December 13, 2009 Des Moines

Advent 3

Luke 3:7-18

“Why Are We Waiting?”

I’ll have to admit, I was more than a bit disheartened and disappointed last Monday night at the Jackson Browne concert at the Civic Center. No, it had nothing to do with the performer. Sure, aging rockers don’t sound quite as good as they used to, and if it sounded like he had starting pitching his songs about a 3^rd lower, well, I would be the first to understand how voices start to sag as much as other aging parts of our bodies.

No, the truth is I was disappointed in the audience – baby boomers almost entirely – it looked like a blue-jean convention – and proud veterans of struggles connected with all manner of “causes” – the civil rights struggle, protests against nuclear weapons; the anti-war movement. So I wasn’t surprised by all the nodding heads signaling enthusiastic agreement and support when Browne introduced a familiar song by dedicating it to the oceans of the globe and all those who are working to save them.

By way of explanation, Browne, himself a fairly high-profile activist over the years, noted how manufacturers have created all these disposable products designed to be used once and then thrown away. The only problem, he observed, is that there is no “away.” All that stuff goes somewhere...and stays there...for millions of years – places like the oceans of the world downstream from virtually everything that scientists have observed are filling up with all of our discarded plastic. It is this ecological problem that has led him to mount a crusade against bottled water which, in addition to costing more than water out of the tap, he pointed out, is often less pure and certainly less regulated than our municipal water supplies, and ultimately results in all these empty plastic bottles living virtually forever in landfills and oceans.

After offering, then, this impassioned plea to his applauding and supportive audience, and after singing that song so beautifully dedicated to our imperiled seas, the lights came on in the auditorium for intermission, revealing fully a quarter of audience members nursing those very plastic disposable water bottles – and not just then; when they returned from intermission as well.

“Oh, man!” I thought, as I comprehended our collective hypocrisy. “So much for heartfelt activism.” So much for the credibility of the fat man holding an opened, half-eaten bag of potato chips, railing against obesity. “You mean we actually have to do something about all this? It isn’t enough to just make speeches, applaud and go home?”

All of which is to observe that we talk a good game, but hopefully no one expects us – or anything else, for that matter – to really change.

My very first published work came when I was in seminary, while I was working as a youth minister on weekends alongside an incredibly creative mentor who brainstormed with me a simulation game called “Romans and Christians.” In the game – a sort of biblical “hide and go seek” – part of the group played the role of Roman soldiers whose job it was to seek out and arrest the other part of the group whose members were busy hiding in their portrayal as persecuted Christians. Ultimately, the point of the game turned around a series of tests to determine whether or not, having been arrested and accused of being a Christian, there was enough evidence against those arrested to convict them.

If a similar game had been underway last Monday night with regard to environmental concern, precious few would have been detained, let alone convicted. Most would have been released on their own recognizance.

That audience, then, and their water bottles -- and how easy it is to advocate a position with your words that you really aren’t willing to live out in your deeds -- were on my mind as I read again this story about John the Baptist and his audience.

According to ancient church tradition, today – the 3^rd Sunday of Advent – has traditionally been known as “Gaudete Sunday;” gaudete being Latin for “rejoice”, after the first word of the biblical introit historically read on this day: Paul’s words reminder to the Philippian Christians to “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say, rejoice.” That’s why the advent wreath has traditionally replaced the 3^rd purple candle – purple being the color of repentance – with this pink one indicating joy. Rejoice, then, the church has tried to remember every year at this time; rejoice in the Lord always. And I get how important is that determination, even – or perhaps especially – in the midst of challenging economic times like these; even in the midst of a deepening winter when seasonal depression can feel epidemic. At a time when exhortations to rejoice can “stick in the craw,” pushing back against the darkness can be sacred, faithful work.

But if today is supposed to be about “rejoicing, “John doesn’t help matters much. Can you even help but laugh while hearing the opening to his “Gaudete Sunday” sermon:

“You brood of vipers!” he cried out to the crowd who had presumably gone out of their way to locate him out in the wilderness in their pursuit of some spiritual affirmation. “Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? ⁸Bear 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. ⁹Even 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.”

Now isn’t that just the holiday spirit that everyone here got out of bed this morning hoping to hear? “Joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart.” But if his language and tone seem a bit harsh and affronting, John at least got everyone’s attention long enough to elicit a pivotal – ultimately essential –question: “what should we do?” Not, “what should we think” or “what should we believe,” but rather “what should we do?”

If they and we are anything like the hypothetically interested fans at the concert last Monday night, the answer is they should nod their heads in faux agreement, unscrew the top off another bottle of water and toast their deep conviction. If, however, their question was asked in earnest; if, deep down, there was in them and is in us some part that conscientiously does want to do a better job of embodying God’s coming reign, then John’s response is important to hear and internalize.

“What, then, should we do?” Despite the season and the approaching holiday and festivities, the “doing” to which John calls us seems to have little to do with commerce, cooking, or cleaning or wrapping. You’ll notice, as well, that the suggestions John makes don’t sound particularly religious – like they would have if he had said something like “go to church every Sunday,” “pray without ceasing,” “buy and read every day the special advent devotional guide,” or “fast every Friday.” Rather, what he talks about sounds on the one hand pretty pedestrian and mundane, and on the other hand staggeringly profound: share with those who have less than they need; reject greed; treat one another with justice and kindness.

It’s interesting to me that none of those instructions has much to do with piety, while all of them have everything to do with community. I wonder when it was that human beings lost track of the understanding that “loving God” and “loving each other” are not separate undertakings? I wonder when it was that we forgot?

Our focus throughout this season is on the difficult work of waiting, and today the question ostensibly is “Why are we Waiting?” A better question, in light of John’s preaching, might be “What is God waiting for?” And the simple answer might be that God is waiting for us to remember.

Compassion, generosity, justice, kindness and joy – at all times, joy. These are the kinds of fruits that God’s taste relishes, and because God will have what God desires, the ax is laid to the root of any tree that doesn’t bear fruit – not, I would clarify, out of anger, but simply out of hunger. “So what must we do?” they asked John in the wilderness.

“Fruit,” he answered in a roundabout way. “Bear holy fruit in passionate community. Bring, in other words, something sweet to the table.”