Sermon on Luke 3:7-18
“Be gone you brood of vipers...”
“You call yourselves children of Abraham? Ha! God could use Rocks to make children of Abraham!”
That’s a nice message for Christmas isn’t it?
Nice and hopeful and not too confronting?
I must admit that when I first read today’s Gospel reading that was my initial reaction.
My second thought was, “Isn’t it good that we don’t have a baptism this week?”
Because, on the face of it, when we read and hear these words, it might be hard to hear past the venom, passion and anger that is there.
This week we light our third advent candle which is a sign of love, and yet, finding the love, finding the peace, hope, joy and love in these words is a little bit tricky really.
But it is there.
It just takes a bit of work, is all. This reading is all about Christmas, in an unexpected way.
If we look a little further on we see a Christmas message clear and simple.
When people ask John the Baptist what they should do to be truly repentant his reply is beautifully simple: Share.
If you have a wardrobe full of shirts and you know there are people around you who have none, give them a shirt.
There are people in this world who go hungry each day, too many people, so if you have extra food, food you don’t really need (and lets face it, we do), give some to someone who’s hungry.
This is what John tells us.
Last week I took my kids Callum and Rhiannon shopping with me to buy some food and presents to give to Anglicare. Before we went into the supermarket I explained to Callum what we were doing and why.
The look on his face was priceless.
The idea that there were children in the world, in his city, who didn’t have toys, who wouldn’t have a delicious dinner cooked for them on Christmas day, who wouldn’t wake up to a stocking filled with treats... that idea had never occurred to him.
I think it nearly broke his heart, and his brain. It was a hard thing for him to process.
And then he proceeded to try and buy every item in the supermarket so that no one would ever have to go without again.
John’s message to share with others, to care for others, to not lie, cheat or bully others out of the little they do have, that’s a very Christmassy message and it’s important to be reminded of that at Christmas each year.
It’s good to be reminded that giving is actually really important.
And then John announces something even more important. He tells us that someone is coming who is so wonderful, so great, so extraordinary, that we don’t really deserve to even catch sight of him let alone do the most menial tasks for him.
That’s very exciting. Very Christmas.
Because Christmas isn’t just about a baby’s birth, even if that baby is Jesus. Christmas is, as Paul talked about last week, a journey. It is looking forward and preparing and then walking with Jesus. Christmas, Christ-mass, the celebration of Christ, encompasses the whole Church year: birth, life death, mourning, resurrection, beyond.
That’s Christmas.
That’s what John the Baptist is alluding to.
And so we can begin to see that this passage from Luke’s Gospel is a lot more about love, joy, peace and hope and Christmas than we first thought.
But what about that first bit?
Where’s the Christmas message in that?
Isn’t it a bit confronting for this time of year?
Maybe. But then again, maybe not.
Maybe confronting is what we need.
My son was confronted by the revelation that some people miss out on toys and chocolate and treats and food at Christmas. But it wasn’t a bad thing. It made him sad, yes, but it also fired his passion to change that state of affairs.
To bring Christ into people’s lives.
So. Where’s the love, or the joy, in being called a viper?
What’s Christmassy about having your ancestry shunned?
Well, it gives some perspective I suppose.
We have a tendancy to lament the state of our secular society, don’t we? I read recently that Australia may well be the most secular country on the planet, and I can well believe it.
And at Christmas time we bemoan the state of Christmas: how commercial it is, how no one understands what Christmas is about. Except us.
For we are Christians.
I get the feeling that John the Baptist might say to us, “So what? God could raise up Christians from the pavers on the porch.”
Because it isn’t about the label you hide behind.
It’s about the fruit you bear.
The words you speak, the way you live, the way you love.
It’s hard work.
We have to be like John and ‘prepare the way.’ But we also get to say: “I’m not Christ. I’m not the Messiah and I won’t pretend to be. I’m not perfect. I’m just an ordinary person, pointing the way, sweeping the path, welcoming the guests.
Yes, it’s hard being told that we aren’t more special, more worthy, than other people.
But it’s freeing too.
John the Baptist had found that freedom and he jolts us out of our complacency and apathy. He tells us: don’t just go through the motions, don’t hide behind your label, because someone awesome is coming. Someone magnificent. Someone who is light and love and life. Someone who is truly God, truly human, who will do anything and everything for you, go to death and back for you.
So get excited, spread the word, because someone is coming and he doesn’t have a white beard and a red suit.
When we do this, when we get excited, we see the reason to light those candles - hope, peace, joy, and this week: love.
I’d like to finish with a Christmas poem that my kids have requested I recite at least once a day, every day, since Monday.
I mentioned earlier that Australia is considered one of the most secular nations in the world. One of the ways this is made manifest at Christmas time is in our society’s near worship of Father Christmas/Santa Claus. This poem that I found floating around on Facebook (while it is a bit kitsch) shows that Father Christmas is also a figure pointing the way to Christ.
Santa Claus, Saint Nic, is following John the Baptist’s lead. He’s giving and encouraging us to give. He’s rejoicing and encouraging us to rejoice. We just have to remember is that he points to Christ but definitely is not himself the Messiah.
So, here we go:
On Christmas Eve the other night
I saw the most amazing sight,
for there beneath the Christmas tree
was Santa kneeling on his knee.
His countenance was different than
that all-familiar, jolly grin;
his head was bowed, with hand to breast,
and slightly tucked into his vest.
For there in a nativity
was Jesus and His family,
and as I heard him start to pray
I listened close to what he'd say.
"Lord, You know that You're the reason
I take pleasure in this season.
I don't want to take Your place,
but just reflect Your wondrous grace.
I hope you'll help them understand
I'm just an ordinary man,
who found a way to do Your will
by finding kids with needs to fill.
But all those centuries ago,
there was no way for me to know
that they would make so much of me,
and all the gifts beneath the tree.
They think I have some hidden power
granted at the midnight hour,
but it is my love for You
inspiring the things I do.
And so when they begin to open
gifts for which they have been hoping,
may they give You all the glory,
for You're the One True Christmas story."
So, this Christmas I feel like it might be time to find our passion again, to be just a little bit confronting and a bit like John the Baptist. This year I think it might be time to reclaim Santa Claus, take back the 25th, start a Christmas revolution, and to remind the people around us that someone is coming and that that someone is the greatest gift we have ever and will ever receive.
And, this week, as we light our advent candle for love, to really let our love for Christ inspire what we do and the way we live. To live for Christ on the journey of Christmas.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment