Good News? -- Third Sunday of Advent

Luke 3:7-18

December 12, 2021

 

            About a thousand years ago now, back when I was serving in my first church as a solo pastor in upstate New York, we came to this particular Sunday in Advent and this particular passage from Luke’s gospel. I wanted to try something different, so I approached a member of the choir who was a very good sport and asked him if I could direct my opening remarks in my sermon to him. He agreed. No problem. I told him that I didn’t want to tell him what I would say, because I wanted the surprise to be genuine, but I also told him – repeatedly – that I meant nothing that I was about to say. I kept assuring him of that.

“I won’t mean it. I promise.”

He just smiled and said, “Go for it.”

In that church the choir loft and the piano were to the left of the pulpit, so I could step away from it and walk over to the choir. This gentleman sat on the side next to me, so he was easy to reach.

At the beginning of the sermon, I went over to him. I patted his arm and gave him a little side hug. Then I took a step back, turned to look at him directly, pointed my finger at him and screamed,

“SINNER!!! Sinner, sinner, sinner, sinner! You. Are. A. Sinner!”

Then, I smiled, walked back to the pulpit, and went on with my sermon. The congregation gasped, and then they laughed, and then they waited to see what I might do next. And I guarantee you, no one nodded off during that worship service, not during the sermon anyway.

I don’t remember anymore what my transition sentence was from my calling my parishioner a sinner to a relatively calm sermon, but I hope I said something like,

“Now that I’ve got your attention.”

I think this second half of this passage from Luke’s gospel would be easier to contend with if John had used that same sentence. If he had just transitioned from calling the people who flocked to him, “You brood of vipers,” to “Look, I just wanted to get your attention. Now, let me tell you about the good news in a reasonable and calm manner. Let’s continue, shall we?”

That version of John the Baptizer seems more like a character out of Downton Abbey than this strange and fiery prophet that comes out of the wilderness to preach the coming of the Messiah. But John was not just trying to get the attention of the people. And unlike me with my parishioner, he meant everything he said. When he called them, “brood of vipers,” he was speaking utterly truthfully. John meant every word he said, and if the people truly wanted to prepare for what was coming, then they needed to repent.

“You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin 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.”

Repentance from the Greek word metanoia means literally to turn around. As I said last week, repentance is about reorienting, turning back toward the Source, getting your priorities straight and in alignment with God’s priorities, not your own. Repentance is not just about saying, “I’m sorry.” And it isn’t about self-flagellation either. It is about changing your ways. It is about doing not just saying. It is about bearing fruit worthy of repentance.

And before the people could even protest that they come from a long line of good people, that they are the children of Abraham, that they have always followed the Law, that they know the commandments by heart, etc., John cuts through that line of thinking too.

“Do not begin 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.”

In other words, its not about your lineage, it’s about how you live. How you treat others. It is about the fruits that you bear. After hearing all this, the people ask,

“What then should we do?”

This is the pertinent question. This is the question of the year! Karoline Lewis, a professor, preacher, and contributor to WorkingPreacher.Org, suggested that this question should be the title of every preacher’s sermon this week – I had already done the bulletin or else it might have been mine – not because it makes for a pithy, cool title, but because it gets to the heart of the matter. John is preaching about repentance. John is calling them to take a long, hard look in the mirror, to be honest with themselves about their own need for repentance. John is calling them to bear fruits worthy of repentance, in other words to lead lives that embody repentance, that embody turning back to God, embody and embrace the reorienting and realigning of their lives to God. All of this begs the question, what then should we do?

First things first. If you have two coats, share your extra one with someone who does not. If you have more food than you need, share your extra with someone who doesn’t.

Tax collectors, those despised ones, who in their work collaborated with the oppressive government, those ones who contributed to the harming of their own people, heard John’s words and in their seeking baptism, asked John,

“Teacher, what should we do?”

What should you do? Collect no more money than what you are supposed to.

