Month: December 2024

Repenting, rejoicing, and giving are the themes for this Sunday. Zephaniah did speak words of comfort, but the people were in exile, refugees of an Old Testament kind. He said peace and modest prosperity would return but only after the proud and arrogant who flaunted their accomplishments and self-sufficiency against God were removed. The words of rejoicing were spoken to the poor. 

And Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians from prison, encouraging them to rejoice and to be generous to all.  Joy and generosity. Opening our hearts and lives to the peace of God which passes all understanding leaves no room for pettiness about possessions, control, and status which are the basis for most of our worries and tensions. 

And then we get John the Baptist blasting away out there in the stubble-covered desert, surrounded by tinder-dry brushwood and rocks calling the people a brood of vipers, where if a spark started a desert fire, the snakes would slither out of their crannies and hiding spots and flee in fear of the flames. 

The Jews thought of themselves as safe from judgment because of their status as the God’s chosen.  But John said no!  We hear strong images:  fire chasing the snakes from their hiding holes; axes chopping down trees; and a flat, wooden, shovel-like tool tossing grain and grain dust into the air, sifting and separating the useless from the worthy.  Once again, we reminded that the love and the judgment of God go together.  God doesn’t allow us to be worthless but will instead purify us. For love’s sake God is relentlessly stern with everything in us that is self-centered. 

Rejoicing might be easier if John the Baptist’s words were not so very concrete.  Most of us, after all, have a lot of shirts, and money in the bank to buy more. Years ago, I preached on this text in another congregation.  I asked the people what would happen if those of us who had two cars rushed out to give one of them to family who needed one. I asked, “What would happen if those who have a second home were motivated by the Baptist’s words to find a homeless family who might be settled there?  Let your imaginations go wild…” I challenged.  “What would it be like to give away the clothes from our closets, the food in our cupboards and our freezers?  Would we find a peaceful simplicity and a full and true rejoicing?  According to John the Baptist, then we would be ready for the day of the Lord.”

I can’t tell you how stunned I was when the next week when a woman shared with me, privately, what she and her husband had done.  They owned a vacantvrental house in a small Minnesota town.  A friend of her sister’s had lost her job and was living in a shelter in Minneapolis.  So, that week they moved her into their vacant house for the winter. And there was a different kind of joy that season.  It was a tempered joy—because the homeless woman’s challenges continued and the solutions were not easy—but there was joy. 

I read a story in the Christian Century Magazine by Austin Crenshaw Shelley. He wrote about growing up with his grandparents in a 500 square foot home in South Carolina. His grandpa reviewed all expenditures, except the grocery shopping which was entirely up to his grandma. Though they never went hungry, there was good reason to be frugal.

Every Saturday Austin went with his grandma into town and pushed their cart up and down the aisles while she carefully selected food in duplicate—two boxes of cereal, two jars of peanut butter, two bags of flour—until as he said, “our cart looked like an abstract rendering of Noah’s ark with its produce and nonperishable food items arranged two by two.”

Afterwards they drove straight to the town’s food bank, where his grandmother would donate exactly half of everything she’d just purchased. She bought his silence each week with a small candy bar, which was not immune to her rule: one chocolate treat for him, one for the food bank.

He remembered on one of these grocery trips, when he was eight or nine years old, he asked for a name-brand cereal he’d seen advertised. “We can’t afford that one,” she replied without looking up from her list. “We can if we don’t buy two of them,” he grumbled. Grandma met his eyes, put her list down so she could place her  hands firmly on his shoulders. She measured her words carefully: “If we can’t afford two, we can’t afford one.”

Was their weekly grocery run a direct response to John the Baptist’s words? “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, whoever has food must do likewise.” Austin reflects: “Given my grandmother’s tendency to interpret scripture more literally than I, the odds are favorable that John’s exhortations laid an unavoidable claim on her heart—a claim that required her obedience through concrete action.”

It’s all too easy to rationalize the claim of the gospel on our lives. Like John the Baptist’s hearers who relied on God’s covenant with Abraham, we lean heavily on Jesus’ promises of forgiveness and grace, often ignoring our responsibility to love our neighbors. “What shall we do?” ask the crowds, tax collectors, and soldiers in this passage.  We try to wiggle our way out of those demands for ethical living by claiming a figurative reading of the text. Or we abstract the prophet’s words from the reality of our lives and the lives of others. We talk a good game. But most of us, myself included, buy the single box of the more expensive cereal without a thought.

The question at the heart of this text is not “What shall we believe?” It’s– “What shall we do?”  John’s response is clear. Repentance has to do with ethics, with action, with the Holy Spirit’s compelling us to be God’s hands and feet in the world—with attention to the needs of others rather than preoccupation with our own salvation.

Austin Crenshaw Shelly concludes his article with these words:  By the world’s measure, my understanding of John’s preaching is more nuanced than my grandmother’s. But no advanced degree in theology will ever come close to her faith. “What shall we do?” the people ask the prophet. Sometimes we like to pretend the answer is complicated. Sometimes it really is. But buying two bags of flour is a good start.

I think he’s right.  God asks us to share what we have been given, not to share more than we have been given. It is the same with ministry. God asks us to do what we can; God doesn’t expect us to do what we can’t. After all God is the one who does the miracles. This is something I know I need to relearn again and again.
 
I was moved by another story this week about another grandmother told by her granddaughter.  At the time of her grandfather’s death, at 90 years of age, her grandparents had been married for over 60 years. Grandma felt the loss deeply and retreated from the world, entering into a deep time of mourning for nearly five years. 
 
One day the granddaughter visited, expecting to find Grandma in her usual withdrawn state. Instead, she found her sitting in her wheelchair beaming. When the granddaughter didn’t comment quickly enough about the obvious change, Grandma asked her “Don’t you want to know why I’m so happy? Aren’t you even curious?”

She explained her new understanding: “Last night figured out why I’ve been left to live without my husband. Your grandfather knew that the secret of life is love, and he lived it every day. I have known about unconditional love, but I haven’t fully lived it. … All this time I thought I was being punished for something, but last night I realized that I have a chance to turn my life into love, too.”  Although age inevitably continued on its course, her life was renewed. She became a force for reconciliation and good relationships in her family. In the last days of her life, the granddaughter visited her grandma in the hospital often. As she walked toward her room one day, the nurse on duty looked into her eyes and said, “Your grandmother is a very special lady, you know…she’s a light.” Yes, love and joy lit up her life and she became a light for others until the end.
 
Everything we have is a gift from God, even the gift of life. And these gifts have been given to us to use and then to give away. That’s how we rejoice. John says that those who have two coats or more food than they need should give to those who have none. When that grandma did not give away her life to others in love, when she was focused only on herself, she was not happy, she had no reason to live. But as soon as she came to the realization of another way, things changed. 
 

Rejoice in the great goodness of our God, who uses peace and joy and love to win us. Let’s live in the light of joy. ‘Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.

Once there was a man who joined a Cistercian monastery and began his 3-year path to becoming a monk. When he arrived, the monk in charge of novices gave him a tour. He showed him the gardens, the barn, the kitchens—all the places where daily work took place. He showed him the refectory where meals were eaten, the chapel of course, and the rooms where each brother lived. The rooms were spare, just a bed, a chair, and a desk with a bible and the rule of the order on it. At the end of the orientation tour the monk reminded the novice about the Cistercian order’s vow of silence.

A regular pattern of work and prayer continued for a year at which point the novice met with the Abbot for his first review. He was allowed to speak two words. He said, “bed hard!”  The abbot raised his eyebrows. The next year went by and he came in for his review. At the end of the meeting his two words were, “food bad.”  Well, the abbot didn’t look very pleased by that comment either. The next year went by and at his review the novice said, “I quit.”  “I’m not surprised,” the abbot said, “all you’ve done since you arrived is complain!”

Silence is a rare thing, especially here in Mazatlan. Zechariah found himself silent for nine-months, while Elizabeth, his wife, was pregnant with their one and only son, John the Baptist. What do you suppose Zechariah discovered in the quiet? What if we could get inside his story. How would he tell it? He might start by saying:

It has been hundreds of years since Israel has heard from a prophet. The nation is a mess with its series of weak and corrupt kings, dominated by one Empire after another, the Assyrians, the Babylonians, the Greeks and finally the ruthless Romans. We have been hoping for a deliverer – a Messiah – who will set us free from our oppressors and be a King like David, establishing a kingdom of righteousness and justice.  

We know the words of Isaiah, unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given… and the government will be upon his shoulders and his kingdom will never end. We hold to the covenant God made with Abraham – I will bless you and make you a blessing… and through your seed, all the world will be blessed.

But there’s been a lot of waiting and hoping and not much change though– except more injustice and oppression – which seems to know no bounds.

He might ask:

Do you like your government?  Do you ever wish things could be better? In Israel, we have had enough… we want a good government!  But I’m an old man. If I’m honest, I doubted that I would see it in my lifetime, that the prophecies of our prophets would ever be fulfilled?  I’m an old Jewish priest. All my life I’ve known only foreign rule. Oppression.  The Romans – I despise them.

I wasn’t always old. I’ve just slowly gotten older and older and now here I am. I’m old. Maybe even ancient. My wife is named Elizabeth. She, is not old. Oh no! Elizabeth is most definitely not old. She is, let me get this just right – I learned this in marriage class…“well along in years.” That means she getting better and better as the years go by.

All my life I’ve been waiting and praying for three things: first to serve in the temple as Priest, next– to be a father, and finally– to see the Messiah. 

As I said, I am a priest. My father I was a priest. Let me tell you about that. Serving at the Temple in Jerusalem is the highest honor a priest can have. Eash priest serves at the temple for one week each year. I am a member of one of 24 divisions in the priesthood, one of approximately 18,000 priests. Each priest only officiates at the sacrifice once in his lifetime. And we are selected by lottery. In other words, you could be a priest all your life and never be called to serve in the Temple.

