Trinity Parish Church - Advent 2 - December 9, 2007

Matthew 3:1-12

The Rev. Rachel Endicott

This morning, we started our worship together with the hopeful words of the collect - that short prayer at the beginning of the service - that "we may greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer".  But by our reading of the Gospel lesson from Matthew just a moment ago, we came across John calling those religious people who came to him a "brood of vipers" and warning them to "bear fruit worthy of repentance."

So, you might wonder as we read the passages in Advent, is this a time of hope, wondering, waiting?  Alternatively, is this a time of being warned about what we do and what we have not done?  Yes, and yes.

I just love those words that we may "greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer".  We wait.  We are eager.  In early September 2001, my ex-husband took our children Ben and Megan with him to visit relatives in California.  They flew down for a long weekend visit, planning to climb back aboard a return flight mid-morning on September 11^th.  As you all know, there was no flight on that day to bring them back from their visit.  They did not return the following day or the day after.  Finally, flights resumed and they were able to get places on a plane arriving late in the evening on that Friday night.  At the airport, I waited with eager eyes to see my children, so wanting to be in their presence and to celebrate being back together again.

And so it is for many at airports.  Individuals are full of eager anticipation to "greet with joy" friends or family members away for a while or perhaps years.  Restrained kisses on cheeks or lips are given.  Big bear hugs show up for some folks.  Radiant smiles float across barriers.  And the joy is infectious.  At one point when I used to travel more for business, I spent lots of time in airports - at the time when people could actually meet at the gates.  And I used to find myself smiling even as other folks greeted one-another.

Outside of today's Bible readings, we have two wonderful stories that capture this sense of "greeting with joy".  At the beginning of the Gospel of Luke, we find the story of Mary and Elizabeth.  We're told that Mary goes to see Elizabeth.  But it isn't sort of an ambling, cautious meeting between one quite pregnant woman and one who has just found out about her very unexpected pregnancy.  We're told that Mary goes meta spoudes, with haste, to visit Elizabeth.  And the meeting has layers of joy built upon one another.

Further on in Luke, in Chapter 15, we find the lost son returning to his father.  He is starving, hoping upon hope that his father will take him in even as a hired hand for the household.  But we're told that the father doesn't simply acknowledge the return of his son.  Rather the text of the story tells us that while the son was still far off, his father spied him, "ran and put his arms around him and kissed him."

And so we find this sense of this joyful anticipation, the anticipation we bring to our celebration of God becoming one of us, of Jesus' birth.  And, yes, our prayer makes clear it is also the appropriate posture as we wait for Jesus' second coming.  The prayer doesn't differentiate between our response to Jesus' birth in Bethlehem and his coming in glory at the second coming.  We are to greet with joy the coming of Jesus Christ our Redeemer whenever that time shall be, if indeed in our lifetimes.

But what about the not so joyful part, being insulted - by association - with those called a brood of vipers?

In my mind, this is a reminder that we are to consider with all depth that which we do.  Are we bearing the fruit of one who has been redeemed?  Do we use the blessings and resources that we've been given for the good of the world?  Are we careful stewards with that which we have been entrusted: our own resources, the good earth, and the many, many opportunities put before us?

The upswing of John's not so gentle critique is that there are always opportunities for change.  Those to whom John is most kind are the ones coming to be baptized and confessing their sins.  I take this outward and visible sign of baptism on their parts to be a change of heart.  I take it to mean that they plan to do things differently, that they do indeed hope to live into God's plan for them.

How might you and I live into God's plan?  For each one of us, it might be different.

-         Are there people to whom you might want to build bridges this Advent, do something more than just send an annual Christmas card?

-         Are you being called to leave what is the past to God and anticipate the future?

-         Are you called to preach repentance like John?

-         Are you to meet an angel - a messenger of God - during these weeks?

-         Are you to seek our Lord among the hungry and homeless?

For many of us, change is challenging.  First, who likes to change at the urging of a mad man who calls others vipers?  Secondly, although we know God calls us into new places, those places can be places of fear.  Think of Mary...it's no wonder the angel says not to fear on the angel's visit.  And lastly, we don't always clearly see to where we are called to go.

I want to leave you with a thought as we're called to soar through Advent in anticipation of the coming of our Lord at Christmas.  I'll borrow an illustration from a sermon preached by Terry Fullham.  He talked about eagles.  "Fullham said that mother eagles stand on the edge of their nests.  Then, at the appropriate moment in the life of their young, they begin to destroy those very nests.  They pull out the feathers and leaves and twigs that have served as the foundation of the nest and fling them into the air.  The young eagles, of course, look aghast at what their mothers are doing.  But the mothers pay no attention.  They continue to excavate the interior of the nest, eventually pulling it apart.  To their disbelief, the young eagles watch their worldly security crumble around them.  Do these mothers not love their young?  Of course they do.  But they understand something that their offspring do not: eagles were not made to perch in a nest.  They were made to soar.  And they will never take to life on the wing unless they are taught this lesson in a no-holds barred manner."¹

So John comes with no-holds barred.  He reminds us that we are called to repentance and to bear fruit.   It is only then that we may fully greet with joy our Lord.

Amen.

¹ Terry Fullham, "Life on Wings" as quoted by H. King Oehmig, Synthesis, December 9, 2007, p. 4.