Luke 2:1-20 

My nephew and his new wife really wanted to have a child.  And after about a year of trying – but who’s counting – they conceded it wasn’t happening!  Already for about two years, they had considered their chocolate lab as one of the family, practically equal to a human child to love and care for.  But finally, deciding they wanted more, they went to see a fertility specialist.  After the requisite testing and screening, the OBGYN recommended they were indeed good candidates for fertility treatment.  Well, long story short, on October 3, they had twins!  We haven’t had twins in our family for at least 3 generations!  For my mom, that doubles the count of great-grandchildren! 

Joseph and Mary are having just one little baby.  They can count on that.  That is, if they survive the journey to Bethlehem for the count of the emperor’s census!   “In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.” 

And so, young Mary and Joseph dutifully make the 100K hike to enroll in Rome’s taxation.  Their immediate cross to bear, however, was finding a place to take them in.  The unwed couple is swept away from the familiar surroundings of home, in Nazareth of Galilee in the north, only to be shut out of housing (Posadas) in Bethlehem of Judea, in the south of Israel.  The innkeeper turns them away, saying they’re full up.  Or was it something he saw in them he didn’t like: teenagers, Galileans, rival tribe or family?  ‘I can give you a place in back with the animals,’ says the Innkeeper, but, I imagine him saying, ‘I’ll have to charge you the same price!’  Mary, the God-bearer, is given the least of accommodations.  And Jesus, no crib for a bed even, is laid in a feeding trough for the animals, called a manger.  The emperor is counting on them, literally, for tax purposes, but no one else, save the sheep and the Shepherds, tells them they count. 

Ten days ago now, 20 children and 6 adults senselessly lost their lives in Newtown, CT, in another American gun tragedy.  But who’s counting!  As horrific as it is – 6 and 7 year olds, so close to Christmas – still, apart from our collective national mind that has been awakened, it makes you wonder, is one life more important than another?  Elementary school children more than high school kids?   The children in CT, as opposed to the 35 children killed in Gaza last month?  Or the 231 children killed in Afghanistan in the first 6 months of this year?  What of the nearly 500 homicides in Chicago this year, more than one a day?  Which ones count more, or less?  Whose parents will grieve less, or oddly, forgive more? 

Jesus – born into our world, born as one of us, the infant lowly, rejected by the powerful – is laid in a manger, totally vulnerable, and at the mercy of the world.  Pictures of this event are among the world’s most popular 2,000 years later: Madonna and Child, mother holding infant, in practically every culture and nation.  Christmas awakens that vulnerability in us.  Families gather, we spend lots of time and energy on giving more than receiving, and the coffers of charities are remembered and refilled.  The consciousness of the nation and world coalesce for a brief moment, and fullness of life and peace seem possible.  We are willing to hold one another!

The well-being of the new-born Jesus, his surviving and thriving, depended on the willingness of other human beings to protect and sustain him.  Today we see this in our Nativity scenes, as Mary and Joseph hold him, and, we can imagine, do whatever is needed to help “him grow and become strong,” as Luke says.  In Jesus, an heir and child of God, a new part of God’s DNA is born – God’s vulnerability.  Because of the manger we are reborn to adore and hold Jesus with awe and wonder.  Yet, at the other end of Jesus’ life, we find that, despite his innocence, nothing can save him from being sentenced to death.  What does this new vulnerability say about our God?  Or more to the point, what is God telling us about ourselves?  

Survivors in Newtown were photographed, perhaps most often, as they embraced and held one another.  A particularly moving picture is the one of a young girl, slightly taller and older, hugging a boy as he gazed back at the school.  When words fail, the first thing we want to do is hold on to our loved ones and friends.  In the face of grave danger, survivors can comfort each other with the closeness of human contact, bridging the vulnerability that we all come from, and reassuring one another that we count. 

