Lectionary 15B

Marcos 6:14-19

I preached this sermon in the Spanish service; the English translation is below.

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean aceptables a tu vista, Seño, nuestra fuerza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

Nuestro evangelio de hoy es la mitad de lo que se conoce en los estudios bíblicos como un "sándwich de Marcos". Se llama así porque Marcos pone una historia no relacionada entre dos mitades de otra historia, como la carne entre dos piezas de pan.

Inmediatamente antes del evangelio de hoy, Jesús envió a los discípulos a expulsar a los demonios y sanar a los enfermos. E inmediatamente después de estos versículos, los discípulos regresarán y le dirán a Jesús todo lo que han hecho.

Mientras tanto, Marcos nos dice que Herodes ha escuchado lo que Jesús y sus seguidores están haciendo, y que cuando Herodes escuchó sobre Jesús, pensó que Juan [el bautista] a quien había decapitado había sido resucitado de entre los muertos.

En las Escrituras tenemos historias que han sido etiquetadas como "Textos de terror".

Algunos de estos aparecen en nuestras lecturas leccionarias, mientras que otros no. Hace cuarenta años, la teóloga y autora Phyllis Trible escribió sobre cuatro de estas historias que se centraron en la violencia contra las mujeres. En términos más generales, la categoría incluye aquellas como nuestro Evangelio de hoy, historias de abuso y explotación, historias donde los poderosos y con poder oprimen la justicia. Las historias nos recuerdan humildemente que el reino de Dios es ahora y aún no. Reflexionando sobre estos textos, un autor escribió,

[Historias tristes] nos obligan a luchar con el mundo como es el mundo, con Dios como es Dios, y con la Biblia como es la Biblia, no como deseamos que fueran.ⁱ

Después de que Marcos nos dice que Herodes cree que Juan el Bautista ha sido resucitado de entre los muertos, escuchamos cómo murió Juan.

Juan se metió en problemas con Herodes porque llamó a una cosa lo que era. La esposa de Herodes estaba enojada con Juan porque había criticado a Herodes por casarse con ella cuando ella era la esposa de su hermano.

Un predicador bromeó que Juan debe haber sido luterano; En su disputa de Heidelberg, Martin Luther escribió: “Una teología de la gloria llama al mal bien y al bien mal. Una teología de la cruz llama a la cosa lo que realmente es ". Cuando seguimos a Jesús, no podemos equivocarnos cuando nos enfrentamos al bien y al mal; [Debemos] llamar a la cosa lo que es. ⁱⁱ

Para apaciguar a su esposa, Herodes había arrestado a Juan, pero Herodes se negó a matarlo. Marcos dice que "Herodes temía a Juan, sabiendo que era un hombre justo y santo". (6:20)

Pero lamentablemente, la justicia y la santidad de Juan no lo mantuvieron vivo.

Lo que quizás no reconocemos, pero seguramente los oyentes de Marcos sabían, es que estas son las mismas palabras que escuchamos al rey decir a Ester en su historia. (Esther 5: 3)

El Libro de Ester no aparece a menudo en el Leccionario; Solo hay un domingo cada tres años cuando escuchamos su historia, por lo que puede no ser familiar, pero hay similitudes con la historia de Herodes y Juan. En la historia de Ester, el rey tenía un banquete, y Ester se unió a las otras mujeres jóvenes en el palacio mientras el rey buscaba a una nueva esposa. Cuando el rey conoció a Ester, él estaba contento, y ella se convirtió en la nueva reina. Más tarde, uno de sus oficiales, sin saber que Ester era judía, conspiro para matar a todo el pueblo judío.

Pronto Ester tuvo la oportunidad de aparecer ante el rey y fue entonces cuando el rey le dijo a Ester: “¿Qué pasa, reina Ester? ¿Cuál es tu solicitud? Se te dará, incluso la mitad de mi reino ". (Esther 5: 3)

Pero las similitudes terminan ahí.

La reina Esther hizo una súplica compasiva por la seguridad de su gente; en contraste, la hija de Herodes fue a su madre para averiguar qué debía pedir, y decidieron que pediría la cabeza de Juan el Bautista.

Y Marcos nos dice: “El rey estaba profundamente afligido; Sin embargo, por respeto a sus juramentos y por los invitados, no quería rechazarla”. (6:26)

Entonces, Herodes mata a Juan y entrega su cabeza sobre un plato a su hija.

Me pregunto si podemos relacionarnos con la lucha que enfrentó Herodes. Sabemos que todos pecamos y tomamos decisiones que nos alejan de Dios.

