Sermon for 2 Advent: "Ready or not"

Sermon for Sunday 4 December 2016

2^nd Sunday of Advent

Lutheran Church of the Redeemer, Jerusalem

The Rev. Carrie Ballenger Smith

Matthew 3:1-12

“Ready or not”

We had so carefully prepared for our autumn trip to the US. Plane tickets were purchased months in advance. Guided tours of historic sites were confirmed and interviews at prospective colleges were arranged. Hotels were booked when possible. But in Kingston, New York, the less tiny town closest to the very tiny town where one college was located, our best option for lodging was not a hotel, but a portion of someone else’s house. We arranged this rental through a very popular website—a site which shall not be named, for fear that what I’m about to say next may reflect poorly on their business.

As we approached the address of the rental, I remembered the listing had said, “historic” and “under renovation.” Indeed. The centuries-old mansion retained only a faint glimmer of its old glory. It was clear that someone was trying to restore it. I only hoped the inside was further along than the outside.

We rang the doorbell. No answer.

We knocked at the back door. No answer.

We waited a bit in the driveway.

We searched our phones for some contact information.

Finally, seeing no other option, Robert went to the back door, opened it, and yelled inside.

Soon a man popped out, in a state of dress that suggested he had been in the process of a very long nap.

After a short conversation at the door, the man disappeared back inside the house. We waited a bit longer, and then he emerged, fully dressed, with a big smile on his face. “Let me show you around!” he said.

Our host took us around to the front door, and we stepped inside, where, in the entryway, we encountered a massive canvas proclaiming in giant, hand-painted letters (I kid you not): “Repent! And sin no more.”

Now, you might assume I started planning this Advent sermon on the spot, but I promise I was only thinking about finding a pillow and a place to lie down!

Our host did his best to dress up the obvious faults in his house: 

The ceiling is missing, but the new one will be amazing. This part of the house has no floor, but a new, ecologically friendly floor would be arriving soon, and very soon.

The host then pointed us to the spiral metal staircase leading to our second-floor living quarters.

It was not just that the staircase was narrow enough that I wondered if my carry-on suitcase would fit.

It was that when you looked up, you saw that the staircase didn’t actually reach all the way to the second floor.

There was a gap. A fairly significant one, at that. “You have to hop a bit at the top” said the host, helpfully.

The surprises only continued.

There was a sofa bed, but no sheets or pillows. A bathroom, but no towels. A television with no channels. A coffee maker with no coffee, no filters, and no carafe.

I was starting to get the feeling this host was not expecting us.

He really was a very nice man. He brought us coffee, and a bottle of wine. He suggested a great pizza place in the next town over. He brought us breakfast (the listing said “bed and breakfast” after all) in the form of granola bars and pomegranate juice.

But no amount of organic juice in the world could cover up the fact that our host was unprepared for our arrival.

In this morning’s reading from the Gospel according to Matthew, we meet a locust-eating, camel-hair-wearing prophet of the Lord warning us not to make the same mistake in welcoming the Messiah. “Prepare the way!” says John. “Repent! Make his paths straight!” At the very least, he might say: If you want to welcome Jesus, make sure the staircase reaches all the way to the second floor. Make the necessary renovations before he arrives. Make a place for Jesus and his kingdom—in your heart, in your life, in your world. Be prepared. Be watchful!

Be ready, for Jesus is coming soon.

John the Baptist’s sole calling in life was to prepare the people for the arrival of the Son of God—and he didn’t mess around. His lifestyle was provocative. His message was challenging. And his sermons were literally filled with “fire and brimstone”.  As it is written:

“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 sermon might not fill the pews at Redeemer Lutheran in Jerusalem today, but John knew his audience. He knew they needed a message to wake them up and get their attention. Above all, John knew who he was and what he was called to do: He was the voice in the wilderness. He was the one the prophet Isaiah had foretold. He was the one sent to cry out to any who would listen: The kingdom is near! Salvation is at hand! The world is about to be turned upside down! And you are so not ready.

Sometimes, we don't even realize how un-ready we are. When I was in college, studying music, I made money by teaching piano lessons. Most of these lessons took place in the afternoon, after kids were out of school. But for some kids, soccer and ballet and swimming and horseback riding (and a million other things) got in the way, so they needed lessons in the morning. Before school. At 7:30.

That’s 7:30 a.m.--Not exactly a preferred time for college students to be awake and functional.

Many years later, I can now admit that there was once—okay, more than once—when the doorbell rang while I was still in bed, sound asleep. Perhaps you don’t believe someone could leap out of bed, put on glasses, brush teeth, and answer the door in sixty seconds. But I did it! And I was sure no one noticed. I was confident that my last-minute preparations would be enough. I figured: I was awake enough. I was ready enough.

Now that I’m a parent, I have a pretty good idea the mothers of those early morning piano students knew exactly what was up. 

