Hope - Rhymes with . . .

Matthew 3:1-12

In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, 

"The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:

`Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’"

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all the region along the Jordan, and they were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he 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. Do not presume to say to yourselves, `We have Abraham as our ancestor’; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.

"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."

On the sermon brainwave podcast - Rolf Jacobson makes a great point. “What is John the Baptist doing in Advent?”  Anyone who can find a way to banish John the Baptist from any part of the lectionary is a friend of mine. . . 

He goes on to suggest that he would preach from the last verse of the Romans text - “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

That appeals to me. Preach on hope. 

Heck, some folks get elected to office on “hope.” 

(Lot of good that does ‘em.) 

I told Pay No Toll that this text from Romans was calling to me for this Sunday, he sort of wondered HOW one could preach on that. 

I can’t recall what he said exactly. I just remember that his questioning the practicality of preaching on that text sort of blew my whole sermon idea out of the water. Seemed to him a bit like trying to preach on a motto.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”

While it wouldn’t fit on a refrigerator magnet, it does seem sort of slogan-ish I guess.

What seemed interesting about Jacobson’s suggestion, I suspect, is that I would like to have hope. And hope seems in short supply. And hope seems to be . . . sort of Adventy - while at the same time (if you really think about hope and not some pathological sort of optimism - “I just know this Titanic is going to right itself and float on home”) - sort of Adventy and counter cultural.

Maybe that is one thing one could say about John the Baptist throughout the ages. This guy is one counter-cultural dude. The camel’s hair/leather belt thing, that might be in style at times, but NO ONE is doing the locusts and wild honey diet. No one.

Folks may go down to listen to him, might be baptized by him, but they’re not sticking around for dinner. “We’ll hit the Subway on the way back to Jerusalem.” 

And so - what the heck is John the Baptist doing in our Advent preparation for the coming of Jesus?

Inspiring hope?

I wonder at the call to repent. 

Question: What might inpire repentance? 

Answer:

a. Sorrow for sin? 

b. Fear of punishment? 

c. Hope in God’s promised future?

While a and b might be correct answers for the test, c seems the most life giving, doesn’t it?

I read a sermon by Pay No Toll. 

He asked this question: “Dare we hope?”

And he worked with the Isaiah text and visited with John’s call to repentance in such a way, that - - - call me crazy - - - I was moved to see the call to repentance itself as a call to hope.

Finally - let me suggest that our hope is - ever and always - grounded in the resurrection. 

I’ll close this rambling bunch of non-directional meandering with a few lines of PNT’s sermon

Dare we hope?

It is safer not to lay ourselves out there. To dare is to have enough courage or audacity for something. It is to venture, to take a chance, to be fearless. But such daring can also seem like foolishness. It can seem unwise or even dangerous. The teachings of this Jesus can often strike us like this. We instinctively sense the danger, say, in loving the enemy, or not worrying about what we will eat or wear, or forgiving someone who has wronged us, or living already a future of peace when the world right now seems so filled with fear and hate.

The danger is as obvious as the bread we break and the cup we share. Blood was shed. A body broken. Jesus himself lived a future before its time and the violent world put a violent end to his rash experiment. Isn’t his cross a reminder of what happens when God’s future gets lived too early? What possibly could propel someone to take up the cross and follow? I might prefer to wait and see, but God’s future won’t let me alone. When I take and eat, I taste the wine of God’s new day.

WHERE? HERE? WHEN? THEN?

Matthew 24:36–44

But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

I saved a BC cartoon from years and years ago.

The baseball coach is talking to a glum looking guy who's holding a bat, and says:

“Son, you’ll never get a hit with such a negative attitude”

The next frame - everything goes black, you just see two sets of eyes, one surprised, one glum.

The last frame, the coach says: “What the heck was that?”  and the ballplayer glumly drolls - “Lightning”

I love that cartoon.

Anyone I’ve shared it with, however, looks at me - (glumly) - and wonders what’s wrong with me.

It seems to me that when I read a text like this, 
“But about that day and hour no one knows” 

I get caught up in the threatening nature of it. “One taken, one left.” 

I begin to worry “Who will be taken?” “Where will they go?” “What will happen to them?” “How can I not be taken?” 

Further, I worry at all the knot-headed ways this text is read by the You-Know-Who’s out there. . . (I digress)

Might we find in this text a call to wakefulness - a call, not to fear, but to delight in the gift of life?

