The Second Sunday of Advent

St. Luke is a masterful storyteller. One feature of the way Luke presents the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is attention to detail. Luke locates the story of Jesus in real time. In the Gospel of Luke, “once upon a time” gets very specific.

The appearance of John the Baptist preparing the way for the coming of Jesus came when …

Tiberius was in the fifteenth year of his reign as emperor,
when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea,
and Herod the ruler of Galilee,
and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Tranchonitis,
and Lysanias ruler of Abilene,
during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas.

That’s pretty specific.

By describing who was in charge in that region and that time, Luke gives us a clear picture of the world into which John the Baptist preached and the world where Jesus began his ministry.

The advent or coming of Christ happened in real time when Israel was occupied. The areas of Samaria, Judea, Palestine and Jerusalem were under Greco-Roman rule and it is into these political and social realities Jesus arrived.

By providing this detail, Luke is also setting up a contrast between the empire and the kingdom of God. The Word of God came in those days not from Jerusalem or among the religious and political elite. The Word of God came first from a voice crying in the wilderness.

The wilderness is where John the Baptist preached. He preached a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sin. The content of the preaching from the wild eyed prophet who, as the other Gospels tell us, lived on a diet of locusts and wild honey and wore clothes made of camel hair and a leather belt, concerned big things!  In preparing the way for the coming of Jesus, John was proclaiming the best way to prepare required change, the kind of change that would make the people truly ready to receive him. To count on God’s word to come from the empire and the official religious leaders would be futile.

To listen to John, however, would mean a break with the status quo. John was preaching repentance. And essentially, the call to repent is a call to change.

John’s cry of repentance is a cry for change:

  • To set turn your life around
  • To change course
  • To change your mind
  • To reorient your heart
  • To change course
  • To step into a new future with God as the center of your life

Those who were exercising rule were interested in maintaining their status quo and their grip on power. They may have wanted you to believe they were speaking God’s word, but, instead it is this prophet in the wilderness who is preaching the word of God.

That’s how it is with the word of God. It often comes from places and from people we least expect and in the case of John, people on the margins. It isn’t always easy to listen to or even notice these prophets. They are often voices crying out in the wilderness. The traditional moorings of power overshadow the prophet’s voice.

Who wants to listen to a voice from someone like John the Baptist? We are comfortable with the status quo and we rather enjoy smooth sailing. To “rock the boat” means we would be dizzy, confused, and disoriented. Yet this kind of disorientation that leads to a reorientation is what is often needed the most.

 And this call to change is at the very heart and center of the Advent season.

Earlier, in the Prayer of the Day, we prayed: “Stir up our hearts, Lord God, to prepare the way of your only Son.”

That is what God likes to do. God stirs things up. God stirs up our hearts and it takes a prophet like John the Baptist who stuck out like a sore thumb to redirect our attention and help us open our hearts to be set on a course of change.

Change. Who likes that?

We look at the systems and imitations that promote power and greed and we for pray change. But maybe that’s the easy part. John the Baptist will not let us off the hook by keeping our focus only there. John wants us to look at ourselves – our self-centeredness, failure to love, and our complicity with the structures and systems that defy the things of God.

This is what repentance is – to first take a good look at ourselves and admit, confess these things so that shaped by God’s gift of forgiveness we will take a new leap of faith, turn toward the future, and make our vision the vison of God’s kingdom. To repent is to change our minds and hearts, our ways of living, and our behavior. This newness that God brings directs us always to the way of love and requires change.

A couple years ago I spoke with a friend who was exhausted and dispirited by the actions of some folks with whom he worked. My beleaguered friend sighed deeply and asked, “Are people really capable of change? Do people really change?”

Good question. I know that all of us, to one degree or another resist change. We entertain good and healthy change in our heads and hearts but often end up doing little or nothing. It reminds me of Albert Einstein’s definition of insanity: “Doing the same thing all the time expecting different results.”

And we get very skilled out pointing out the sins of others and we speak strong opinions about how someone else should change. Once in a while, after reading the morning newspaper I have constructed in my mind how best to solve the world’s problems. The problem is that when I get on my high horse, I fail to see that I’m part of the problem.  When you point the finger at someone else or something else, be careful because there are three fingers pointing back at you.

Often, I know how, or I think I know how congress should change or how my neighbor across the street should change or how my friend needs to change or how the Seattle city Council needs change. Often I forget that I too need to change.

Listen to John the Baptist. The change he announces is big stuff: every valley filled, mountain and hills mad low, the crooked made straight, rough ways made smooth. He is describing nothing less than a reclamation project or an extreme makeover and it begins with you and me.

This is where we really have distaste for change.

There are many images of John the Baptist where he is often pointing to Jesus. In some he is pointing to a Jesus. In others he is pointing to a lamb, the “lamb of God.” In others, he is pointing to a river, the river for baptism or he points to a road, a new path.

My all-time favorite image comes from the Isenheim altarpiece created by Matthias Grunewald in the early sixteenth century. It was originally used as an image for sick and dying peasants, many of whom suffered from ergotism, an infection caused by eating rye grain infected with fungus. In the piece, John the Baptist is pointing his long bony finger to the crucified Jesus, considered a source of comfort to those suffering.

I also see it is as a picture for contemplating life in Christ. When John points to the “Lamb of God” on the cross, he is pointing to the way of discipleship and the love that emanates from God’s heart. The image of God’s self-giving love stirs up our hearts. This is the one we want to follow and worship. For is in God’s self-giving love that we have a vision for good change and we are reminded of who it is that provides what is needed for such change.

So, this Advent, take a good look at yourselves. Let’s take a good long look at ourselves and then ask where might we take a new step in the adventure of loving others? How might we look both at ourselves and others through the lens of God’s compassion? How might we bear the fruits of this love to others?

Some years ago, a group of three pastors asked how best to practice Advent and Advent’s call to repentance during a time when the culture is consumed with over-consumption. Their concern was talk about Advent wasn’t enough. Doing Advent in the midst of our busy holiday, corporate driven season requires a stirring up of our hearts.

So, they developed something called “The Advent Conspiracy.” The Advent Conspiracy developed four guiding principles:

  1. Worship fully. Make a conscious effort to reorient your hearts to God in prayer and worship for their God speaks to us and forms us.
  2. Spend less. Be mindful of the overconsumption this time of year. Sponging less doesn’t mean you don’t spend at all. Instead, carefully discern your giving. Maye you want check our Lutheran World Relief or local ministries who provide for people in real need. Organizations like LWR often have a “Good Gifts” program where your donations help provide water or foodstuffs for people in third world countries.
  3. Give more. This giving more isn’t about giving more money. This is about celebrating relationships and to find ourselves giving more and being more intentional about our existing relationships and maybe even forge new friends or connections with neighbors. Maybe get to know someone better who is different from you.
  4. Love all. Love as Jesus loves. Move closer to people in crisis. Turn your hearts the poor and hungry and the hurting.

Worship fully. Spend less. Give more. Love all.

Not a bad way to Advent. These are the things that make for good change. They are ways to have our hearts stirred up.

Listen to John the Baptist and prophets like him. They point always to Christ. They point to the values of living in God’s kingdom and as repetitive of Jesus in the world. Listen and pray and ask God to stir up your hearts.

When my friend whom I alluded to earlier, in great exhaustion and discouragement asked if people could change, I don’t remember what I said, but in pondering the question, I think I would answer it this way: “No” We do not have it within ourselves the will power or means to change, but “Yes” there is someone who can change us and does change us.

Look to him. Look to the one whom John points to. For Christ does and will stir up our hearts.

St. Paul says it well in today’s second reading from his letter to the Philippians: “God who began a good work in you, will be faithful to complete it.”

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.