Herodes quería cumplir su promesa, tan imprudente como era. Tenía miedo de parecer débil frente a las personas sobre las que disfrutaba tener poder. Tenía miedo de decepcionar a su hija y su esposa. Y así, sacrificó a un ser humano, incluso cuando sabía que Juan era justo y santo s y las acciones de Herodes le causaron dolor.

Me pregunto

lo que sacrificamos para mantener las apariencias;

Me pregunto

cuando tomamos una decisión sabiendo que alguien más pagara  el costo, y no nosotros;

Me pregunto

qué acciones hemos tomado que lamentamos.

Un ejemplo en el que pienso es en nuestro cuidado por la creación. Está lleno de opciones que se hacen más fáciles porque probablemente no viviremos para ver las consecuencias:

regando césped en el calor del verano en lugar de dejar que se vuelvan cafés;

utilizando plásticos de un solo uso por conveniencia, incluso cuando estamos aprendiendo más sobre los micro plásticos en nuestros océanos y vías fluviales;

rociando pesticidas y herbicidas que matan a las plantas polinizandas y amenazan las abejas.

Hay muchas maneras de elegir de manera diferente para mantener la buena creación de Dios, pero a menudo no lo hacemos. O al menos no lo hago.

La buena noticia es que en la familia de Dios, se nos dan alternativas a lo que ofrece el mundo.

Creemos que "[Dios] me defiende contra todo el peligro y los guardias y me protege de todo mal". Y que el Espíritu Santo nos santifica y nos hace santos, "iluminados con los dones de Dios". ⁱⁱⁱ Pero debemos detenernos y escuchar la guía de Dios antes de actuar.
Cuando contrastamos el reino de Herodes con el reino de Dios, podemos ver que Herodes vivió en un reino romano basado en quid pro quo, donde hago algo por ti, y luego haces algo por mí, pero el reino de Dios se basa en Gracia solamente.

Por la gracia de Dios, el favor que no merecemos  de Dios, dado libremente a nosotros y para nosotros, somos adoptados en la familia de Dios y hechos hijos de Dios. Ninguna otra relación o identidad es más importante que esa.

Y, como dijo otro predicador, "[en gracia] lo que nos entregó no es la cabeza de Juan en un plato, sino el propio cuerpo y sangre de Cristo", dada y derramada por nosotros, para que pudiéramos tener vida eterna.

En Cristo, tenemos la libertad de elegir vivir primero para el reino de Dios y no por nuestras propias prioridades, y estar motivados por el amor y no por el miedo mientras vivimos nuestra fe en el mundo.

Gracias a Dios.

Amén.

Mark 6:14-29

Our gospel today is the middle of what’s known in biblical studies as a “Markan sandwich”. It’s called that because Mark puts one unrelated story between two halves of another story, like meat between two pieces of bread.

Immediately before today’s gospel, Jesus sent the disciples out to cast out demons and heal the sick. And immediately after these verses, the disciples will return and tell Jesus all that they have done.

Meanwhile, Mark tells us that Herod has heard what Jesus and his followers are doing, and that when Herod heard about Jesus, he thought that John [ the Baptist] whom he had beheaded had been raised from the dead.

In Scripture we have stories that have been labeled “texts of terror”.

Some of these show up in our lectionary readings, while others don’t. Forty years ago, theologian and author Phyllis Trible wrote about four of these stories that were all centered on violence against women. More broadly, the category includes ones like our gospel today, stories of abuse and exploitation, stories where the mighty and powerful oppress justice. The stories humbly remind us that God’s kingdom is both now and not yet. Reflecting on these texts, one author wrote,

[Sad stories] force us to wrestle with the world as the world is, with God as God is, and with the Bible as the Bible is – not as we wish those things would be.[i]

After Mark tells us that Herod thinks John the Baptist has been raised from the dead, we hear how John died.

John got in trouble with Herod because he called a thing what it was. Herod’s wife was angry with John because he had criticized Herod for marrying her when she was his brother’s wife.

One preacher joked that John must have been Lutheran; in his Heidelberg Disputation, Martin Luther wrote, “A theology of glory calls evil good and good evil. A theology of the cross calls the thing what it actually is.” When we follow Jesus, [we] cannot equivocate when faced with good and evil; [we] must call a thing what it is.[ii]

To appease his wife, Herod had arrested John, but Herod refused to kill him. Mark says that “Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man.” (6:20)

But sadly, John’s righteousness and holiness did not keep him alive.

There was a party, a banquet, for Herod’s birthday, and Mark tells us his daughter came and danced for Herod and the political and religious leaders who were there. And Herod was so pleased that he said to the girl,

“Whatever you ask of me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” (6:23)

What we might not recognize, but surely Mark’s listeners would have known, is that these are the same words that we hear the king say to Esther in her story. (Esther 5:3)

The book of Esther doesn’t appear often in the lectionary; there’s only one Sunday every three years when we hear her story, so it may not be familiar, but there are similarities with the story of Herod and John. In Esther’s story, the king had a banquet, and Esther joined the other young women at the palace while the king searched a for a new wife. When the king met Esther, he was pleased, and she became the new queen. Later, one of his officers, not knowing that Esther was Jewish, plotted to kill all the Jewish people.

Soon Esther had an opportunity to appear before the king and it was then that the king said to Esther, “What is it, Queen Esther? What is your request? It shall be given you, even to the half of my kingdom.” (Esther 5:3)

But the similarities end there.

Queen Esther made a compassionate plea for the safety of her people; in contrast, Herod’s daughter went to her mother to find out what she should ask for, and they decided she would ask for the head of John the Baptist.

And Mark tells us, “The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her.” (6:26)

So, Herod kills John and delivers his head on a platter to his daughter.

I wonder if we can relate to the struggle that Herod faced. We know that we all sin and make decisions that turn us away from God.

Herod wanted to follow through on his promise, as reckless as it was. He was afraid of appearing weak in front of the people over whom he enjoyed having power. He was afraid of disappointing his daughter and his wife. And so, he sacrificed a human being, even when he knew John was righteous and holy and Herod’s actions caused him grief.

I wonder

what we sacrifice to keep up appearances;

I wonder

when we make a choice knowing that someone else will bear the cost, and not us;

I wonder

what actions we’ve taken that we grieve.

One example I think about is our care for creation. It’s full of choices that are made easier because we likely won’t live to see the consequences:

watering grass lawns in the summer heat instead of letting them turn brown;

using single-use plastics for the convenience even as we are learning more about microplastics in our oceans and waterways;

spraying pesticides and herbicides that kill off pollinating plants and threaten the honeybees.

There are so many ways we could choose differently to uphold God’s good creation, but often we don’t. Or at least I don’t.

The good news is that in the family of God, we are given alternatives to what the world offers.

We believe “[God] defends me against all danger and guards and protects me from all evil.” And that the Holy Spirit sanctifies us and makes us holy, “enlightened with God’s gifts”.[iii] But we must stop and listen for God’s guiding before we act.

When we contrast the kingdom of Herod with the kingdom of God, we can see that Herod lived in a Roman kingdom based in quid pro quo – where I do something for you, and then you do something for me – but God’s kingdom is based on grace alone.

By God’s grace - God’s unmerited favor, freely given to us and for us - we are adopted into God’s family and made children of God. No other relationship or identity is more important than that one.

And, as another preacher said, “[in grace] what’s handed to us is not John’s head on a platter, but Christ’s own body and blood”, given and poured out for us, that we might have eternal life.

In Christ, we have the freedom to choose to live first for God’s kingdom and not our own priorities, and to be motivated by love and not by fear as we live out our faith in the world. 

Thanks be to God.

Amen.

---

[i] Paul Anthony. “A Brief Review: Texts of Terror  by Phyllis Trible”. https://disorientedtheology.wordpress.com/2018/09/05/a-brief-review-texts-of-terror-by-phyllis-trible/ , accessed 7/13/2024

[ii] Cameron Howard. “Calling a Thing What It Actually Is.” https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/calling-a-thing-what-it-actually-is , accessed 7/13/2024

[iii] Luther’s Small Catechism

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost / Lectionary 18A

Matthew 14:13-21

I’ve been preaching on Paul’s letter to the Romans for most of the summer, so I want to take a minute now to re-orient ourselves to the gospel narrative that leads up to today’s reading from Matthew. Jesus has been traveling and teaching, both with his disciples and with great crowds. He has been teaching in stories, or parables, about the kingdom of heaven, comparing it to a mustard seed, seeds sown in different soils, a field where both weeds and wheat grow and then to yeast mixed into unleavened dough, a hidden treasure, a pearl of great value and a fisherman’s net filled with fish of every kind.

And while he has been teaching, his cousin John has been imprisoned by Herod. And now word has come to Jesus that John has been executed, beheaded, and is dead. That is where we are when we enter today’s text which has Jesus going off to a deserted place by himself.