And soldiers also asked John, ‘What should we do?”

What should you do? Don’t extort money from people through threats and accusations. Be satisfied with the money you earn.

This sounds simple enough. Just change the way you live out your profession. Yet, think about the repercussions that will be felt if the tax collectors and the soldiers heed John’s words. If even one or two tax collectors do what John tells them to do, others will notice. And on the surface that may not be a good thing. What do you mean that tax collector is only taking what he is supposed to? If he does that and word gets around, then the rest of us will be expected to do the same. There goes our extra income! And what if the big bosses find out? They might think that we’ve been cheating them all this time as well. What if they want more money from us? What if they throw us in jail – or worse – as punishment?

And other soldiers might feel the same. If we stop threatening the people, extorting money through violence and abuse, then maybe the people will think it’s okay to revolt against us? What will we do? What will happen to us?

These answers led the people to wonder and question and speculate about John. Was he the Messiah they had been waiting for, longing for? But John seemed to know what they were thinking, he knew what was in their hearts, and he responded,

“I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

Then our passage wraps up with these words, “So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.”

Good news? It sounds like John came to the people and said, “I’ve got good news and bad news. Lemme tell you the bad new first.” But then he never got around to telling them the good news. This One who is coming will baptize with fire and the Holy Spirit. This One who is coming has his winnowing fork at the ready. You’ve called us a brood of vipers. You’ve told us to bear fruit worthy of repentance. You’ve told us to make changes in our lives that ultimately won’t just affect us but will affect entire systems. And all of this is good news?

If we read on in the next verses, Herod doesn’t seem to think John’s words are good news either. He is ticked off at John for rebuking him for his marriage to his brother’s wife, so he throws John in prison. John’s good news lands him in jail.

It’s tempting to think that none of this is good news. It feels like there is an implied “or else,” at the end of the call to repent. And maybe it is there, maybe this is all about judgment for sins, and fire and brimstone, the kind of stuff that I’ve shied away from over the course of my ministry. But John was not preaching fire and brimstone just for the sake of fire and brimstone. He wasn’t necessarily trying to scare the people into doing the right thing. He was trying to make them understand that repentance plays out in action. Repentance demands making amends. If you are truly sorry for the ways in which you have failed and fallen and sinned, then take a deep, honest look at yourself. Take a long, truthful look at how you treat other people. Then change. Don’t just say, “I’m sorry.” Do better. Be better. Live better.

So, what exactly is the good news here? Is it that we’ve been given a warning to head off the flames of fire licking at our toes? Or is it that the chance to repent is always available to us? Is it that when we hear these words from John every year, in Advent and in Lent, we are reminded that we are never cut off from both our need to repent and the opportunity to repent? Judgment in scripture and the call to repent is not about destruction, cutting down and cutting off; it is about being given another chance to turn around, to choose a different way. It is a reminder that God wants us, longs for us, to choose God, to choose life, to choose abundance, and hope, peace, and yes, joy.

This is Gaudete Sunday. In Latin, the word Gaudete is a command. It is a command to be joyful. This command seems discordant with the words we read from scripture. And do we actually need to be commanded to be joyful? Yet, in a world where everything but joy seems to reign, maybe that is exactly the command we need.

John commanded the people to repent, to bear good fruit. In doing just that, would their lives ultimately be more joyful? I think so. But in order to believe that we have to understand that joy and happiness are not the same thing. Happiness can be fleeting. Happiness can be attached to momentary pleasures. But joy and joyfulness? That runs much deeper. Joy comes from recognizing that at the beginning and at the end, God is with us. At the beginning and at the end, God’s goodness holds fast. At the beginning and at the end, God’s love and faithfulness are sure. To repent, to turn around is to turn from hopelessness to hope, from violence and war to peace, from despair to joy.

Be joyful! Hear this good news! Repent and turn back to God.

May all God’s children do just that, shouting, “Alleluia!”

Amen.