In the same way, I am sure John the Baptist knew exactly what was up with the Pharisees and Sadducees who were coming to him for baptism. He knew they were famous—at least in their own minds—for following the letter of the law. They enjoyed being the most pious, the most religious guys on the block. They lived their lives (and preached to others) as if they had it all figured out.

So when John saw the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to be baptized, he knew they weren’t coming because they wanted to repent. They weren’t coming because they believed what John was saying about the Messiah and wanted to prepare. They were coming to be baptized because everybody else was doing it! They were coming to the water to have all their bases covered. They wanted a little sprinkle, just in case the Messiah did show up as John said, and then they could say, “See! I was prepared! I was ready! I knew you were coming, Jesus!  My head is even still a little bit wet from that baptism John gave me.”

This is a bit like me showing up at my front door at 7:32 am in my pajamas saying, “Here I am! Ready to teach your children some music” and thinking I should win a Teacher of the Year award.

There is an oft-quoted saying that success is “only 10% hard work, and 90% showing up.” But John the Baptist says showing up is the easy part! Being dressed and at the door is not enough to be a good piano teacher. And getting dunked in water by a prophet is not enough to be ready for the Messiah and his kingdom.

For this reason, when John saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance.”

Bear fruit worthy of repentance! In other words, John says being prepared for God’s Son to be born among us, and for God’s kingdom to be born on earth as it is in heaven, requires something more than just showing up. It requires more than passively waiting for things to change. Welcoming God’s kingdom of love, peace, justice, and reconciliation into our lives and into the world requires turning away from our old habits and our favorite sins—racism, sexism, systems of oppression, selfishness, revenge, and apathy toward the suffering of our neighbor—and turning towards God. It requires, as John said, making the path of the Lord straight.

Let me be clear: The birth of Jesus is a precious, undeserved gift. And, at the same time, John’s fiery sermon about repentance is for us. We are the Pharisees and the Sadducees. Just as John called them to consider why they had come to the water, so this season of waiting and preparation is a time for us to consider why we are journeying to the manger.

Advent is time for us to reflect:

Is my heart ready to receive Jesus, born anew in my life? Is our community ready to receive the justice and peace we’ve been praying for? Is our world ready for the upside-down kingdom of God to be fulfilled on earth, as it is in heaven?

What fruit are we bearing as we prepare the way? 

This week, I had the pleasure of visiting the Peace Centre for the Blind in East Jerusalem, one of the ministries our English congregation has supported for many years. I received an email from the director, Ms. Lydia, earlier in the week, and learned that the school is facing the worst financial crisis of the last 34 years. It was a very good time to deliver our congregation’s annual donation.

When I arrived, Lydia was on the sofa with a young student and her father, so I sat down quietly and listened. Ms. Lydia—herself blind since she was a toddler—was knitting a fluffy green scarf while chatting with the girl in Arabic.

“What do you mean you want to quit school?” she said. “What will you do? You are making such great progress! We need you here. Don’t worry about the checkpoints. We are working on your permissions. How about one more month? One more week? One more day?”

As Ms. Lydia knitted furiously, and talked just as furiously, I saw the girl and her father start to relax. Their resolve was fading. Soon, they were smiling. I was certain this student would be back the next day, and the next week, and maybe even the next month to continue learning. The girl and her father stood up to leave, and Ms. Lydia kept right on knitting.

There are eleven students living and learning at the Peace Centre right now. Only eleven students. I’m sure there are some who would say that after 34 years of fighting the Israeli government, and fighting prejudice against the disabled, and fighting for money to keep the doors open, that Ms. Lydia should just retire. That she should close the school. That eleven blind Palestinian girls are not worth the struggle, the money, or the effort.

But every time I sit with Lydia, I come away knowing that this woman of faith is not only preparing eleven visually impaired girls for meaningful work and an empowered life—she is preparing the way of the Lord. She is preparing the way for God’s kingdom on earth. She is making the path straight for a kingdom in which all girls, no matter where they are born or what religion they are, have the chance to get an education. Ms. Lydia and her passion for these girls is a call for the world to repent--and she is getting us all ready for God's kingdom, where the visually impaired don’t need our pity, because society has a place prepared just for them.

Ms. Lydia’s school may not be making profits, but it is bearing fruit—fruit worthy of repentance. Fruit worthy of the coming kingdom. Fruit worthy of Jesus, the Son of God, who is indeed coming soon. 

Dear sisters and brothers in Christ, on this second Sunday of Advent, as the light from the Advent candles has increased, and our joy has increased, and our anticipation of Christmas has increased, so may our repentance and commitment to bearing fruit increase. For He is coming soon: the One who is more powerful than any prophet, preacher, or politician. The One who heals the sick. The One who gives sight to the blind. The One who brings justice to the oppressed. The One who liberates the occupied. The One who embodies peace, from the manger to the cross and to the empty tomb. We don’t want to be caught sleeping when he comes. We don’t want to be unprepared. Lord, we want to be ready! Amen.