Are you open? Advent 2C, 9 December 2012
Melissa Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
Year C + Advent 2
12.9.12
(Baruch 5:1-9; Canticle
4; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6)
Standing there in the temple, his baby boy is held in his wife’s
arms. The miracle child, that bright
flame who will ignite hearts with the Spirit and with repentance. And someone
nudges him. “What shall we name
him?” And Zechariah, mute for nine long months
(which is a lot for a priest) writes on the tablet… “John.” That simple word of truth, after his doubting
times, breaks through the fog of his mute days and he bursts into song.
“Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, for he has
looked favorably on his people and redeemed them.
He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old… (Luke 1:68-7).
An old priest bursts into song. A Messiah is proclaimed. And then, nearly thirty years later, this same son, matured in his role, bursts forth again, quoting Isaiah… Bursts forth with the good news that salvation is on its way and we must prepare for it.
He has raised up a mighty savior for us in the house of his servant David, as he spoke through the mouth of his holy prophets from of old… (Luke 1:68-7).
An old priest bursts into song. A Messiah is proclaimed. And then, nearly thirty years later, this same son, matured in his role, bursts forth again, quoting Isaiah… Bursts forth with the good news that salvation is on its way and we must prepare for it.
Good news, but not easy news. Not easy, because repentance is required of
all who would meet the Messiah and believe.
Repentance, turning back, turning away from what was, and being baptized
into the new. A commitment is required
of believers to follow and not just to be entranced. To believe the better story, not the easy
one.
Because to believe the story of God is to believe the better story, even if it is not the easy one. Towards the end of the film “Life of Pi,” the protagonist asks the writer he is dictating his story to which version of his story he likes better. The writer says, “The story with the tiger in it. That’s the better story.” “And so it is with God,” says the protagonist.[1] And it almost slips past you, swift, like a tiger on the run. The depth of what he says. But the way I heard it, is in life, we can choose to believe in God and have that wonder, that trust and that rich complexity in our lives. Or we can accept the more rational, scientifically provable and/or less mysterious story that we are fed. But what does that do for us?
In Advent, we choose to live into this story again, remember again that Christ came for us, this improbable story of a son of God actually being born among us. We remember that as Christians we believe something irrational and holy and strange. We hold a mystery.
Because to believe the story of God is to believe the better story, even if it is not the easy one. Towards the end of the film “Life of Pi,” the protagonist asks the writer he is dictating his story to which version of his story he likes better. The writer says, “The story with the tiger in it. That’s the better story.” “And so it is with God,” says the protagonist.[1] And it almost slips past you, swift, like a tiger on the run. The depth of what he says. But the way I heard it, is in life, we can choose to believe in God and have that wonder, that trust and that rich complexity in our lives. Or we can accept the more rational, scientifically provable and/or less mysterious story that we are fed. But what does that do for us?
In Advent, we choose to live into this story again, remember again that Christ came for us, this improbable story of a son of God actually being born among us. We remember that as Christians we believe something irrational and holy and strange. We hold a mystery.
And we see our friends, those who are nominally
Christian but for whom Christmas is mostly about decorations and presents and
rich food (which are fun too but not the main point), and we remember that a
Christmas without Advent, without waiting for the Christ child, is an empty
jingle bells. Prematurely born and made
of plastic is that baby. There is no
real warmth or danger in the tiger’s breath of the real Messiah born among us
when we tame Christmas. Presents are to
be shared, in warmth and joy, but a joy that is fleeting, a goodwill that
expires on December 26th. If
we truly believed in Christmas every day, can you imagine there would be a
hungry person out there come January?
But when the goodwill isn’t God-willed it can’t last all year. We Christians are about trying to live into
that. But we are here, at Advent, always
beginning again, trying to get it right.
So John the Baptist, so many years ago, and
about thirty after his father Zechariah’s song, said… Repent! Turn back! It’s not about what you think is
important. Not about the Jewish-Roman
conflict that happened after John died but before Luke was written, not about
the politics of our era.[2] It’s about what God thinks.
And, as if to prove it, you’re going to meet His Son, because he loved us that much.
He bent the rules of heaven and of earth to send him here to us.
And Advent is when we remember this.
God bent heaven and earth, put us in a boat with the tiger of his real son, the incarnate one, who could have torn us limb from limb because of our sin. But instead… he let us survive. He put us in the boat of this world with our savior, and despite all our sin, we survived.
And, as if to prove it, you’re going to meet His Son, because he loved us that much.
He bent the rules of heaven and of earth to send him here to us.
And Advent is when we remember this.
God bent heaven and earth, put us in a boat with the tiger of his real son, the incarnate one, who could have torn us limb from limb because of our sin. But instead… he let us survive. He put us in the boat of this world with our savior, and despite all our sin, we survived.
God saved us.
God died.
God came alive.
God, in Jesus, is coming back.
Are we open to that? As open as Zechariah’s mouth was when song came out? Are we open like Paul writing the Philippians from prison, bright with joy in the dark cell? Are we open to change and love and transformation, even if that encounter makes us fearful and makes us turn back to what matters to God? Are you open to that?
God, in Jesus, is coming back.
Are we open to that? As open as Zechariah’s mouth was when song came out? Are we open like Paul writing the Philippians from prison, bright with joy in the dark cell? Are we open to change and love and transformation, even if that encounter makes us fearful and makes us turn back to what matters to God? Are you open to that?
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