Rector's Sermon - Sunday, December 16, 2001

First Reading	Epistle	Gospel
Isaiah 35:1-10	James 5:7-10	Matthew 11:2-11

      There is an old Jewish folk tale about a shepherd who went out searching for a missing lamb and in the process became lost himself and separated from the rest of his companions. The pastures were relatively fresh and unfamiliar, so he realized that the trail he followed might also lead him into the territory of a hostile clan. As the shadows of evening were descending, suddenly there was what appeared to be a giant of a man ahead in the narrow mountain pass. There was no escape. The giant spotted him and his gestures became agitated. Fear came over the shepherd as the giant stranger closed in. Yet as they came closer to each other, the giant's figure shrunk to normal size. Closer still, he was even a little smaller than the shepherd. Perhaps he was frightened, too. Then as they were almost within shouting distance, the shepherd noticed that it was his brother, his own little brother who had come out to search for him.

      The Gospel lesson for today takes place years after Jesus was born. Jesus is just beginning his ministry and John the Baptist is concluding his. John is in prison and has doubts. Was his ministry from God? Was his message for repentance and preparation for God's mission of blessing genuine, or was he mistaken about his call after all? They are questions we all ask at one time or another about our faith. It is noteworthy that Jesus does not rebuke or belittle John for his doubt, but seeks to assure him. Jesus goes on to offer John more signs of change in the wind, signs that God has not abandoned the world or given up on offering fresh universal possibilities of a transformed humanity.

      Jesus confirms the mission of John by asking, "What did you go out to see when you went to John the Baptist? What did you expect; what did you hope for? Did you want someone just to conform to your own narrow sight and fail to stretch you and offer you no new bold horizons? Did you want someone who would be powerful or rich enough simply to satisfy your desires of the day or did you go to see a prophet, someone who would offer you a vision of blessing to all flesh?"

      This whole passage is a disconcerting juxtaposition of time. As we look forward to greeting Jesus' birth, we read about Jesus asking his disciples about what they thought about John the Baptist. Yet we are really being asked, in this advent, what do we hope for, what do we expect to find, what do we search for in Jesus birth.

      Last Sunday the reading from the prophet Isaiah presented a very different future world where the wolf would lie down with the lamb and the lion with the calf. This week Isaiah continues to describe a world dramatically reversed from the way things are now. Barren land will blossom; the blind, see, the lame, walk; sand dunes will become a pool of water. These aren't meant as descriptions of a changed biological nature. They are about totally transformed relationships.

      I wonder if Dickens' Christmas Carol is not a paraphrase of this portion of Isaiah. For the true change in Ebenezer Scrooge wasn't in past regret for his stinginess and in a new found generosity; it was about seeing people not as potential monsters, but as brothers and sisters. It was about the total reversal of perception of past relationships. Ghosts came back from the dead to bring Scrooge back to life. From being a lonely orphan, Scrooge becomes a loved uncle. From being an ogre, Scrooge becomes a second father to Tiny Tim. Scrooge discovers he has a family. That's what happens when Isaiah's vision for humanity is realized.

      Often, especially as we get older, we anticipate Christmas with a premonition of dread. Today, Jesus' questions could not have come at a better time. What are we preparing for, what do we expect to find? Do we initially fear a monster, a giant, or a ghost to haunt us and do us harm? Advent is a season of reversals when the usual and cruel ways of the world are questioned, rearranged, or overturned. Christmas always involves moving and closing the distance between us and hope. Keep moving, Advent encourages us, keep moving so that in a time ahead, you may discover a friend, a sister, or a brother in place of an enemy, a stranger, or a ghost.

      
      And I offer this to you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen