Coming for What?
a sermon by Rev. Rebecca Segers
Isaiah 11:1-10
Matthew 3:1-12
What do you think about when someone mentions Christmas? Do you think of lights and candles and crisp winter nights? Do you think of snow and sleigh bells and scenes from Currier and Ives? Do you think of the music and caroling and hot chocolate and rosy faces? Do you think of family spread around the Christmas tree on Christmas morn passing out presents and hearing the oohs and aahs of joy from little ones? Or is it the baby Jesus – all small and pink and cuddly, smelling of baby powder and….well, baby – lying in the manger? Jesus, the perfect baby, the one who hears the cattle lowing and sheep bleating, who feels the scratchy hay against his cheek and the cool dampness of an Israelite winter, but no matter what, “no crying he makes?” Is that what comes to mind when you think of Christmas: the coming of the baby Jesus, “peace on earth, goodwill toward men?”
If so, you’re not unlike hundreds of thousands of millions of others over the centuries who think of Christmas and of the Messiah as a beautiful and simple, shall we say, ideal baby. The baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, surrounded by animals and the light of the star, causing not problem one. The baby who comes representing hope and peace and goodness.
Meanwhile, in our Scripture reading today, we’ve got John the Baptist prophesying and portending, dressed in raggedy clothes and eating bugs for food, proclaiming a Messiah that doesn’t sound like the one we’re waiting for today at all. The one John announces will come after him isn’t sweetness and light, but a whole ‘nother animal altogether.
John the Baptist was a Jewish prophet in his own right, with his own message and his own disciples, whose movement continued not only up to and through Jesus’ baptism, but according to the book of Acts, after his own death and Jesus’, and through the time of the beginning of the Christian community. If you read between lines there, you even gather that there might have been some conflict, some competition between the two groups – those posthumously following John and those posthumously following Jesus. Matthew, writing the gospel lesson we read today, however, doesn’t see it this way. Matthew sees John the Baptist as a forerunner and foreteller of Jesus; his primary purpose is not competition but divination – insight into the future and predictor of Jesus’ coming.
His primary message is to tell the people of his day to “(r)epent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” He is letting them know that the end of days in on the way and it is time for them to get right with God. He is also letting them know that he is just the beginning of this revolution, quoting the earlier prophet Isaiah, he tells the people also that they are to “(p)repare the way of the Lord, (to) make his paths straight,” to ease the way of the one who is coming to teach and lead them all.
You have to realize that the streets of towns and cities were lined with itinerant prophets in towns and cities in those days. Often little more than beggars, these men would wander from town to town preaching and teaching, gathering little groups of followers who would latch onto their message and take care of their welfare: feeding, clothing and housing the prophet – not unlike you feed, clothe and house Grace and me today. They were the rabbis, the teachers, the preachers of their time.
John is a bit different from the average rabbi of his day. He hangs out in the desert disparaging the peoples’ offers of food and shelter, preferring instead to eat wild locusts and honey, food that could be gathered from the earth, food that was the food of the poor and the downcast, people who did not have alternatives but to forage for their sustenance. This choice to eschew patronage and remain in the wilderness serves two purposes: it separates him from elegant society, aligning him with the poor and maligned, and it identifies him with the desert, which was seen as the landscape of eschatological renewal, the place from which a return to biblical values would come.
John not only looks different and sounds different, he practices baptism differently. Baptism was an often-practiced cleanliness ritual in the Jewish tradition. If you did or went through something that made you unclean, you would need to go immerse yourself in a water bath to make yourself clean again – to make yourself right before God. This might be required after activity such as engaging in warfare or after natural occurrences, such as a woman’s monthly cycle. When King David saw Bathsheba bathing on the roof of her home and became obsessed with desire for her, he probably was watching this private baptism ritual that women did and some, within Judaism, still do, monthly.
John the Baptist, who gets his very name from the water ritual that he performs on those who repent, is doing something completely different. John’s is not like baptisms before, it is not a ritual that must be done over and over again, when a person sins. Instead, the baptism that he proclaims and practices is once and for always. It marks not a new period in time in an individual’s life, but a whole new way of living altogether.
The story that we heard today, the story of John the Baptist’s appearance in the wilderness and his proclamation of a Messiah greater than he who is on the way, is also in the book of Mark. But the ways that the two gospel authors tell it is somewhat different. Oh, Mark tells the same story, but for another reason entirely. Mark’s purpose is purely to announce Jesus as the mightier one to come. He’s not interested in who else is around; he wants his readers to know Jesus is coming and he’s the one.