Finally, my name was called! My first prayer was answered. So, there I was in the temple – it’s our most holy place in all the world. I was feeling very excited, hoping I wouldn’t make a mistake. My job was to burn incense – symbolizing the prayers of God’s people rising toward heaven.

The altar of incense is made of acacia wood with a veneer of gold. Acacia is a beautiful hardwood that is almost indestructible. The altar is thirty-six inches high and eighteen inches square. It serves as a place for the daily burning of incense, both morning and evening. This twice daily exercise consists of a priest taking burning coals from the bronze altar in the temple court, to the altar of incense, and placing the coals upon the incense. The incense is a mixture of five spices. When the hot coals hit the incense a burst of smoke and smells float up to heaven.

Well, that day, my day, in that moment, as I placed the coals on the incense – symbolizing prayer – I got a message. You could say an angel appeared and said… “your prayer has been heard.”  When I saw him, I was startled, afraid. It’s not every day that you get a message from God. The message was: “Do not be afraid, Zechariah; your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son.

If I’m honest, I’d given up on that after all the years. I thought it was too late.  The message  continued. His name would be John. Of course he would be a joy and a delight for us, but the angel said that many would rejoice because of his birth, and he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He will be filled with the Holy Spirit even before he is born. He will bring many people to God. And he will go before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah.

Of course I recognized his words … from Isaiah – and Malachi. I was startled and shaken… and without thinking I blurted out…, “How can I be sure of this? I am an old man and my wife is well along in years.”

I thought it was a fair question. I was not expecting all that when I woke up that morning – and besides – I was already excited to serve in the Temple…. So, I over-reacted! That did not go well at all!  The angel looked at me with astonishment,

“I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news. And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their appointed time.”

Then I realized – this is no low-level angel – this is Gabriel!  Before I had time to apologize… Boom. Immediately, I lost my speech. Talk about bad timing. You see, when the priest comes out of the temple – after burning incense- he gives a blessing to the people…But I couldn’t speak…all I could do was use sign language. The people gathered at the temple that day knew something unusual had occurred.

I’m sure they were wondering what took so long? What happened? And of course, I couldn’t say a word. Like I said before If you want to talk when an angel is around – well, just don’t.  Keep your mouth shut! So, I just made motions with my hands… I think I looked shaken and I may have staggered a little. People seemed to figure it out… “he’s seen a vision” … I think something happened in there!”

I just wanted to go home and be with Elizabeth. But I couldn’t even talk to her! Two prayers answered in one day!  …and after all these years of waiting… and waiting. Those words are still ringing in my ears – “your prayer has been heard.” Except… I lost my tongue. Nothing was coming out. Not a sound. I discovered something about angels – they like to have the last word! 

Maybe it was God’s way of saying – stop talking and just watch… I’ll take it from here. And then – not long after this temple “experience” – Elizabeth announces that she’s pregnant.

I was filled with anticipation.  I had time to think. And read. I remembered our patriarch, Abraham, and his wife, Sarah. They also had no children. They also were old. They also had a visit from an angel to talk about a baby. Their baby – baby Isaac – was a fulfillment of the covenant God made to Abraham.

Is our baby going to have significance on the scale of Isaac? Is this the beginning of the new covenant? The one Jeremiah prophesied about 500 years ago? The implications are amazing and overwhelming.

Six months into the pregnancy another piece of the puzzle appears. Elizabeth’s cousin, Mary, arrives for a visit. You won’t believe this but it turns out she also had a visit from the same angel – Gabriel.  But that’s another story—a long story.

Sure enough, Elizabeth gave birth to our son. Our neighbors and relatives came and shared our joy. On the eighth day we came to circumcise our baby. Everyone thought we were going to name him after me – Zechariah, that’s the Jewish way. But, Elizabeth spoke up and said, “No! He is to be called John.”  People questioned her and asked me what I would like to name the child. I asked for a writing tablet, and to everyone’s astonishment wrote, “His name is John.”

I wanted no part of a run in with Gabriel again. My mouth was opened and my tongue set free, and I began to speak. Everybody was filled with awe, and throughout the hill country people were talking about all these things, wondering, “What is this child going to become?”

You know, I’d had a long time to prepare my words. Maybe all expectant parents should be struck silent for 9 months, long enough to realize the child is not just an extension of its parents but has its own God-given life and role and dreams to fulfil. Until then I thought a child would make me proud, give Elizabeth the honor she deserved. But God has so much more in mind for my son, I suppose for every child. It’s like Jeremiah said about God, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.”  I was thrilled to finally sing the song I had been composing over my silent months, to praise God’s actions in the past, and to look forward to the good things God has planned for us.

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel,
who has come to his people and set them free.
The Lord has raised up for us a mighty Savior,
born of the house of his servant David.
Through the holy prophets God promised of old to
save us from our enemies,
from the hands of all who hate us,
to show mercy to our forbears,
and to remember his holy covenant.
This was the oath God swore to our father Abraham:
to set us free from the hands of our enemies,
free to worship him without fear,
holy and righteous before him, all the days of our life.
In the tender compassion of our God
the dawn from on high shall break up on us,
to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Amen.