingdom of heaven as it draws near.

          When Jesus calls Simon Peter and Andrew, his brother, they have to literally change directions and follow Jesus.  They turn from their current direction, casting nets in the sea, and follow Jesus when he calls.  Likewise, when Jesus calls James and John, they have to turn from mending nets, to follow Jesus.  These four radically reorient their lives to follow Jesus, then they watch as Jesus teaches in the synagogues, proclaims the good news of the kingdom, and cures every disease and sickness among the people. 

          When the four fishermen turned from what they were doing, casting and mending nets, and followed Jesus, all they could see was Jesus.  They did not have a strategic plan, they had not thought carefully about how they would finance this new endeavor or how their families would survive without them.  On the one hand, that makes following Jesus seem downright reckless and irresponsible, and I am all for being careful and responsible.  On the other hand, their actions are a reminder that we are called to follow Jesus first, and our strategic plans, sound financial planning, or our carefully crafted plans for our families need to be part of how we follow Jesus.  When the strategic plan falls apart, or the economy goes bust, or our carefully made plans come completely unglued perhaps for a reason totally out of our control, we are stuck in the dark if those things are what we have followed.  We have nothing and no one to follow, no light to guide us, and we are powerless before the dark.

And so, Jesus says “Turn and follow me.”  Jesus calls us, not to abandon our responsibilities, but to turn from following them and follow him.  Jesus is the light that shines in the darkness so that we can see Jesus and follow him, not so that we can conquer the darkness and find our own way.  The gospel of John begins with the words “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  All things came into being through him...What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”  The promise of the gospel is that no darkness can extinguish the light of Jesus so we will never have to find our way through the darkness alone.

Amen.

God's Dream

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 15, 2017

Annual Meeting & Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

          One year ago this weekend, the weekend of your annual meeting and the country’s celebration of the life of Dr. King, Don and I made our first trip to Hudson to spend time with your search committee.  I have to admit that I was a bit surprised to realize that a whole year has passed since that weekend.  We had read your profile and I had met the search committee via a Skype interview.   We were impressed with the dedication of this parish, your love and care for each other, and the great welcoming atmosphere you foster here.  And you know the rest of the story.  Here we are, a year later on Annual Meeting Sunday, with the Bishop coming next Saturday to celebrate our ministry at Christ Church.

          There have been some delightful surprises along the way.  First, Christ Church is a larger parish with even more gifts for ministry than the profile described.  We don’t all make it to church every Sunday, which gives us a smaller feel than is accurate.  Secondly, as I have said before, our buildings are very extremely used with a variety of groups in and out on a regular basis.  Some days, the buildings practically shake with activity.  Thirdly, when there is a need, people step up and take ownership of whatever the challenge might be.  One of the reasons I came to Christ Church is because you had not waited for the arrival of a rector to be about the work of ministry here.  Your time in the wilderness has served you well in many ways.

          This weekend, our country celebrates the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and our lectionary provides specific readings from scripture for this celebration.   The reading from Genesis, in which Joseph’s brothers mock him as a dreamer, deliberately reminds us of Dr. King’s “I have a dream” speech.  Dr. King quoted the prophet Isaiah when he said “I have a dream that one day every valley will be exalted, and every hill and mountain made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord will be revealed and all flesh shall see it together.”  Dr. King’s dream was not without clear reference to his day, however.  This most quoted part of his speech follows a litany of dreams that are quite specific and spell out the meaning of the words “All men are created equal.”  His dream was that someday the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners would be able to sit down together.  That a day would come when his own four children would be judged by the strength of their character not the color of their skin.  That someday little black boys and girls would play hand in hand with little white boys and girls.  Dr. King had no fear in naming names and identifying places where injustice and oppression were considered acceptable.

           Dreams can be cheap.  Working to make those dreams a reality can be costly, as Dr. King’s life shows.  The reading from Ephesians reminds us of what is required for that work.  The whole armor of God is required for the struggle against the powers of darkness.  The description of the armor of God includes a belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes that will make us ready to proclaim the gospel of peace, the shield of faith.  While all of this equipment is spiritual, the physical way the equipment is described reminds us that our whole selves are required for the work of fighting injustice.  Thinking and praying about injustice is required but is not enough.  Talking about injustice and raising awareness is required, but not enough.  Thoughtful, prayerful action is also required.

          And yet, even with all the talk about armor in the reading from Ephesians, Jesus is clear, as was Dr. King, that the work of liberation from oppression is peaceful work.  Love your enemies.  Do good to those who hate you.  Pray for those who abuse you.  If the goal is to achieve the peaceful kingdom Isaiah describes, where the lion and lamb lie down together and swords can be turned into plowshares, if the goal is for children of all colors to be able to play together, that will not be achieved through violence.  One of my favorite Dr. King quotes is this: “(The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you may murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate.

So it goes.) Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness:

only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”

          During the season of Advent, when we wait for the coming of Jesus, we hear God’s “I have a dream speech.”  “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain; for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.” We celebrate the work and sacrifice of Dr. King because his dream was God’s dream.  Here in Hudson, Ohio, in Summit County, where is Christ Church called to use our prayers, our conversation and our action to make God’s dream a more present reality?  Where are we called to work together to liberate people who are oppressed by the bondage of racism, or poverty, or discrimination because of one’s sexual orientation?  God’s dream through out scripture is liberation from oppression, from the physical liberation of the Hebrew people from slavery in Egypt, to the liberation from the oppression of sickness and disease in the gospels, to the liberation from sin and death through the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus.  How are we called to leverage the vast talent of this congregation, our physical resources, and our willingness to tackle a challenge in order to be part of God’s liberating work? As we celebrate our life together on the Annual Meeting Sunday, the question is not “What great things did we do last year?” The question is “What great things will we do this year to make God’s dream a more present reality?”

                                                                   Amen.

Debris

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 8, 2017

The Baptism of Jesus

          Don and I have a cottage on the Ohio River in the little village of Ripley.  The cottage is on a hill overlooking the water and the river is endlessly fascinating.  Barges of varying lengths float by, sometimes empty, sometimes carrying large loads of coal.  Sometimes the water is clear and calm, and other times, particularly after a significant rainfall or the melting of a lot of snow, the water is high and turbulent.  On those occasions, the water picks up all kinds of debris along the way to Cincinnati, sometimes carrying whole trees including the roots, mats of plant debris and human trash, as well as other unidentifiable objects.  At times like that, the river seems angry, tormented even, cold and dangerous.

          When I think of the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River, I think of a much more tranquil scene.  In my imagination, the water is clear and smooth, just the right temperature, with no sign of floating debris. Each year, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus on the Sunday after Epiphany, which was this past Friday, moving rapidly from Jesus as an 8 day old baby last Sunday to Jesus as a grown man this Sunday.  And we think our children grow up quickly! 

          When Jesus went to the Jordan to be baptized by John, the baptism John offered was for the repentance of sins.  Crowds of people were flocking to the wilderness so they could confess their sins and be baptized.  We understand that in baptism we are cleansed from sin and born again.  But why would Jesus, who we understand to be sinless, need to confess his sins and be baptized.  How would that even be possible for someone who was without sin?

          John the Baptist has the same question.  John says “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”  Jesus’ response is "Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Jesus’ baptism is a matter of fulfilling all righteousness. On the one hand, in the Hebrew scriptures, righteousness is a characteristic of God and the word is used to describe God’s faithfulness to the covenant with God’s people. On the other hand, with regards to humans, in the Hebrew scriptures, to be righteous is to do as God commands, which is to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. By offering himself for baptism, Jesus is committing himself to the life God calls him to lead, whatever that may entail. I imagine Jesus’ motive here is not a lot different that all the other folks in line, who are baptized because they want to live a more righteous life.

          So, Jesus goes down into the waters of baptism and comes back up, just like the thousands of other people before him. But when he comes out of the water, the heavens are opened, the Spirit of God descends on him like a dove, and a voice from heaven says "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased." Jesus may have gone into the water like everyone else, but only for Jesus do the heavens open and does the voice of God claim him as God’s own.

After a baptism so glorious, a grand celebration would be in order. Jesus has just been claimed as God’s own, God’s beloved. Surely food and drink, dancing or at least a cake should follow. But immediately after Jesus is baptized, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan. We will hear that story a few weeks from now on the first Sunday of Lent.  Any thought we might have that being God’s beloved means the conferral of special protection and privilege comes to a grinding halt. Jesus will spend the next 40 days and 40 nights without food or shelter and alone in the wilderness with the devil.