Another famous rendering of mother and child is Michelangelo’s Pietà, when Mary holds Jesus’ lifeless body after it was taken down from the cross.  The sadness, is lifted up by the compassion of her loving embrace.  It reminds me too of the gift given, in Newtown, by a parent of one of the children that was killed, Robbie Parker.  He was the last one I expected to offer comfort and forgiveness to the family of shooter, Adam Lanza.  “I want you to know that our love and support go out to you as well,” said Mr. Parker about the killings, that they “not turn into something that defines us, but something that inspires us to be better, to be more compassionate and more humble people,” he concluded.  Forgiveness can be a powerful tool in our lives, because it reaches out past our own vulnerability to name all people as creatures who count in God’s eyes, and in our own eyes too, even for those who hurt our loved ones. 

And so we continue to hold one another up, strengthening each other in life and love, out of our vulnerability, which no amount of guns can ever insure. 

If I could give an award this year in 2012, for the hard work of peace and justice on behalf of the vulnerable, I think I would choose, “Nuns on the Bus.”  In the middle of a contentious political year, they rose above the fray.  As leader Simone Campbell said, “We’re idealists, but we’re not naïve.”  And so, wherever the Bus stopped, they were greeted with hugs, because they stood up against powers much more prominent and spoke the truth on behalf of the most vulnerable: the working poor, some 46M, those without access to effective healthcare, and without housing due to the foreclosure crisis.  They spoke as people of deep faith for those in the real world, whom only Shepherds and Angels usually notice.  So, Sister Simone and the Nuns on the Bus get my vote! 

Just to let you know, regarding my nephew and niece-in-law, I’m happy to report that their twins are healthy and growing – a girl and a boy – though both parents, predictably, are sleep deprived!  And at Thanksgiving, still tiny at seven weeks, and mostly sleeping, I finally got to hold them, so vulnerable, yet well-loved little miracles.  They are accounted for in our family – they count! 

On this holy night God tells us that we count – in our vulnerability, God cradles us, God loves us, God is with us, as one of us.    We embrace this vulnerability that Jesus taught us, as the way to salvation, peace and life for all.   

The Fourth Sunday of Advent (C)
Micah 5:2-5a
Luke 1:46b-55
Hebrews 10:5-10
Luke 1:39-55
Pastor John Roberts

Women Who Believe

Mary had already had that visit from the angel. 
Probably between the ages of 14-16; engaged to Joseph but not yet married to him;
the angel told her that she was going to have a baby. 
And this baby was to be the Son of God.
Most teenage girls would have resisted in some way. 
She could have fainted. 
She could have laughed like her ancestor Sarah did when she was told that she was going to have
a son in her old age. 
She could have cried foul: “everyone will think I have been unfaithful to myfiancé.” 
She could have just said no.

But she didn’t. 
Maybe it was because she had seen an angel, the archangel Gabriel in fact. 
Maybe it was because she heard the angel tell her “don’t be afraid, Mary. You have found favor with God.” 
Maybe it was because she had been taught by her parents that one day there
would be a descendant of David who would be the messiah and she knew that she was,
in fact, a descendant of that great king. 
She didn’t understand. 
But she believed the message. 
She said yes to God. 
She answered the angel “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be
with me according to your word.”

The angel also told Mary that her cousin Elizabeth who was much older than her and was thought to
be barren was already six months pregnant. 


Elizabeth’s son had been promised by the same angel Gabriel. 
But John’s conception was announced to Zechariah, not Elizabeth. 
Zechariah didn’t believe the angel and so, was made mute by the angel
until the birth of his son. 
Do you remember the events of John’s birth? 
Since Zechariah couldn’t talk, when it came time to give the child a name, they asked Elizabeth. 
“His name is John,” she told them all. 
“But no one in your family has that name; he should be named after his
father, Zechariah,” the crowd said. 
Zechariah commanded a tablet and wrote on the tablet:”HIS NAME IS JOHN!”
because that’s what the angel told him to name him. 
But how did Elizabeth know? 
The angel had not told her. 
It must have been that Zechariah, during the nine months of pregnancy,
had found a way to tell Elizabeth all about the appearance of the angel. 
And yet, he didn’t tell anyone else. 
No one expected the old priest and his old wife to have a child in their old age. 
No one expected the child to be named John. 
No one knew because Zechariah hadn’t shared the story with anyone but his wife.

