The Third Sunday of Advent

Yesterday there was a yet another tragic mass shooting at Brown University. I learned after this sermon that there was also another mass killing in Australia. The Bishop of Rhode Island sent an email to clergy which is where we began our worship – his email was also before we learned of what happened in Australia. Here is what he sent and I read as we lit the third candle on our Advent wreaths.

As we gather today, following a mass shooting event in Providence late yesterday afternoon, I ask that we pray for all the victims of this violence, all those whose lives have been impacted and the first responders and medical personnel. I offer this prayer, written by Bishop Rob Hirschfeld:

Give us courage for the facing of this hour. Guide us by the bright vision of your Heavenly Realm where no weapon is drawn but the sword of righteousness, no strength known but the strength of love. O Christ, show us your mercy as we put our trust in you.

+     +     +

The connection between these two texts, one from the Old Covenant and the other from the New Covenant seems pretty unmistakable, doesn’t it? It seems so nice and tidy! We hear a word from the prophet and then while his words are still ringing in our ears we hear it happening in the ministry of Jesus: the eyes of the blind are opened and the deaf hear. Who could miss it, right?

From the prophet, Isaiah the 35^th chapter:

Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble (tottering) knees! Say to those who are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance with terrible recompense. He will come and save you." Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.

And then these words from the eleventh chapter of Matthew’s Gospel:

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, "Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?" Jesus answered them, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offense at me."

Anybody who reads the Old Testament knows that when Messiah comes there is supposed to be peace on earth and goodwill to all people and the lion is supposed to lie down with the lamb and swords will be beaten into plowshares. Nation shall not lift up sword against nation. All that good stuff we’ve been hearing about now for three weeks in Advent from Isaiah. So what went wrong?

Jesus is born and is baptized by John in the Jordan River and teaches people about the Kingdom of God. He heals the sick and he’s a great preacher. All good stuff. But then things start to unravel. First John, the one who baptized Jesus, is arrested and put into prison. You all remember how that ends, right? Certainly not with a stay of execution! And one can already see the writing on the wall for Jesus: he, too, will come into conflict with the religious and political authorities and be arrested and tried and executed.

Good Friday is less than four months away.

So John’s question is legitimate. There isn’t yet peace in Jerusalem, let alone on earth. Not when he asked the question and not today. We can’t even get good will in Washington, DC!  Most nations continue to spend way more on swords than plowshares in their national budgets, and lions still eat lambs for lunch. So if Messiah is supposed to do all those things, then who, John asks, are you? And what are you up to, Jesus? Why are kids getting killed at Brown?

It is a fair question, and it takes us on this third Sunday of Advent to the very heart of our faith. We are still waiting expectantly And that is what Advent is all about—not only waiting for the first coming of baby Jesus, but for the second coming of Christ the King. For new heavens and a new earth. For the New Jerusalem, and the new Providence and the new Bristol. For the new St. Michaels’ to shine as a light for all of the East Bay.

Waiting is hard. And it’s tempting in the meantime to ease our anxiety by spiritualizing the good news of Jesus Christ. This is not some temptation that comes from a so-called secular society; we do it to ourselves. We turn this holiday season into fuzzy sentimentality. Or we postpone all our hope until the day when Christ comes again.

But here is the thing: the prophets imagine God’s reign on earth as it is in heaven. And when Jesus sends word to John the Baptist in today’s gospel reading, notice that he isn’t talking in the future tense like Isaiah was. He now speaks of what is happening: the blind are receiving their sight, the lame are walking, the lepers are being cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.

So Jesus is a great teacher, a healer, the kind of guy everybody wants to eat supper with because wherever he is, it’s a party and everyone keeps hoping he’ll do that thing again with the water and the wine. But how do we really know he is the One? That is John’s question today and it lingers in the air. John has been out there proclaiming that the One who comes after him is going to usher in that reign of God—justice and peace and all the rest. I imagine as he sits in that prison cell that John was as confused as anyone and maybe even a bit angry, because the One whose sandals he knew he wasn’t fit to carry is out there doing good work to be sure—important ministry. But in a macro-cosmic sense the world looks pretty much the same as it always has. When are the prisoners really going to go free? That’s an existential question for John who is sitting in a prison cell and hoping it happens soon and definitely before his head ends up on a platter.

So how do you know? If you are a good Jew waiting for Messiah to come or a good Christian waiting for Messiah to come again—if you live in the first century or the twenty-first—if you are sitting in a prison cell or in a church pew—how do you know when it is God at work and that Messiah has come?

“Go tell John what you see and what you hear,” Jesus says. It is such classic, vintage Jesus. Notice that he doesn’t directly answer the question. He never does! He just encourages people to open their eyes and ears. But the problem with that is always the same: when you see, can you see what I see? When you listen, do you hear what I hear? When you listen to the evening news: is the world being made new or is it coming unglued? Is the light shining in the darkness, or is it just getting darker.

It’s not just about whether we are constitutionally more optimists or pessimists as far as I can tell—although perhaps that’s a part of it.  It’s more than just “is that glass half-full or half-empty?”  We can look at the same thing—each of us, from one day to the next and see it differently. Is it an opportunity or a crisis? Is it something that will help us grow or will it be our undoing? Is God in the midst of it all or absent? One could ask all of these questions in a congregation that is going through a time of transition and people will see things differently, and do

So much has to do with where we are and that can change from day-to-day. If we are overtired or depressed or angry or confused—sometimes we just plain cannot see. I mean literally, we sometimes just cannot see what is right before our eyes. The optic nerves are working fine and delivering messages to the brain but we are blind. And sometimes it’s like those images where if you blink you see it one way and if you blink again you see something else: is that an old lady or a young girl?

Go tell John what you see and hear.  Sometimes people whose lives seem (at least from where I stand) to be so incredibly blessed still struggle with doubt and uncertainty about whether God loves them or even exists. And sometimes people whose lives seem (at least from where I stand) to be so incredibly sad are able to find faith and love and joy and hope in the smallest of life’s gifts. The externals don’t always dictate how we will view even our own lives, let alone the world around us. We can have it all and feel empty and sometimes that is exactly where we are in December. And we can have very little and feel like our cup overflows. And sometimes that happens to us in December as well.

What you see depends on how you look and also where you look. What you hear depends a great deal on who you’re listening to.

So two people stand on the beach and watch the sun rise and one of them is overcome with awe and wonder and filled with an awareness of the goodness of life and the benevolence of God. The other sees a ball of fire sending harmful rays that need SPF 30 to avoid cancer. And oh yeah, that ball of fire is burning itself out and every day we’re one day closer to a universe where the lights will go out.

So what are you seeing this December? Do you see weak hands and tottering knees being strengthened? Because where you see those things happening, I think Jesus is saying, there you see God at work. There you see signs of Messiah’s presence. And if once you were blind but now you see in amazingly different ways—isn’t that good news?  

We have to be intentional about looking for signs of God’s presence in the world. If we can find ways to put ourselves in places where we can get glimpses at least, of new life and new possibilities, then it becomes food for the journey. And as we learn where to look and how to look with eyes that see and ears that hear, then our faith is truly strengthened because we see signs of God’s presence where we never before even thought to look. And if we are really brave we begin to join in, to participate in that holy work, to spread the good news.

Who knows where that may lead? We might even find God in a stable, of all places…