Our reading from Isaiah this morning is often referred to as the First Servant Song.  Isaiah describes a servant who will bring justice to the nations, not by force or violence, but by faith.  Hebrew scholars disagree as to whether this passage refers to a person, who Christians often understand to be Jesus, or Israel as God’s chosen people.  But certainly by pairing this servant song with the baptism of Jesus, the creators of the lectionary want us to think of Jesus when we hear the words of Isaiah this morning.  The work described in this passage from Isaiah-the work of bringing about justice, of opening eyes that are blind, of freeing people from the variety of prisons in which they find themselves-is the work Jesus will do when he emerges from the wilderness.  This work is the work of righteousness-to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God. 

Back to those choppy waters on the Ohio River. While the Holy Spirit does not drive most of us out into the literal wilderness after our baptism, baptism does send us out into the world to do the work God gives us to do.  Jesus’ baptism reminds us that we, too, we have been claimed by God in our own baptisms and that God will never abandon us.  But just as Jesus’ baptism was not a promise of health, happiness, popularity or success, neither is ours.  Jesus’ baptism also reminds us that we, too, are sent us out into the world to be a light to the nations, in the words of Isaiah, and engage the wilderness of poverty, disease, and injustice as God’s own beloved children.  And when that work is hard, and looks and feels less like the calm, clean water of baptism and more like the choppy, cold waters of the Ohio River, dangerous and full of debris, the story of Jesus’ baptism reminds us that we, too, have been claimed by God as God’s own and God will always be faithful.      

     

                                 Amen.

Holy Name

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

January 1, 2017

Holy Name

          In my office, I have a photograph that I call the “Three Charlottes.”  The elderly woman in the photo is my great-grandmother, whose given name was Charlotte but who was called “Lottie.”  She died at the age of 91 when I was in 7^th grade, so I had the good fortune of knowing her for a large portion of my youth.  She was a dignified but stern looking woman, born in 1881, whose favorite activity in her golden years was to go shopping one day and return everything the next.  The woman in the middle of the photo is Lottie’s granddaughter, Charlotte.  Charlotte is my first cousin once removed and my godmother.  We saw her this past Thanksgiving, told family stories, looked at old photos, and had a lovely time remembering family weddings and other events.  Even though we rarely see each other-the last time was 2008-we have a shared family story that binds us together despite the passage of time.  The third Charlotte in the photo is myself.  I am about two years old in the picture and I obviously just want the photography session to end.   I was oblivious to the fact that 5 decades later I would treasure this photo that ties me to a story beyond myself. 

          Today is the Feast of Holy Name.  Holy Name is always January 1, 8 days after Christmas because, as we are told in the gospel reading, 8 days after Jesus’ birth, he was named Jesus as the angel had instructed.  Holy Name, however, does not always fall on a Sunday, which is why many of us have never heard of this particular feast day.

          In a way similar to the way my name connects me with a story that precedes me by at least two generations, we are reminded this morning that Jesus’ name connects him to the larger story of God’s work in the world.  The shepherds have left Mary and Joseph and returned home.  Eight days later, we are told, “it was time to circumcise the child; and he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel before he was conceived in the womb.” We are reminded that the angel appeared to Mary to tell her of the child that would be conceived in her womb.  The angel said ‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’

          The name Jesus is the Hebrew name Joshua, which means “Yahweh is salvation.”  “Yahweh” is the Hebrew name for God, so Jesus’ name itself connects Jesus with the larger story of God’s people.  The angel also connects Jesus with the larger story when Mary is told that Jesus will receive the throne of his ancestor David. David was the great king of Israel, when Israel was a united monarchy and a military power.  David’s son Solomon managed to keep the monarchy united for another generation, but when Solomon died, the kingdom divided into two kingdoms: Israel in the north and Judah in the south.  The power and prestige of both declined rapidly as they became subject to foreign powers and occupation.  Kings put their trust in alliances with foreign powers and their gods rather than trust the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob for their safety and security.  Those alliances might have brought temporary security, but eventually both Israel and Judah fell to foreign powers.    Even though Judah would eventually  be rebuilt, the country was a shadow of its former self. 

Hundreds of years later, there was a great longing for the glory days of David when Israel was independent and powerful.  But they also longed for the relationship with God they had once known, when they knew who they were as God’s chosen people, and the people of the promised land.  The people longed for the messiah described in the words of the Christmas Eve reading from Isaiah “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom.  He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore.”

