Every year during December
John
the Baptist shows up on a Sunday morning
proclaiming
the quintessential Advent theme:
Prepare the way of the Lord!
Rather
a catchy phrase, isn’t it? Prepare
the way of the Lord!
The image that is given for this preparation comes from
the Prophet Isaiah.
It
is an image of road excavation described on a gigantic level –
mountains
bulldozed into valleys,
taking
the bends out of the road,
one
straight, well paved super highway
to
drive home the point that
“…all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
Clear away every visual obstruction
so
that nothing obscures the view of what everyone needs to see:
the
salvation God reveals to us in Jesus.
I think it is important to ask right now,
What
is meant by this word, salvation?
This is very important because salvation is one of those key words
associated
with the heart of our Christian faith,
but somehow we Episcopalians
don’t
directly talk about salvation very much.
Salvation, simply put, is liberation, being set free.
We then have to ask, “Set free from what?”
It is liberation from whatever imprisons us, constricts
and binds us,
whatever thwarts living out our full humanity,
that
is, in a word, sin, whatever
thwarts living out our full humanity,
Sin can be expressed blatantly
in
all kinds of violence, greed, and hard-heartedness
seen
all too often all around us,
but there is also sin that is more subtle,
the
littleness of our minds,
our
self-centered focus of attention turned in on ourselves,
providing
blinders to wear so as not to look too much
at
all the human suffering around us.
We need saving from that just as much as from the more
spectacular sins.
Salvation is the result of Jesus working intervention in
our lives,
the
outcome of the Cross and Resurrection,
and
when we come to recognized that we are saved,
this
comes as revelation,
as
a given awareness of Jesus present with us.
So the John-the-Baptist Advent message is
to
prepare the way for seeing salvation.
Now, December is a very dark month,
not
just for lack of daylight,
this
being the time around the winter solstice
when
nights are longest,
when
seasonal affect disorder kicks in.
December is dark
because
it is also a depressing time for many
who
are in grief or want or loneliness,
for
whom the holiday cheer
associated
with rosy family scenes
and
full of happy expectation,
is
more like a cruel taunt,
something
hopelessly out of reach,
a
painful reminder of your isolation and loneliness,
of
how bereft you are.
Every year during Advent
I think it is important to talk
about this, especially in church.
This has come out of past experiences of innumerable
Decembers
in which pastoral care
situations would present themselves,
and it became obvious
that
December was a particularly difficult month
for more
people than you would expect.
As we look around the pews this morning,
the one you are sitting near
could be
facing some bleak situation right now,
or it might be you yourself.
What is the personal darkness that you may be in at the
moment?
Is
this a time of facing illness, disability, or the death of a loved one,
or
the memory or anniversary of a death?
Is
it some other form of personal loss?
Is
it loneliness, isolation, or “spiritual dryness?”
Perhaps you have been struggling with uncertainty about
the future,
fear
of transition, the pain of self doubt,
both
personally and for the parish.
Or
economic hardship,
or
the various ways we can become paralyzed and imprisoned,
psychologically,
emotionally, spiritually.
Or
take your pick of addictions,
where
there are attachments that bind and imprison us.
Or
relationship issues,
or
the effects of sin in your life
where
you find yourself as the one who sinned
or the
one who was sinned against - or both.
we
are left facing a very real and personal challenge
of
living in a crumbling culture,
seeing
the end of life as we have known it
without
a clear view through the terrain to the salvation of God.
Too often, I fear, suffering people just quietly give up
in
a search for faith or hope or being saved,
and silently drift away from
church; they just quit coming.
They don't have a connection with or identity with Gospel
hope.
So let’s look at what the Apostle Paul,
corresponding
with the Church in Philippi, wrote.
Paul
was in prison at the time of writing.
He
knew incredible difficulties.
And yet this letter he wrote to the Philippians
stands
out particularly among all his epistles
because
of its joy.
He wrote:
“I thank my God
every time I remember you,
constantly
praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you,
because
of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now.
I am confident of this,
that the One who began a good work among you
will
bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.
It is right for me to
think this way about all of you,
because
you hold me in your heart,
for
all of you share in God's grace with me,
both
in my imprisonment
and
in the defense and confirmation of the gospel.”
Verse 6 again:
“I am confident of this,
that the One who began a good
work among you
will bring it to completion by
the day of Jesus Christ.”
Now and again we need to hear a message of hope,
not
the pie-in-the-sky-by-and-by kind of hope,
but the Gospel story of God's mercy and saving grace and
loving kindness.
This kind of hope grapples with all the negative stuff,
and
faces up to the suffering which is universal,
so that negativism and grief and disillusionment
do not end up siphoning off all
that is positive, joyful and hopeful,
or
obscuring from view the tremendous salvation love
of
God for all of creation.
Paul spoke out from such a capacity of joy:
“because (he said) you hold me in your heart.”
(verse 7)
Now for Paul this was obviously
more than
people
just having a warm feeling about Paul.
He was being held in the heart of the community.
What does this look like if
we were to apply this in the same way
to
this congregation?
I
think you have stories you could tell me.
Holding each other in the heart of the community
is
our work of bringing peace to others, our work of reconciliation,
standing
by one another,
asking
how your neighbor is
with
the intention of really wanting to know how they are.
These are small ways in which a faith
community expresses
holding
one another in our hearts.
And in these challenging times
may that Spirit-given love and compassion rapidly
expand within us
to
meet ever increasing needs.
With the Apostle Paul I trust
that
“…the One who began a good work among you
will
bring it to completion/to fulfillment/to fullness
by the day of Jesus Christ.”
In Advent we recall that the life of the whole church
is
an in-between time of waiting, watching and preparing
between
the first coming of Christ
and his
appearing in fullness in our lives and at the end of time.
But it is also a time of great hope
in
which we too can become like John the Baptist
and
cry "Prepare the way of the Lord."
BECAUSE our hope is based in God's love for us,
a
love so profound that God became one of us,
and
was born in Bethlehem
just
so that the times of grief and loss,
the
times of hardship and difficulty,
could be overcome through and dissolve away in
the love
of God
present here and now in the
Spirit of the Resurrection Jesus.
And so I would join with Paul in saying:
“…this is my prayer (for you),
that your love may overflow more
and more
with
knowledge and full insight
to help you to determine what is
best,
so that in the day of Christ you
may be pure and blameless,
having
produced the harvest of righteousness
that
comes through Jesus Christ
for the glory and praise of God.”