So now, in today’s Gospel, Mary has left her home in Nazareth in Galilee. 
She walked all the way to a village outside of Jerusalem where Elizabeth and Zechariah lived. 
When she entered the house, Mary called out to Elizabeth. 
Just hearing Mary’s voice, the baby in Elizabeth’s womb jumped so
excitedly that it was noticeably significant to the old woman. 
Filled by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Luke tells us, when
Elizabeth greeted her young cousin, she echoed the words of the angel Gabriel. 
“Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.  This is really great! 
This is an honor that the mother of my Lord has come to me. 
You know, as soon as I heard your voice, the child in my womb jumped for joy! 
Blessed are you, Mary, for believing what God has revealed to you.”   Elizabeth, too, believed!

Is there a reason that Luke has featured the faith of these two women?  
Put that beside the fact that Zechariah didn’t believe the angel and kept his secret from his neighbors. 
And add to that the story from Matthew’s gospel. 
Joseph, when he knew that Mary was pregnant, wanted to “put Mary aside.” 
Not unlike the days when our society had pregnant, unmarried girls sent to homes where they would give
birth in secret so that no one would gossip. 
Is it significant that the women in these infancy stories are seen as more righteous than the men? 
You bet it is. 
You see, women, in ancient Jewish society, not unlike some societies today, were seen as
the property of their fathers until they married; and then, they were the property of their husbands. 
They were second class citizens. 
They were, to use biblical language, lowly.

Don’t you see? 
Luke is telling us today that God is doing something significant here. 
God is casting down the powerful, the proud, the rich; and is lifting up the lowly. 
By birthing God into flesh, God upsets the order of the world. 
Listen to the words of Franciscan father, Richard Rohr:

“When God gives of God’s self, one of two things happens: either flesh in inspirited or spirit is enfleshed. 
It is really very clear. 
I am somewhat amazed that more have not recognized this simple pattern. 
God’s will is incarnation! 
And against all of our godly expectations, it appears that for God, matter really matters. 
God, who is Spirit, chose to materialize! This Creator of ours is patiently determined to
put matter and spirit together, almost as if the one were not complete without the other. 
This Lord of life seems to desire a perfect, but free, unification between body and spirit. 
So much so, in fact, that God appears to be willing to wait for the creature to will and choose
this unity for themselves – or it does not fully happen. 
Our yes really matters, just like Mary’s (and Elizabeth’s) mattered.”

Today there are women all over the world who still personify the
lowly: the little girl from Afganistan who was hospitalized, hanging on dearly
for life, because she dared to say that powerful men could not keep her from
going to school; the women of today’s Bethlehem who have to travel around an
inhumane wall and through five Israeli checkpoints to give birth in Augusta
Victoria Lutheran Hospital; the nuns who risk Vatican censure to beg our
government to pay attention to the poor instead of bicker about debt; the mother
who tried her best to raise a son only to be murdered by him before he killed 26
more people, 20 of them little children. 
God is saying to them and to us today, “these are the ones for whom I became flesh.”  
 
You see, God has accomplished something outrageous; something
revolutionary; something out of this world by becoming one of us.
The birth of Jesus, which we will soon celebrate, is not just a silent, holy night;
it is a cataclysmic entry into the world which changes the order of life forever. 
And to all of us who feel like we are insignificant, God says, “Blessed are you!”  
Women and men: Blessed are you!  Rich and poor: Blessed are you! 
Young child and those who are old and weak: Blessed are you! 
If you believe that God has inspirited you, then you cannot be insignificant. 
You are what matters. 
Now, don’t be like old Zechariah, don’t keep this a secret. 
That same Spirit who scripted Mary’s song and who choreographed John’s
prenatal dance calls you today to sing and dance because of this good news. 
Really!   Go tell that on the mountain! Tell it to your spouse, your children,
your neighbor, your co-worker, your government and to the whole world! Sing and dance because God has become
one of us! 


 
  

Only five days to the End of the Mayan Calendar, and fifteen days to the fiscal cliff!  How very Advent like!  Sounds a lot like John the Baptist, all full of warning and alarm – the end is near!  Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come, you brood of vipers!  But is this really John’s main message – that the end of the world is coming?  Definitely, sounds like a part of it, but it’s probably not, not the whole, that is, of what he’s driving at, here in Luke’s gospel.  The ‘warning’ comes as part of a package deal, along with, ‘promise,’ so that we may be transformed - us and God’s world – into much, much more! 

So, if we take a moment, and ask a few questions, do a little deep breathing exercise, and engage our faith and trust, we might just get to where the Mayans and John are trying to take us.  Turns out the modern hype of the Dec 21 prediction, that the sky is falling this Friday, is all a misinterpretation.  Indigenous Mayan’s are ‘not happy’ with how their culture has been portrayed around the world, and commercialized locally.  The 5,000 year old prediction has everything to do about the ending of an era, and, the new and hopeful beginning of another.  But that’s something very different than an apocalyptic end of the world! 

And, the fiscal cliff is slowly but surely being debunked too.  There is no cliff, in the sense of abruptly falling off the edge like Wiley Coyote.  Yes, the economy would probably turn more recessionary again, because of the austere measures that would be triggered, but not right away, all at once – it’s more like a fiscal curb or slope.  And, turns out, the “crisis mode” that law makers want us to buy, has been completely made up by a bi-partisan decision of their own making: Unable to do the work we elected them to do, they ‘kicked the can down the road’ two years ago.  The real crisis we have right now, if you think about it, is the high unemployment, and lack of jobs, that is tearing apart the lives of young people, families, and the middle class, and would, if it were addressed instead, help to reignite the economy.  This is a crisis and a tragedy we’ve been living in, actually, since before the current Great Recession, and has only deepened as Politicians and their positions have polarized.  If law makers were not so beholden to special interests that finance their re-election campaigns, and were more attentive to voters, well, I’d bet – crisis averted! 

I believe this is directly related to our life together as a faith community and cannot be separated.  Crisis, is a faith issue.  But prophets, like John the Baptist, did not go out and manufacture crises.  They were often blamed for it – and thus the term, “bearer of bad news” – but prophets were actually, courageous truth-tellers.  They offered a warning of an impending crisis, but also a promise.  The promise was usually good news, like we hear from the prophet Zephaniah in our 1st Reading.  All the doom and gloom in Zephaniah’s first 2 chapters – the warning, that Israel must pay for its wandering, sinful and unethical behavior, is omitted.  On this third Sunday of Advent, we traditionally turn to the joy and hope of the season – and lift up the good news of God’s promise.  And so we hear from Zephaniah that there will be removal from disaster and judgments, the Lord will rejoice over the people with loud singing, you will be freed from your oppressors, the outcast will be saved, and you will be brought home.  So too, John is not just fire and brimstone, but makes a promise that a savior is coming with more power than he, who will bring us a baptism of the Holy Spirit and Pentecost fire. 

Crises loom.  They come and go in every age.  And prophets offered a way out.  They remind us of who is charge, and that this God covenants with us, that if we remain faithful and true to God’s agreement, that is where abundant life will be found.  Prophets call us back to this covenant agreement, and tell us the bold truth that no one wants to hear, that breaking the covenant has consequences, that it’s really a failure of our own doing, and we have no one to blame but ourselves.  