          Jesus’ very name connects him with that story and the longing for a deeper relationship with God.  Yahweh is salvation.  The story of God’s people is the story of our constant need to be reminded that Yahweh is salvation, not any earthly power, possession, or accomplishment.  Over and over again, we learn from Scripture and from our own lives, that when we put our trust in anything other than Yahweh, we are disappointed.  Today, on the Feast of Holy Name, we are reminded that the power of God, in which we put our trust, is different from the world’s power.  Today, the power of God is on display in an 8 day old baby, whose very name connects us to a story that spans the generations and reminds us that God, and God alone, is salvation.

                                                                   Amen.

Kindergarten

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 24, 2016

Christmas Eve

          In 1986, Robert Fulghum wrote the book “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.”  The book is actually a series of essays on all kinds of topics, but the first essay lists the life lessons learned in Kindergarten.  The list includes learnings like “Share everything.” “Play fair.” “Don’t hit people.” “Clean up your own mess,” which is all in caps!  And my personal favorite: “Take a nap every afternoon.”  Fulghum’s premise, with which I happen to agree, is that if we all lived by the lessons we learned in kindergarten, the world would be a better place.

          A friend of mine has a sweatshirt that says “All I need to know about following Jesus, I learned from Christmas.”  Obviously, this is a take off on Fulghum’s book, but the slogan on the shirt got me thinking.  Is it accurate to say that all we need to know about following Jesus we learn in the story we hear tonight?  What do we learn about Jesus in the story of a simple birth to humble parents that lights up the night sky with angels and song?

          The story begins with Mary and Joseph traveling to Bethlehem to be counted for the census.  They have been summoned by Emperor Augustus for the first century equivalent of April 15^th.  They have come to Bethlehem from Nazareth to be registered in order to be taxed.  Governments don’t count people unless they are needing to count money as well.  When the young couple finally arrived in Bethlehem, I imagine there were long, dirty lines at the census office, the first century version of paperwork to fill out, too many customers and too few people working at the desk, and more weary, grumpy travelers than the local inns could accommodate.  And of course, that’s when Jesus decides to be born and the only bed available is a feeding trough. 

          Then, an angel shows up and scares the living daylights out of some shepherds.  The angel says “Do not be afraid; for see-I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord.  This will be a sign for you; you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”  The shepherds, who were out tending their flocks, leave the sheep to their own devices, pick up and go with haste to find Mary and Joseph and the child.      There is no star to guide them in this story-that is in Matthew’s account of Jesus’ birth.  All they knew was to look for a child in Bethlehem, wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger. That sounds like looking for a needle in a haystack to me.  But apparently the angel’s directions worked.

Lastly, once they found Mary, Joseph, and Jesus, the shepherds made known all that had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them.  The story implies that the shepherds told more people than just Mary and Joseph.  “All who heard it” implies that anyone within earshot heard.  But Mary and Joseph were certainly among those who were amazed at the shepherd’s words, and Mary had been told from the beginning that the child she carried was no ordinary child.  Remember the words of the angel: “‘Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favour with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob for ever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.’”  So, nothing the shepherds told Mary should surprise her.  Perhaps Mary and Joseph wondered how the shepherds, of all people, knew about their child. 

          So, what have we learned about following Jesus from the Christmas story?  First, we learned that the arrival of Jesus is not necessarily convenient.  Jesus often arrives in the midst of the chaos of our lives.  Jesus doesn’t wait until everyone is perfectly healthy, an exquisite dinner has been prepared, the gifts are beautifully wrapped, and the tree is expertly trimmed.  That is good news, for if Jesus could only be born in our midst when everything is perfect, and you are like me, then Jesus would never arrive.  The good news is that Jesus arrives in our lives, like he arrived in Mary and Joseph’s lives, when he is ready not when we are.  Following Jesus means making room for him whether he fits into our plan or not.

          Secondly, we hear the promise of the angel to the shepherds that they will find the child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.  A feeding trough is an unlikely place to find the messiah, the Lord.  The good news is that we will find the child if we look.  The challenge is that we are to look in unlikely places.  We find Jesus in the manger tonight, with all the glory of our Christmas worship, so that we can practice finding Jesus in the world around us.

          Lastly, once the shepherds have found Jesus, they tell everyone around them.  We find and experience Jesus here tonight, which leads us to find and experience Jesus in all sorts of unexpected places, which fills us with joy that cannot be contained within ourselves.   Good news is meant to be shared.  Following Jesus means expressing our joy and sharing our story.  But just as Mary listened to the shepherds, following Jesus also means being willing to learn about Jesus from unexpected people. 