Three years ago, the Vicar of Vice led us off with a reflection that caused me to think about this in this way.

Be awake for his appearance!

I might add this as well.

Take note of this one detail. . . 

He is already here!!!!

Ironic, isn’t it?

Luke 23:33-43

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, "He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!" The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!" There was also an inscription over him, "This is the King of the Jews." One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!" But the other rebuked him, saying, "Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom." He replied, "Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise."

Here’s a question.

Why is it that irony is the best vehicle for communicating the Gospel?

The best.

Why is it, that this is so elusive to so many?

Evidence That Demands a Verdict was the title of a book when I was young. What is it now? The Case for Faith. There’s irony for you, make such a case, that by the time you're done, that faith won’t be necessary. You’ll know. 

The blessed rage for certitude. . . 

Just started reading The Promise of Despair: The Way of the Cross as the Way of the Church  by Andrew Root. Looks. . . promising. My wonderful wife saw the title of the book - only the main part, “The Promise of Despair” and suggested that it didn’t sound real uplifting.

Yup.

Looking back on what I’ve preached on this text before, I was interested to see a sermon just a few months after the attacks of 9/11. 

I don’t know how that sermon went. I tried to wonder with the congregation at irony and the Gospel. 

It seems so long ago, but post nine-one-one some suggested that in light of the heroism we witnessed, that cynicism would be dead. 

. . . I have to say it, I can’t help myself. . .

“Yeah, right.”

here’s part of my sermon 

I heard an essay on public radio the other day that I thought was striking. The man said that although irony was supposed to be dead now, he kind of doubted that. This writer, whose tools are words, ironically went on equating irony with cynicism without knowing the difference between the two. 

I suspect that cynicism arises out of the realities that one faces in our world. We see, over & over, that people, even when they do good things, are often motivated by greed & selfishness. When somebody says “this is going to hurt me as much as its going to hurt you” probably they are simply overestimating their pain, & underestimating yours. We learn, that when one says “it’s the principle that matters” we ought to look carefully at their motives, & wonder what it is that really matters. And when someone says: “it’s not about the money. . .” well, you can finish that one for me. There is the outrageous line by Lily Tomlin that goes like this: “No matter how cynical I get, I can’t keep up.”

...often we assume that the only alternative is a naive optimism. 

. . . As one famous philosophical notion put it:“this is the best of all possible worlds.” Yet, finally, we know that such an attitude won’t hold up. It will be dashed by the sad realities of the world around us. And so, we are quickly falling back into the cynicism that was declared dead just a few months ago. 

The Gospel gives us another way to approach & understand our world. That is the irony of the cross. Not cynicism, not naive optimism, but the strange working of God, who turns everything on its head, & brings about the unexpected.

How can the irony of the gospel work its ironic transformation when we mistake irony for cynicism, and cynicism for being hip? When we mistake an insane positivism for optimism, and an accurate assessment of our finitude as some sort of defeatist attitude?

Christ the King Sunday seems to me to be an orientation day. Yes, we’re about to finish off the liturgical year, but this day seems more aptly celebrated when we use it to re-calibrate our vision for the coming celebration of the appearance of our Savior King. 

It seems to me that Christ the King Sunday invites us to clearly proclaim the irony of God’s King. 

King of the Jews, and King of Pilate and everyone else in the story. 

King of you and me. And all the world. 

King of kings and . . . King of Pain.

How can the baby in the manger ever be considered cute? 

Hearing our Gospel for this Sunday, one might well wonder at how one could trivialize this journey that follows the road to this cross? This journey that leads to this King’s proclamation: "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." 

Maybe we can - one more time - proclaim this one who loves and forgives and suffers and dies as our King.

Not that anyone will believe it.

Yet finally, it is the only way. 

It is all we have. 

How is it, that THIS story, is the most life affirming story you’ve ever heard?

THE

MOST

LIFE

AFFIRMING 

EVER

Ironic, isn’t it?

Who Gets It In the End?

Luke 21:5–19

5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.” 7 They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8 And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them. 9 “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10 Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven. 12 “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

I got an interesting mailing a couple weeks ago. The world is going to end on May 21st, 2011. 

One week before my wedding anniversary. 

Nice to know that the pressure’s off for buying a fitting anniversary present. 

I can’t remember seeing such a specific date for the end. I guess I just wasn’t paying attention to the right things. . . maybe took the wrong biblical exegesis classes. . . maybe paid too much attention to that “. . . about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” sort of text. Or should I say texts. I can imagine that ignoring those warnings - warnings sounded forth in Matthew, Mark and Luke - might give rise to all sorts of fun.

Back to this though.

I read a text like this, and I think to myself, “we’re doing some stewardship stuff this time of year, lets leave the lectionary for a week or so.” And this is what we’re doing. Not only that, I’m leaving town, and having someone else preach on Stewardship. 

It crosses my mind to suggest, that this text invites stewardship of the Gospel, and an assurance that rests solely on God.

“When you hear of these things, when these things take place, you will always be under my care. Do not worry. Not a hair of your head will perish.” It is interesting how apocalyptic texts are so dark dark dark, and yet hopeful.

I wonder if hope that is declared in the face of tragedy might ring more true than the hope that is declared - suggesting that one can skirt around all troubles.

I’m just glad I’m not preaching Sunday. 

Looking back three years ago, I offered this in response to a nice opening by the Vicar of Vice:

I wonder at how we see the future. 

As threat? 

As opportunity? 

As a chance to buy something really nice?

Does the Gospel invite us to speak of the future in terms of promise - calling us to a vision that is somehow different than how we tend to look at (as well as "look to") the future?

P B’ment then made a comment that makes me wish I had thought to say this; and so I will,   

I think that our talking about the apocalyptic needs to move us to ethical living. Because not a hair on our head will perish we can live self-lessly for the neighbor.

That dog, as the saying goes, will hunt.

But he’s a little bit . . . under trained . . .  and I’m just not sure I can get him into the truck, much less get out to the fields, what with all I have to do between now and then.

Did I mention that I don’t have to preach this Sunday?

I will try harder, the rest of the week, to not gloat about that fact.

Or maybe I won't.

Saints My Eye!!

Luke 6:20–31

²⁰Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
"Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
²¹"Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.
"Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
²²Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. ²³Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
²⁴"But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.
²⁵"Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.
"Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep.
²⁶Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.
²⁷But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, ²⁸bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. ²⁹If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. ³⁰Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. ³¹Do to others as you would have them do to you.

I wonder at this All Saints Day stuff. 

Where are these Saints, anyhow? Surely not in my congregation. 

Perhaps its a bit cliche to suggest that the Saints don't always look so saintly. . . 

but still, its true.

And so, I suspect, that as much as I don't think so, I think a preacher may need to remind the hearers of their saintliness. 

They won't believe it, and frankly, many of them shouldn't.

It was interesting - in workingpreacher last week, and I think on the podcast this week, were the comments - "Preach the text, not the day." 

Well.

Shall we ignore the day?

Won't the day shape our reading?

SHOULDN'T the day shape our reading, since the sermon will take place that day? And . . . 

Perhaps I'm just crabby because the lectionary committee gives us such crummy texts for All Saints Day.

I have to admit, that right now, I can't imagine what would be better. But something must be better. 

The blessedness of the blessed lies in most unexpected places, doesn't it? Makes me think of Mary - and Luther's reflection on the Magnificat - that what God "regards" in Mary - what he looks upon when he blesses her with the calling to bear the Christ Child - is her lowliness.

It is interesting to me that we have these two festivals in succession. Reformation and All Saints. 

The blessedness is given by God. It is announced by Jesus.

That's my Reformation reading.

I don't think this is especially fitting the texts, but I can probably wedge it in.

I have 3 kids receiving their First Communion on Sunday. . . 

I'm thinking of following a preaching path in which I speak about the disciplines of piety.
I know its a bit of a dicey path. Hard to speak of things we might do, without prescribing them as necessary, or somehow meritorious - not that anyone would use the term merit today.

I think I saw Stoffregen once ask - "What is it that Christians do that is unique to them?" 

And his answer was that Christians get together weekly, and have bread and wine and know God to be present in that simple meal. We might well add that it is unique to us, that we see that something that is done for the least of these our brothers and sisters, is done for Jesus.

There might be something to that. . . that a saints day sort of festival might invite us to ask who we are, and in light of this text, where Jesus announces the poor, the hungry, the weeping, the hated, blessed, that we might speak of how this meal- this announcement - this Lord to whom we belong - shapes the lives we lead.

Not that, hearing this, my congregation will look any more saintly on November 14th when we gather again. . .