What do we have to do then, all the people ask John, in order to avert the fiscal cliff?  ‘Share your food and clothing with a neighbor in need,’ says John.  But the tax collectors, surely they can’t be saved?  Like banks too big to fail and politicians who enable them, they were the perfect example in Jesus’ day of cheating people out of their money.  But even they come to John at the Jordan River to be baptized:  “What should we do,” they ask?  And John replies, ‘Stop stealing from your neighbors.’  And finally, to the soldiers, their oppressors, John says:  No more using your power to blind side and take advantage of the citizens.  John is specific: No hoarding, no skimming, no extortion.  Do this, and you will bear fruits worthy of repentance. 

If there is no Mayan end of the world in five days, and no fiscal cliff in 15 days, what is our real crisis?  We might be tempted to say, it’s the horrendous shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut this past Friday, an emergency so grave and hurtful it is hard to know what to say, a senseless tragedy that fills us with powerlessness, anger and tears.  But this kind of violence is not the root of our crisis, today, or in any age, but more likely a symptom.  Not that this excuses the horrific incident, and the very real pain for the families and friends most directly involved.  But today we can only sit with them in their grief, and surround them with our prayers. 

The crises that prophets unveil, on the other hand, reveal root causes and a hopeful existential choice that empowers us, that gives us a community opportunity that is not a feeling of powerlessness, but its opposite.  Like the Mayan calendar ending, that marks a whole new age about to begin, which is a warning but also a hopeful new day on the horizon, the crisis and promise of the prophets and John the Baptist, reveal the liminal space that God has opened up to us – the realm and kingdom of God that is coming, and indeed, is dawning upon us, right now, and always. 

Crisis is coming, warns John, and he gave his life warning us of it – just as most all the prophets before him did.  But as a truth-teller, he also opened the way for the gift of Jesus to come.  John knew that no matter how righteous we feel and how reticent we are to enter the liminal space, no matter how much we think it’s the other guy, and how convenient it is to want to blame the messenger instead of repenting of our own stuff  and turning around in a new direction, toward God, yet, Love prevails, and God will win the day.  So my favorite passage from today’s gospel is this, “do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘we have Abraham as our ancestor’; -the father of our faith- for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.”  Where does that leave us, as the people of God? 

It places us, I think, in an existential crisis, exposed to the truth of our age, that we cannot hide anymore behind a righteousness of doctrine that indeed, understands and confesses the faith, but without actually living out our love of neighbor.  We need both – faith in word and faith in deed – whether that means, sharing our coat and meals, or dealing honestly with all those we live and work with.   God doesn’t need our wonderful words and good intentions, but forms and reforms the faith community – raising up new heirs to Abraham in surprising and new ways – from those whose deeds match up with their words. 

We always have a warning and a promise set before us – a brazen truth, and an Advent hope, a light that is coming out of darkness, the gift of the dual ministry of John and Jesus, cousins and iconic partners.  Crisis is a faith issue, and a spiritual opportunity, directly related to our life together as a faith community.  When we come together to hear God’s Word and respond in deed, we find renewed hope and joy, a gift of grace we can’t wait to open.  

“…and all flesh shall see the salvation of God…  For he is like fullers’ soap”. 

Back when I bought my black suit coat of fine wool, the cleaning tag on it read: Dry Clean Only.  I hesitated before taking it to the clerk, mostly because I knew dry cleaning used harmful chemicals that, if not disposed of with great care, end up in our rivers, lakes, and drinking water – this was before there were any Green Cleaner’s.  But I needed a new suit, and this was the one I liked, so I resolved to limit my dry cleaning to once, maybe twice a year, and now of course, to take it to an environmentally friendly Green Cleaner, when I do. 

Sometimes, I have to admit, the Green Cleaner process can’t get out really bad stains, and only the old fashioned dry cleaning really works!  Ground in dirt, coffee spills, salt rubbed off the car, all gone - and it looks just like new.  Best thing is, all I have to do is pick it up, they do all the dirty work! 

Last week, at our Villa in the Caribbean, there was a sign by the wash machine: Do not use bleach – bad for septic!  St John’s is one, big, giant, volcanic rock, of an island, jutting up in the sea.  Even if you could dig down through it, there’s no water there to bring up, so your fresh water on the island is a gift from the skies, which open up regularly to relieve the heat of the tropical afternoons.  And so pretty much every building is fitted with wide gutters to catch the showers as they rain down on red roofs and are carefully sealed in ample cisterns.  Waste water, collected in septic systems, is treated and returned safely to the ocean, as long as no bleach is added to this closed eco-system of reusing and recycling.  When my sister-in-law took a chance and washed a mixed load one day, thinking she had washed her colorful towels once before, she was un-pleasantly surprised when the whites came out all pink!  “A little bleach will take care of that,” she said – “when I get home!” Nothing like dry cleaning or bleaching, like a “fullers’ soap,” to make things white and clean again! 

Though John was a man well down on the list of Important People in our gospel reading, this Baptist, son of Zechariah, had a special job there in the wilderness, by the Jordan River.  He came to do what God called him to, wash us clean.  He was preparing “all flesh,” all the people, to re-Exodus and re-enter, into the Promised Land.  John was the Voice on the margin between the desert and the River Jordan, crying: the Advent of the Messiah has arrived, “Prepare the way of the Lord,” for “all flesh shall see the salvation of God”. 

 

That was John’s job, but, a wholly impossible job really!  How to make way for the Son of God?  How to make us ready to re-enter, to come home to a new place we’ve always meant to be?  To re-enter us, a whole people, through a baptismal washing, and to prepare us for the brilliant vision of the salvation of God here in this crooked world – a salvation for “all flesh.” 

Of All those leaders Luke mentions at the time of Jesus’ birth -- the Emperor in Rome, the Governor Pontius Pilate in Judea, and Herod in Galilee, his brother Philip in the region to the east, and finally, the high priests in the Jerusalem temple, Annas and Caiaphas -- the Word of God passes all of them right by, and comes to – of all people – the guy camped out on the margins in his camel hair coat – it comes to John, a Voice that cries out, and evokes a déjà vu experience of  Elijah and Moses.  John the Baptist is called on to prepare the way for the coming of the Messiah, where everything old is new again, finally.  At the boundary line between the Wilderness and the Promised Land – John is our Dry Cleaner, our bleaching white agent, our “fuller’s soap”.  Even though John’s time and his call is short, his message is purposeful and unique, calling all flesh to be ready for “the salvation of God” and the Advent of Christ. 

I wonder if John ever took his camel hair coat into the Jerusalem cleaners – you can be sure it needed it, living in the wilderness, but I doubt it!  And there was such a place, actually, just outside the capital city.  It was deliberately zoned outside the city limits because of the strong odor that came from the lye-like cleanser they used.  This home-made bleach cleaned many a coat and tunic in Israel – mostly of sheep’s wool, however, and not camel’s hair!  It was a hard work of scrubbing, and a pungent odor like bleach, but it totally transformed each garment from old to new again! 

Is it possible for us to be prepared for the coming of the Lord – to be dry cleaned and lye-cleaned?  Can we really prepare ourselves for the salvation of God, for this new kingdom, which will turn the world upside down, and inside out?  To repent, as John the Baptist cried out, meant to turn around from the way you are going, and walk in a new direction – and follow Jesus, to bee cleansed like the strong, smelly, chemical-y, fuller’s soap, to make room in hearts and lives, for Jesus to be born. 

Can we make our Baptismal robes white enough in this washing?  By the time we get to Christmas, will we be ready for the clean white swaddling clothes, and the glistening white stars in the night sky?  How do we prepare our robes to be ready for the royal birth?  Each must make ready in our own hearts of course.  But harder yet is all flesh making ready together! 

How do we balance our budgets, for instance, whether family, church, or nation?  Is there such a thing as a shared sacrifice?   Can we be honest about who is in need, and who has more than is possibly sustainable in this ecosystem of God’s creating?  How do we care for our precious resources and make our environments, both natural and social, sustainable as we dry clean, and lye clean, and make ready?  Where is the boundary line between our old life of waste and pollution and our new life of living with the new-born king, this precious child wrapped tightly in brilliant white bands of cloth?  Where does the boundary line lie, that asks us to live together in our freshly washed baptismal clothes, so that “all flesh” shall see the salvation of God together? 