          Do we learn all we need to know about following Jesus from the Christmas story?  While there is more to the story of Jesus than simply his birth, I believe that if we make room for Jesus even when it’s not convenient, look for Jesus in unexpected places and are willing to learn about Jesus from unexpected people, and share our joy with the world, we will live the Christmas story and that story will change the world.

                                                          Amen.

Outlet Malls

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 11, 2016

3 Advent A

          My friend Bonnie is what I would call a power shopper.  She loves to shop and finding a great deal is competitive sport for her.  When the new outlet mall opened in Columbus, Bonnie was ecstatic.  She might have been one of the first 100 people to arrive on opening day.   Because of Bonnie’s extreme shopping skills, she has extensive knowledge about available products to decorate a home, repair anything, and fill a closet.  The possibilities are endless.  I admire that because I don’t have those skills.  When I go shopping, I like to know exactly where I am going, what I am looking for, and what I will spend.  The possibilities end with what is on the list I made before I left home.  Consequently, I have little knowledge about the options for home décor, home repair, or the vast options for filling a closet.   The way I figure it, when I die, if I wind up in the place that is not heaven, that place will be an outlet Mall.

          John the Baptist approaches looking for the Messiah about the way that I shop.  He knows exactly what he is looking for.  Last week, we heard him describe the one who is to come.  Last week, John said “I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”  This week, we hear that John’s prophetic activity has landed him in prison.  Later in Matthew’s gospel, we learn that John the Baptist is in prison because John the Baptist told Herod that Herod should not be sleeping with Herod’s brother’s wife.  No one ever won a popularity contest being a prophet!  This morning, John’s disciples have told the prophet about Jesus’ ministry.  So far in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus has called disciples, preached the Sermon on the Mount, made it clear that he has not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it, given the Lord’s prayer, and healed many people.  John has not heard one word about wheat and chaff, judgement for the Pharisees and Sadducees, broods of vipers or unquenchable fire.  John expected a little more hell fire and damnation out of Jesus, and there has been nary a lightning bolt.  John will soon have given his life to prepare the way for the One who is coming.  His question is urgent: Is Jesus really the one, or are we to wait for another?

            Jesus’ response is to quote from the very passage we heard from Isaiah this morning.  “Go and tell John what you 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.”  My guess is that John, like most of us, wanted a nice clear answer: “Yes, I am the one who is to come,” or “No, we must wait for another.”  Instead, as is often the case, Jesus’ answer to an either/or question is “absolutely.”  Yes, Jesus is ushering in the time spoken of by the prophet Isaiah, when all brokenness will be made whole.  And yes, we must wait, and wait patiently, according to the reading from James, for that time when all injustice comes to an end and the whole creation is restored.  Jesus tells John, and us, to look so we can see and hear what is going on around us.  More is going on than we might notice, and what is going on points us to what is to come.  “Go and tell John what you 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 preached to them.”  John had a very clear idea of what the Messiah would do, and that very clear idea almost caused him to miss what the Messiah was actually doing.  We all probably have our own idea of what we are looking for in the Messiah.  We want a Messiah who will heal our loved one, end poverty, restore relationships, bring peace on earth. When Jesus doesn’t live up to our expectations, we wonder “Are you the one, or shall we wait for another?”  When we are consumed by our own version of what we are looking for in the Messiah, we may miss the Messiah who is working among us. 

            The world around us is full of people who have the same doubts about Jesus that John the Baptist has this morning.  But for many of them, the question is not even “Are you the one who is to come or shall we wait for another?”  Their question is “What good is Jesus if there is still all this suffering in the world?  What good is Jesus when Jesus’ people are full of judgment, or fight among themselves so much?”  For many people, followers of Jesus sound more like John the Baptist last week, warning people to flee the wrath to come.  If that’s the Messiah they are to look for, they will look for something else.  Advent calls us to look for the places that point to the coming of Jesus, the sorts of places Isaiah describes where new life is emerging, healing is happening, and people live in peace together, and hold those up for the world to see.  Advent calls us to open our eyes to places beyond our wildest imagination where the Christ Child is being born in our midst.  Advent calls us to be the answer to John the Baptist’s question for those around us who ask. Madeleine L’Engle, an Episcopal author who died about 9 years ago, once said “We draw people to Christ not by loudly discrediting what they believe, by telling them how wrong they are and how right we are, but by showing them a light that is so lovely that they want with all their hearts to know the source of it.”   Advent calls us to show that light.

                                                                                                            Amen.