You can probably imagine a time when you heard the news of a death of someone you loved and recall the emotional and physical exhaustion that accompanies grief. That is where Jesus was when we encounter him in this text.

And yet, when Jesus saw the crowds following him, he didn’t send them away. Instead, Matthew says he had compassion for them and he cured their sick. (v. 14)

Maybe Jesus recognized that they weren’t trying to be a nuisance or just tagging along because they could. They were hungry, for healing and for food. And those hungers were worth the risk of being identified as followers of Jesus,

whose coming had been proclaimed by his cousin,
who had now been killed by the state.

We don’t experience the kind of persecution that Christians experienced in the first century so it’s easy for us to underestimate the cost of following Jesus. In the hills and valleys of Israel, his followers would have been exposed and visible.

But their desire to draw near to Jesus and satisfy their hungers were greater than any fears they may have had about being singled out as a follower of the King of the Jews or seen by Roman soldiers as traitors to the empire.

While the historical context of this passage is important, often a sermon will focus on the wondrous multiplication of loaves and fish that made it possible to feed thousands of people.

But what stood out to me in this morning’s Gospel wasn’t the feeding of the crowds, or even the earlier healings, as miraculous as those events were. What stood out to me was Jesus’ instructions to his disciples.

The disciples had noticed the time and knew it would soon be suppertime. They didn’t have enough to satisfy the crowd, so they went to Jesus and telling him about their meager fish and loaves of bread, they suggested he send the people away that they might find provisions for themselves.

They weren’t being callous. Just practical. And perhaps they were protective of Jesus. Do you remember how the day had begun? With the news of his cousin’s brutal death? If he had sent the crowds away, do you think anyone would have said he hadn’t done enough?

But, he didn’t send them away. Instead, looking at the meager loaves and fish, Jesus tells the disciples, “Bring them here to me.” And he blesses them, breaks them and gives them out to all who hunger, and they are satisfied.

There is a church in Israel where it’s believed this story happened. And in that church there’s a mosaic that has an image of two fish and a basket with four loaves in it. When a visitor asked where the fifth loaf was, the reply was, “On the altar of every church across the world.”

Discipleship is never centered on us as disciples, or what we can do. Following Jesus is always about what God is doing. God is always the actor. And God is always bigger than we can imagine or understand.

The Good News is that we are invited to bring all of our broken bits and pieces to God.

“Bring them to me.”

The broken relationships. “Bring them to me.”

The disappointments and half-finished projects and forgotten promises. “Bring them to me.”

The hurts that we have caused others or inflicted on ourselves. “Bring them to me.”

The fears, insecurities and grief. “Bring them to me.”

God doesn’t care how meager these bits and pieces seem, or how little value you think they have. Bring them to God and ask God to use them for God’s kingdom and wait expectantly for what God will do.

Out of these broken bits and pieces, God fashions us into God’s people and puts us to work in the kingdom of heaven, where God not only fills empty, rumbling tummies but satisfies the hunger in our lives for a Savior, Redeemer and Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Third Sunday of Advent

Matthew 11:2-11

We have jumped ahead again in Matthew’s gospel and now the son of Elizabeth and Zechariah, the cousin of Jesus called John, the same John who had baptized Jesus in the river Jordan is in prison. And Matthew tells us he has heard what the Messiah – the Christ, the Anointed One – has been doing and now he is sending his disciples to talk to Jesus.

Do you ever wonder what John heard? Had he caught snippets of conversations between the guards at the castle, like a game of telephone where the words become garbled and the message confused, or had friendly fishermen embellished the stories, so that they took on mythic proportions?

I like to imagine that faithful people found a way to get word to John that all he had foretold was now taking place. The crowds who had witnessed the sermon on the mount were now repeating it from memory. And others were rejoicing that Jesus not only healed a leper and the demoniac, but also a Roman centurion’s servant and a hemorrhaging woman. And, I can hear their excited whispers, had John heard that Jesus had opened the eyes of the blind?

We can’t know how John heard what was happening some ninety miles north of him in Galilee. But somehow word of what Jesus was saying and doing had reached his cousin and now he sends his own disciples to Jesus to talk with him.

Sometimes when we hear the question asked by John’s disciples, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?” we hear doubt. Maybe they thought the expected Messiah would come with more fury, that Rome would be vanquished immediately, or the kings and emperors would be brought low. Maybe they though the least this supposed Savior could do was to get his cousin out of prison.