Matthew, on the other hand, is not simply about the one who’s coming, but about those who are to be his followers, those out in the crowd, the you and the me of his time. And he’s not easy on them, on me, on us. Matthew’s John the Baptist preaches the Messiah’s coming and the need to return to a clean path, but he also offers up a scathing indictment of those who stray in addition to his call for repentance.
Matthew is so involved in making this point that he does an interesting thing – he has the Pharisees and the Sadducees coming for baptism together, so that John the Baptist could yell at them. Now, let me tell you, people, this simply wouldn’t have happened. The Pharisees and the Sadducees were two very different groups of Jews, who believed in two very different ways of following the Jewish law. They didn’t practice their faith the same way: they didn’t agree with each other, they didn’t like each other, and they certainly weren’t likely to look at each other and say, “Hey, there’s this great guy down at the Jordan preaching repentance, let’s go check it out ourselves and maybe get dunked.”
Oh, no. These guys are the Democrats and the Republicans of their day, oil and water, a house divided, whatever metaphor you want to come up with. But Matthew brings them to see John the Baptist in a clump for a purpose. He’s setting up the antagonism between the Messiah and the leading Jewish factions of his day early on in the gospel, so that we know from the outset who the enemy is and can follow the plotline without question.
Well, John sees these guys coming and he’s off to the races, “What do you think you’re doing here?” he hollers, “You are the scum of the earth, you are the vilest hypocrites on the planet. Don’t think you can come to me and make it right. Your responsibility is to get right with God on your own. You’ve got to repent and then to bear the fruit of repentance. It’s not enough to come to me and have me plunge you in the water; you’ve got to prove yourself.
And oh, by the way, if you don’t believe me, just wait until you see who’s coming next. Because he isn’t going to be as nice as I am. Ooooh, noooo. He’s really gonna get you guys. I baptize with water, but to the one who is coming after me, that’s just child’s play. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.”
What does John mean – “(h)e will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire?” Now remember, the Greek word for “spirit” and “wind” are the same word. So John is saying that the Messiah will baptize with wind and fire. And wind and fire were both thought of as negative images of judgment. It is pretty clear from all of this that John the Baptist is expecting the Messiah that the rest of the Jewish community is expecting – one who is going to come in triumph and rule in grandeur and majesty over not just the Israelites, but all the neighboring countries around. This guy is going to be somebody to be afraid of.
“You better watch out, you better not cry,
You better not pout, I’m telling you why – Jesus Christ is coming to town…”
John saw Jesus not as the sweet little babe in the manger that we are all waiting to celebrate on Christmas Day, but as the adult he became. The adult who preached truths that we haven’t wanted to look at for 2000 years and would still prefer to ignore. Who wants a Jesus who tells us to sell all our possessions and give them to the poor? Who wants a Jesus who says to forget about your mother and father and brothers and sisters and follow him? Who wants a Jesus who tells us “whoever is without sin cast the first stone?”
If we’re honest, none of us. We all want to sit comfortable in our pews at church and chairs at home and watch the world go by, judging what others do, but not looking at the log in our own eye. And we certainly don’t want to think about it at Christmastime. We want to buy our presents and wrap and ship them in time for our relatives to receive them by Christmas day. We want to plan our menus and buy our goodies and bake our cakes and pies and cookies. We want to write out our Christmas cards and hang the ones we receive from others all over our houses so we can comfort ourselves with how good and popular and loved we are. We want to celebrate Jesus’ coming, the coming of a sweet little baby in a manger who portends “peace on earth, goodwill toward men” – as long as we don’t have to do anything to help bring that peace or show that goodwill.
But when Jesus came, what did he really come for? Did he really come to up the assets of Hallmark and Macy’s? Did he come so that we could all gain 10-15 pounds that it will take us the whole next year to get off – if we manage to at all? Did he come so that we could be more stressed than at any other time of year trying to accomplish all we usually do plus way too much more?
Not according to John the Baptist. According to John, he came to baptize us with Holy wind and fire. Once again, I ask you, what does that mean? What is it to be baptized with Holy wind and fire? Have you ever opened your heart to God – just for a moment, an instant – and heard what God is calling you to do? Have you ever walked past one of those Salvation Army bell ringers at Christmastime and had the thought run through your mind, “I should forget about giving gifts to everyone I know and put that money in the red pot, letting my family and friends know that I’ve given the money that would have paid for their toys and presents to a good cause instead.” Have you ever thought, I’m supposed to spend Christmas day at a shelter feeding the hungry instead of at home stuffing myself? Have you ever heard that holy wind, that holy breath, the holy Spirit in your ear telling you what to do – give the computer you never use to the battered women’s shelter, clean out all the clothes that you haven’t worn in at least a year, wash them, and give them to a Clothing Drive, take one, two, three, four, five “ornaments” off the More Than Mittens Tree here to my left and give to people who want instead of to people who have plenty, bring a can of food every week of Advent to fill up the basket in the foyer, donate your time and energy to leading a Sunday School workshop class, give a larger portion of your income to the church in the form of your tithe or another charitable cause, make an appointment to give a pint of your blood for those who end up in the hospital over the holiday season and then follow-through to show up and do it… Have you ever felt that holy breath, that holy wind blow through you with a call to the next thing that you are supposed to be doing?
And then once you heard that call, felt that breath, what did you do? Did you answer that call? Did you allow the fire of God’s passion to course through your veins, taking you up to the person you need to speak with to get involved, adding that extra $10 or $15 a week onto your pledge, making that phone call to become a Guide Dog foster parent or a Prison Inmate Pen Pal or a Meals on Wheels volunteer? Did you take the step to speak with Lori Galen or Fran Papell or Lynne Judd or Gloria Sperry or Alice Wansor to find out more about the Mission Team and how you might help? Or did you let the moment pass, and you didn’t take the “ornament” off the More Than Mittens tree, or write the check, or volunteer to read the Scripture lesson, or make an appointment to give blood or answer the call to be a Deacon or an Elder and at first you felt a little guilty, but then slowly but surely, the feeling faded and gee, isn’t it easier to sit back and let others take the lead. After all, you’re too busy, too young, too old, too poor, too busy, too too too… And you certainly don’t want to hear about it during Advent when your life is too crammed full with everything else. Where’s that feel-good story of Jesus birth, you’re thinking. Why does she have to stand up there and bug me now? Couldn’t she wait until after Christmas?
Well, let me tell you folks, this was the Scripture lesson I was given to work with and I’m trying to be as faithful to it as I can. The fact of the matter is, the story of John the Baptist’s appearance here during our Advent season does seem a clumsy one. It’s working up to Jesus’ coming all right, but not the coming of the baby, the coming of the grown-up. We don’t want to hear about that right now.
Even in the book of Matthew, this story’s position seems abrupt and inconsonant. Right before it, we read about Joseph and Mary taking Jesus to Egypt to get away from King Herod and right after it, Jesus goes to the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. Why is this story here? And why do we have to hear about it now?
But I ask you to reflect for just a moment, isn’t this often the way that God truly works in our lives? The action of God in history, the history of the universe and the history of our own individual lives, is often sudden, unexpected, and, dare I say it, inconvenient and intrusive. God’s will does not always work gently, climbing quietly like ivy up the lattice of history. Instead it comes in like a flash of lightning, and we are called to respond to what we saw for only an instant, sometimes not even sure exactly what it is that we’re supposed to do. We’re afraid to answer the call, afraid to step out in faith, afraid we might get it wrong. But when we take the chance, when we respond in faith, when we do what we heard in our hearts, amazing things can happen. Sometimes an Elijah appears, or a nation repents, sometimes a Berlin Wall is dismantled, or a Martin Luther King, Jr. strides across the landscape. God’s will shatters the mold, violates the categories, breaks in on the world as a jarring surprise.
Sometimes the events are smaller. A lonely child feels God’s love through a gift given by a stranger, a homebound person’s day is brightened by the presence of another, a life is saved because someone gave blood, a smile breaks through because a kind word was spoken. God’s will is seen in moments, but felt inside they are not small, but cataclysmic.
This is the way of John the Baptist’s entrance in our story today – the doors of Matthew’s gospel swing open and there stands John, in his ancient clothes with his wild hair and his even wilder voice, not proclaiming, “Good morning! God loves you,” but “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
There are 19 more shopping days till Christmas, folks, and I’m reminding you today of John the Baptist’s call: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Look at your lives, at what is going on in them and through them, and turn around, return to the God of your fathers and your mothers, that you might be baptized not only with water, but with the Holy Spirit and with fire. The ability to hear God’s will for you and to step out in faith and do it. The ability to open your eyes and your ears and your hearts to God’s call to you and then to take the actions to make it so. Our God is not a God of sitting around and thinking, our God is a God of action. A God who has acted in history and who calls us to act today. Will you accept the call? Will you feel the holy Wind and Fire blowing and burning through your heart and soul and body and mind, making this the best Christmas season ever? The season where you truly give the gift of yourself over to God and see where it leads you? …It just might change your life…Amen.