           

Orange Barrels

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 4, 2016

2 Advent A

          Don and I have lived in a number of different places.  We have lived in the cities of Nashville, Tennessee; Lexington, Kentucky; and Springfield, Ohio.  We have lived in the rural mountains of western North Carolina.  We have lived in the small city of Piqua, Ohio and the suburb of Evanston, Illinois.  But no place we have lived takes their orange barrels as seriously as Northeast Ohio!  In the few months we have lived here, we have navigated the ever moving orange barrels of downtown Hudson, Twinsburg, and Interstate 271.  Every time I thought I had the traffic pattern down and knew which lane to be in, the barrels moved.  Sometimes they moved several times in a single day.  Dodging orange barrels seems to be competitive sport here.  But then, all of a sudden, one day they were gone, at least the ones downtown and in Twinsburg.  And within a few days, I found that I really wasn’t thinking about them anymore.  The orange barrels came, were a great inconvenience for a while, then they were gone and forgotten by most of us, other than those merchants whose livelihoods were so affected.

          There is a parallel between those orange barrels and John the Baptist.  Every Advent, when we try to beat a path to the manger and the baby Jesus, we are detoured though John the Baptist.  We, or at least I, want to hear tidings of comfort and joy.  Instead, we are called a brood of vipers and told to repent by a man in the wilderness with questionable taste in both food and clothing.  One option is to treat John the Baptist like those orange barrels, putting up with this inconvenience for a brief time, and then forgetting about him as soon as possible.  But since we encounter John the Baptist each and every year on the way to the manger, perhaps the more faithful option is to hear him out.  Hearing him out, however, feels like subjecting ourselves to a good scolding.  How can there be any good news in a diatribe that begins with “You brood of vipers?”

          Actually, I sort of like John the Baptist.  If we listen carefully, the prophet does speak good news at the same time that he speaks the truth about our lives as human beings. Listen to what the prophet says.  First, John the Baptist says "Repent. For the Kingdom of Heaven has come near." We get caught up in the annoying, but necessary, call to repent and miss the reason for that repentance. We are called to repent, not as an end in itself or so that the Kingdom of Heaven will arrive.  We are called to repent because the Kingdom of Heaven has already come near. That is good news, and the call to repent is the call to turn from those things that keep us from knowing the Kingdom of Heaven in our midst. What prevents us from experiencing God in our midst? Resentment? Fear? Worry? Self-absorption? The need to be in control? Repent, John the Baptist says, and experience the Kingdom of Heaven in our midst.

          Secondly, no one likes to be called a brood of vipers. If John the Baptist came from a good, Southern family, he would know at least 6 ways to say the exact same thing in a less offensive manner. But John does have our attention now. And if we listen, we hear John tell the vipers to bear fruit worthy of repentance. So, apparently, even vipers can repent and bear fruit worthy of that repentance. If vipers can do that, I imagine you and I can do that also. The Kingdom of Heaven is out of no one’s reach.  That is good news.

          Thirdly, John is clear that he does not have the final word. John says "one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire." Next week, we will hear John’s perplexity about Jesus when John asks from prison "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we wait for another." Jesus isn’t quite who John thought he would be. Jesus was less about fire and brimstone, and more about giving sight to the blind, raising the dead, and healing the lame. The Kingdom turns out to be bit more like Isaiah’s description this morning, where “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them.”  But John has the basic message right-the kingdom of heaven has come near and everyone has the opportunity to repent and draw near to that Kingdom.

          Isaiah gives us a vision this morning of what the Kingdom of Heaven looks like.  In the Kingdom that Isaiah describes, all of creation can trust each other, because each member of creation is trust worthy.  No one is out to hurt or destroy anyone or anything.  In that vision, the earth is a peaceful place where all creatures, including humans, can live together in harmony.  What John the Baptist tells us is that awaiting the one who is to come, the one who will bring the coming Kingdom closer, is not a passive activity.  John stops us on the way to the manger, not to burn time until Jesus comes, but to make us pause and think about how we will prepare.   What will make us ready for Jesus’ arrival?  The reading from the letter to the Romans tells us with words that echo the passage from Isaiah.  Live in harmony with each other.  Welcome one another as Christ welcomed us.  Be people of hope.  Know the scriptures.   John the Baptist turns out to be the orange barrel that makes us stop on the way to the manger so we can prepare for the birth of the Christ Child by removing our own obstacles to finding Him.

                                                                   Amen.