But in his sermon on this text, Martin Luther preached that John wasn’t in doubt; after all we know from all four gospels that he recognized Jesus as the Christ, he baptized him, saw the Spirit descend upon him in bodily form like a dove, and heard God say, “This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.”[i]

John is like Moses, standing on top of Pisgah, opposite Jericho. (Deut. 34:1) Standing in his prison cell, unable to go where Jesus is going, John points to Him as the One to follow.

John asked his question on behalf of his disciples who did not yet see Jesus as the Christ. Sending them to encounter Jesus face to face, he knows they will witness the transformation that is taking place as Jesus ministers and teaches, heals and saves.

During this season of Advent, we find ourselves traveling with these other disciples, waiting for the One who has already come. We catch glimpses of the Kingdom that is promised, and we hear stories of thanksgiving and praise, gratitude and joy. But we also see the suffering around us and in the world and we wonder where the balm is.

The Good News is that Jesus doesn’t respond with ridicule or contempt or send the questioning disciples away. Instead, Jesus invites them into the reign of God that is happening, asking them,

“What did you expect to see?”

Our expectations can keep us from seeing what is happening.

Our lives are laden with expectations. And in these weeks leading up to Christmas, it can feel like there isn’t any time to wait or any time to watch. It can feel like you are just hurtling from one event to the next and any kind of Advent practice of preparing for the Messiah can feel like one more thing that has to be done before you can rest. We hear and see these unrealistic expectations in commercials and stores and in tv, movies and songs, or we place them on ourselves to continue traditions and rituals that we remember from childhood. And the expectations conflict with one another. Be still but light the Advent wreath and open a new square on the Advent calendar every day. Remember Jesus is the reason for the season but also remember to buy presents for your favorite people. Jesus gives us permission to name the expectations we have put on ourselves or we have picked up from others and discard the ones that keep us from seeing Jesus transforming the world around us.

Christ calls us to open our eyes to see the world anew, alert to what God is doing. Who is being set free from burdens? Where is healing taking place? Where is good news being shared?

This past week the local paper ran a story on the Totally Free Clothes Store, which is over on Warren Street. A local attorney took space he had in his office and transformed it into a place where people can get donated clothing. He doesn’t ask them for ID or to prove they’re deserving. He is adamant that “people deserve clothes every day of the year.” The naked are clothed.

Last week several of our women went Christmas shopping for the holiday backpacks for Graham School students. They bought board games, make your own ornaments and Christmas candy to put together gift bags and included the cards you gave, too. The gifts went to all of the students who rely on the backpacks to have access to food when they’re not in school. The hungry are fed.

And on Wednesday another group from our congregation collected all the body wash and washcloths and razors we donated for Heritage Oaks and put them in packages. Those items will be delivered this week and the people will be reminded of the Good News that they are not alone in this world, but are loved by God and by their siblings in Christ.

This Advent, may we let go of expectations that keep us from seeing Jesus in the world around us, and meeting Jesus in our own lives, may we be transformed.

[i] Martin Luther. “Christ's Answer to John The Baptist.” http://web.archive.org/web/20021220115716/www.markers.com/ink/mljblg.htm, accessed 12/13/2019.

Second Sunday of Advent

Matthew 3:1-12

Preparing to preach on today’s gospel, one pastor described John the Baptist’s appearance as crashing the Christmas party. Setting aside the anachronisms, it does feel a little like that. Hearing this text on the second Sunday of Advent, when we are celebrating hope, peace, joy and love, and especially here at Ascension when we are hanging the green in the sanctuary, John’s call to repentance hits us like a bucket of cold water.

Instead of appearing on the streets of Jerusalem or in the temple, John draws people out of their familiar surroundings to come and see him in the stark and barren wilderness of the desert.

The gospel writer tells us that “the people of Jerusalem and all of Judea” came to see him and while that was likely an exaggeration, the account of John’s appearance shows up in all four gospels, so there is no doubt that it was significant.

The gospel tells us that the people were confessing their sins to him and he was baptizing them in the river Jordan.

But it’s the words that the prophet Isaiah that describe John that caught my attention today. In Chapter 57 of the book of Isaiah it says, “And it shall be said, Build up, build up, prepare the way. Remove every obstacle out of the way of my people.” (v.14)

Prepare the way.

Eugene Peterson in his paraphrase of the Matthean text says, “Prepare for God’s arrival.”

So instead of a party crasher, I think John is actually the party planner.