Like our environment and eco-system, we live in a shrinking and self-contained world, where “all flesh” live inter-dependently, and so in some important way, we are called upon as white-robe-wear-ers to care for “all flesh” even as we know how to take good care of ourselves. 

If we don’t all prepare the way for the Advent of Love and Grace-itself, the birth of this child-king, none of us may be fit to receive it. 

But, we are well ready, who trust in the one who comes like the gift of the opening skies, which rain upon us, washing us clean, and showering down on us, the gift of life.  Remember your baptism, and like a fuller’s soap, be bleached of all doubt!  John prepares us for this in-breaking of the Christ-child – for the advent of salvation for all flesh is nigh!  

The First Sunday of Advent (C)                             
Pastor John Roberts


Jeremiah 33:14-16
Luke 21:25-36



Does Anybody Really Care About Time?



Happy New Year! 
This is the First Sunday of Advent, the first Sunday of a new Church
Year. The first Sunday we use a new
lectionary listening to Gospel readings from Luke’s Gospel. 
So, one would think that we would begin by reading from the first chapter
of Luke; but instead we begin in the 21st chapter with what is often
called the “little apocalypse,” the series of warnings Jesus gives to the
disciples as they stand in the shadow of the great Temple in Jerusalem. It seems, therefore, that we have done
something strange with the concept of time.  And that’s just what Advent is all
about: a strange re-ordering of time.



If you are as old as I am, or if you like the music of the
1960s, you may remember the words of a song sung by
CHICAGO,

Does anybody really know what
time it is?
Does anybody really care?
If so I can’t imagine why
We’ve all got time enough to
cry/die.


 


Advent asks us to think about the question, “What time is
it?  What time is it in the life of
our nation; our neighborhood; our congregation?  What time is it in your life?  Do you really know? 
Do you really care?  While
the English language has one word for the concept of time, Greek, the language
of the New Testament, has two: 
chronos, from which we get the word chronological; and kairos, meaning a
distinct time, a special time, a significant time we will always remember.



 


When I used to wear a watch, I always preferred to wear one of
the old-fashioned watches where two hands moved around the face of the watch;
never a digital one.  If I wanted
to know what time it was, I wanted to watch time continue to move forward and
look at where it had been as well. Many people today tell time by looking at
their cellphones.  Time, for most
of us has become a series of fleeting moments where nothing really matters and,
therefore; moments for which we never really
care.



The First Reading and the Gospel Reading for today have a lot in
common.  Both Jeremiah and Jesus
are reflecting on the Temple with their disciples. 
In Jeremiah’s case, the original Temple which Solomon had built had just
been demolished.  The people of
Israel had seen the Babylonians tear it down, desecrating not only the place
where they worshipped God but a place which was the very heart of their
nation.  (Think of how you felt
when the World Trade Center came down.) 
Luke’s listeners had also known the destruction of the Temple; this time
the Second Temple, built by Horrible Herod with Roman money, but it was still
the symbol of who they were, a nation dedicated to One God. 




At first glance, Jeremiah’s words sound like Gospel, Good
News.  And Jesus’ words sound like
a prophecy of doom. 
Does anybody really know what time it is? Isn’t it supposed to be the
other way around?  Jeremiah tells
his disciples that the promises of God will be fulfilled. The days are surely
  coming and at that time, Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in
safety.  We think we know what that
means. We hear these words centuries later and interpret them to mean that
Jesus, the Righteous Branch of David, is the One who brings justice and
righteousness to the people of God. But think for a moment like those Jews in
exile.  The only way they could
interpret Jeremiah’s promises was to believe that somehow a political miracle
would happen.  Maybe the two powers
of the world they knew –Babylonia and Egypt – would knock each other out and
leave them standing alone in peace and security.  That’s quite a miracle Jeremiah was
asking them to believe. Israel had
been cut off; leaving it like the stump of a tree of history and they were to
believe that a living branch would grow out of that to become a new
tree?



Maybe we will find a better look in the other tree spoken of
today – the parable of the fig tree Jesus tells in the Gospel. 
“Look at the fig tree and all the trees;”  Jesus says, “as soon as they sprout
leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near.”  But then Jesus connects the sprouting
trees to the signs he spoke about earlier. Sun, moon, stars, earth, seas and waves
all in distress along with people fainting and foreboding what is coming upon
the world.  “Be on your guard,” he
tells the disciples and us, “don’t weigh down your hearts with dissipation and
drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly,
like a trap.”   “Be alert at
all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these
things.” Sounds like quite a
warning.  Maybe we need to think
about December 21st as it approaches. Maybe the Mayan calendar is
right.  Maybe the end of the
world…………



Oh, stop it! This is Jesus we’re thinking about. His words are
Gospel, Good News.  Jesus isn’t
asking us to worry about the calendar, Roman or Mayan. Jesus tells us in the
middle of today’s Gospel, “Stand up and raise your heads, because your
redemption is drawing near.”  Jesus
would have us remember today another tree: the tree upon which he died, the tree
of salvation.  Upon the tree of the
Cross, Jesus obtained our salvation. 
On that tree, our sins are forgiven and life, for us, will always be life
lived in grace and light and love.



Jesus asks us to live in a series of KAIROS
moments.  That’s what Advent is
about.  These are not just four
weeks of quaint, syrupy anticipation for the birth of a Baby in Bethlehem. This
is about today!  Living today’s
moments surrounded by fears that our nation will fall off the fiscal cliff and
that countries like Iran are determined to bring war and destruction again to
Israel; but living in the knowledge that our
redemption is touchable; that we, like Jeremiah’s Judah, have
justice, righteousness, salvation and safety in our very
midst.


 


In this Advent of 2012, stand and raise up your heads to see the
Son of Man coming in power and great glory into
your life.  This Advent, see
that time is not the tragedies of the past or the worries of the future but the
powerful present where trees grow out of stumps and figs and flowers and fruits
of all kinds are gifts from a God who cares about
you.



Advent is when Kairos and Chronos come together; when the past
triumphs of Jesus the Risen One and the future Reign of the heavenly Christ are
present in your life today – each day. 
So don’t allow yourself to simply live these days of Advent as though
nothing good will happen until we gather around another tree to unwrap gifts
that were placed there after weeks of worrying if those very same gifts were the
right gift for the right person. 
Live today and tomorrow with the confidence of a Child of the Child of
Bethlehem and give yourself as a gift to the world. 
Look for those opportunities to touch the lives of a hurting world with
the gentle grace of the Prince of Peace. 
Seek out LSSI or Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem or Care for Real
or the Salvation Army bucket and give a gift out of your knowledge that Jesus,
the Child of Bethlehem is also your Risen Savior and constant companion.  Live each Advent day, opening up your
life as if you were opening doors on an Advent calendar to see the Light of
Christ shining amid the darkness. 
Live each day of Advent with the confidence of promises fulfilled.  Live out your Advent looking not for
signs of doom and worry but for opportunities to bring your gifts to God’s
people in your family, in your workplace, in your neighborhood, in your
congregation, and in your world. 
Advent challenges us to take the time to know the power and strength of
the Son of Man and to shine Christ’s light through our lives to put out the
darkness.   St. Ambrose of
Milan (whose day we remember this week) wrote this beautiful hymn in the second
century which Martin Luther put to music:

Savior of the nations, come;
Virgin’s son, make here your home.
Marvel now, O heaven and earth;
God has chosen such a birth!

Not by human flesh and blood
But the mystic Breath of God,
Was the Word of God made flesh,
Fruit of woman, blossom fresh

Now your manger, shining bright
Hallows night with newborn light.
Night cannot this light subdue;
Let our faith shine ever new.