As we adorn this sanctuary with the evergreens and bells, candles and ornaments, he invites us to prepare the way not only for our celebration of Christmas in a few weeks, but, as disciples, for God’s arrival, for the kingdom come on earth.

We are here to prepare the way, to remove the obstacles and repent of our sin, to clear the way that others may see God’s love, and to make space for God in our lives.

Repenting of our sin isn’t just about us naming our failures and trying to do better. It isn’t the result of earnest, self-directed soul searching. In Scripture God is always the actor, and we respond to what God is doing. Repentance, then, is “inviting God to do what we can’t do ourselves.”[i] It is inviting God to lead us in changing not only how we act and what we believe, but who we are.

Clearing the way for others to see God’s love means getting out of the way. Church hurt is real; there are congregations and people who cause harm in God’s name. Don’t do that! Clearing the way may mean welcoming people as they are, even when they don’t look or smell or talk like you. It’s recognizing that a church is a strange place on Sunday morning, with a lot of unfamiliar words and people up here in the chancel dressed oddly, and we don’t learn how to read a hymnal, say the creed or even pray anywhere else. It takes courage to be in this space, and be open to listening to God.

Making space for God in our own lives, in a time of year that is so full, may be the biggest challenge. But John invites us to get out of what is familiar, and go someplace, stripped of distractions and advertisements shouting at us, and listen for God’s Word.

That’s what we see happening at the river with John. The people make their way to the river where they hear God speaking through him and respond with repentance.

In our text in verse 11, John says, “I baptize you with water for repentance , but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me.” Peterson’s paraphrase is, “I'm baptizing you here in the river, turning your old life in for a kingdom life. The real action comes next.”

The action that we anticipate is not ours, but God’s. God ignites the kingdom life within us and God changes us from the inside out. (v. 12)

Let us prepare the way. Amen.

[i] Brian Stoffregen, “Exegetical Notes for Epiphany 3B.”

Third Sunday of Advent

Luke 3:7-18

On Tuesday night I went to a yoga class and heard the instructor tell us several times, “Keep your eyes open.” That was new to me, and I thought, “Oh, ok. There must be some deep, philosophical reason we keep our eyes open. Something about remaining alert to movement or body awareness.”

After class, I asked someone, “Why did he tell us to keep our eyes open?” and she said, “Because you’re less likely to fall.” I laughed at myself because I had made it so much more complicated than it was. The teacher’s instruction was simple and practical – “Keep your eyes open so you don’t fall!”

As we hear John the Baptiser proclaiming his message of repentance in today’s gospel, it’s easy to hear his instruction to repent, and then wonder, like the people around him, “What then shall we do?”

After all, repentance is one of those church-y words that we don’t hear other places, so it can sound strange to our ears. It must be complicated, right?

But John’s answer to the crowds, the tax collectors and the soldiers is very simple and practical –
make sure no one is naked or hungry;
don’t exploit or bully people you encounter.

Repentance involves turning away from ourselves and toward others.

I hear John’s instruction echoed in Martin Luther’s explanation of the commandments that he writes in his Small Catechism; there as he explains the seventh commandment not to steal, he writes, “We should fear and love God that we may not take our neighbor's money or property, nor get them by false dealing, but help him to improve and protect his property and business.

Repentance doesn’t earn our salvation, God’s love or relationship with us; it is our response to God’s redeeming love and steadfast presence in our lives.

It is action or activity that is grounded in servanthood or service to others. Turning away from ourselves, our egos and self-interest, we see how we can live in service to others in our everyday lives.

So, a life lived in repentance doesn’t have to mean you are sitting like Jonah in sackcloth and ashes;[i]
it is the caregiver who sleeps lightly, listening for a cry for help or comfort from their charge;
it is the friend who calls to check to make sure you have what you need before the storm;
it is the volunteers working at odd hours and in raw temperatures to get us ready for Sunday morning;
and it is all of you collecting socks to keep our neighbors warm this winter.

On this third Sunday of Advent, John’s words call us to a life of active and vibrant faith that we live out in community. Not with perfection, but with repentance and with the redeeming grace that God provides us all.

Let us pray…[ii]
Holy and Redeeming God,
We give you thanks that you come to baptise us in your Spirit and fire, renewing us in love and banishing our fear,
so that we might praise your name forever
and draw freely from the well of your salvation.
Amen.

[i] Jonah 3:6
[ii] “Short Preface, Third Sunday in Advent”, Laughing Bird Liturgy, http://laughingbird.net/ComingWeeks.html,  accessed 12/15/18