Monday, December 13, 2021

Sermon: Where joy comes from (Dec 12, 2021)

We had some issues with the software, and the service is in three parts. THIS is the part with the sermon. 


Advent 3C
Dec. 12, 2021
Luke 3:7-18

INTRODUCTION

This third Sunday in Advent is called Gaudete Sunday, Rejoice Sunday. It is when we take a break from the sometimes penitential nature of Advent and instead embrace the joy. You will see this sense of joy in our first three readings – though none of them are written from a place we would call joyful. Zephaniah writes from a context of spiritual and political corruption, in which leaders exploit the poor. The entire book up to this point has been lament and calls for repentance. The context of Isaiah, from which today’s Psalm comes, is the Babylonian exile, and all its suffering and humiliation. And Paul is writing his letter to the Philippians from prison! He is awaiting trial and death, having been threatened, rejected, beaten, and shipwrecked. And yet from each context come these words calling us to sing aloud, shout, rejoice, rejoice again, and sing praises. You see, joy is not dependent on circumstance.

Knowing these contexts prepares us to hear the Gospel reading, which is… less overtly joyful, unless of course you like being called a brood of vipers. And yet Luke will end today’s reading by saying that by saying these things, these tough words and calls for repentance to those gathered, John was “proclaiming the good news to the people.”

So as you listen, listen for the good news. Hear these readings as acknowledging that life can be hard, but joy can still exist, and find how God might be drawing your attention to how joy comes about in your life. Let’s listen.

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Photo credit: my dad on his morning walk, North Ponds, Webster

Grace to you and peace from the one who is and who was and who is to come. Amen.

After all those weeks of apocalyptic texts, I was looking forward to this week, this “Rejoice Sunday,” because I am ready to talk about joy! I approached these texts with relief, smiling as I read Zephaniah. Yeah, that’s the stuff, I thought. The Psalm, this week from Isaiah, is one that always brings to mind a certain song I once performed, and that fills my soul right up. Philippians is obvious – rejoice, and then say it again! This is great, I thought. So many options!

Then I got to the Gospel. Nothing says “joy” like, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Yup, all the warm fuzzies. Nothing like axing trees and unquenchable fire to warm our hearts this Advent season! 

And yet, Luke tells us in that last verse that it was with words like these that John proclaimed the good news to the people. And good news certainly is joyful, so… what good news are we to wrestle from this text?

Let’s look first at the fact that all these people are swarming toward John’s difficult words. You might not think that “you brood of vipers” would be an effective opener, yet there they all are! And not just humoring him, but engaging with him. “And what about us?” they ask. “What can we do?” They’re into it! People don’t ask question about how they need to change their lives unless they, you know, see a need to change their lives. If everything is going hunky dory, I can’t imagine they would stick around, but it is not hunky dory. They heard John’s message and felt that stirring in their hearts, that voice saying, “Listen to this. Don’t turn away.” Boy, turning away from difficult messages is tempting, isn’t it! Not many people take criticism well. More often, when criticized, we make excuses, or dismiss the criticism, or bite back, flipping the comment back on someone. “Well, what you need to do is…” because it could never be us who has the problem, right? And yet, deep down, we know that we do have the problem. We are feeling restless, resentful, angry, depressed, lonely, afraid, tired. Things are not how we’d like them to be. And those flocking to hear John’s message feel that, too. They know a change has to happen.

So that’s the first, difficult step toward finding the good news, and with it, the joy: recognizing that this message is one we need to hear. That message may be an ending, one of those endings that we try so desperately to avoid. But we’re not stopping there at the end. We’ll keep going toward the message that will bring a beginning. So now, what is that message we need to hear? 

Menacing as it is, I find good news in that image of an ax at the root of the tree. The ax and the fire tell us that the time has come to get rid of the things that do not bear fruit in our lives – that keep us from living joy-filled lives. Get rid of them! And really, why would we want those things in our lives anyway, if they are keeping us from joy? Yet, making a big change is hard. In my head, I think it is easier to chip away at it, little by little… but man, that gets exhausting, right? Having to work so long and hard and tediously? Sometimes we need someone to say, “Hey, I’ve got an ax here. Want some help?” 

When I was undergoing chemo treatments at age 15, I was terrified of losing my hair. I didn’t want to look like the cancer patient I was, because my 15-year-old ego was already fragile enough. But sure enough, the hair started to go. For several days I woke with hair on my pillow and in my mouth, and watched it gather round the shower drain. I was heavy with despair. One day, we invited my hairdresser to come out to our house (I wasn’t well enough to drive there). She tried to style what was left, to no use. So… she buzzed it. Took the hair styling equivalent of an ax to my beautiful curly brown locks. And I. Felt. Liberated. My heart was lighter, I was smiling, I didn’t cry again for the rest of my treatment. I was rid of this thing I had been insistent about hanging onto, this thing I thought I needed to feel strong and confident. Of course, my strength and confidence never came from my hair – it had always come from God – and now, with my hair gone, I could see that.

I wish that cutting off our sin was that easy and fast! It isn’t, but, the work of repentance is as effective at bringing about joy. It may take some digging to find what exactly needs to be buzzed, because, like my hair, things that need to be cut off may look very much like the things that are giving us what we crave. But don’t be swayed. With God’s help, you can discern the difference. Some things may make us happy, but that happiness is only fleeting or surface deep; this is not what will bring us lasting joy. But if you can look at some aspect of your life – not another person, or another person’s problem or a circumstance outside of yourself, but rather, a habit or feeling or common reaction that is yours –  when you look at it and imagine it gone, and you feel in the depth of your heart a lightness, freedom, peace, and joy… that is a good indication that this is something that needs to be thrown into the fire. Repent of those things: turn away from them, go a different way. Don’t let them any longer rob you of that joy that God desires for you.

Once we’ve turned away, how do we know which way to go? It is so much easier imagining how someone else needs to change, right, which way they should go, rather than do the hard work ourselves! John gives some suggestions for a direction: be generous, kind, merciful, and just. Don’t give in to the greed and selfishness that the world tells us will put us ahead of others. Live your life with an eye more toward those godly qualities; live it more like one who loves and is loved by God. 

I love this earthy advice, which speaks to any vocation – whether tax collector, soldier, stay-at-home mom, doctor, teacher or custodian, you can live into your vocation in a way that is generous, kind, merciful and just. You don’t have to take on a bunch of extra in order to find a joyful life. You just have to live the one you’ve got in a way that embodies the life God wants for you.

Our featured song today, which we will hear during communion, is another that I would not normally associate with Advent, but it beautifully illustrates this life that John describes to the crowd. “When the poor ones, who have nothing, still are giving; when the thirsty pass the cup, water to share; when the wounded offer others strength and healing: We see God, here by our side, walking our way.” The people in this song – the poor, the thirsty, the wounded – refuse to be limited or defined by their label. They are poor, but still have something to give. We all do; we all lack in many things, and we all are gifted in many things, and we all have something to share with our neighbor, whether it is a coat or a listening ear. And in these ordinary ways, when we are kind, generous, merciful and just, the hymn claims, “We see God, here by our side, walking our way.” Or as Paul says in Philippians, “The Lord is near.” And suddenly, with that nearness of God and that faithful living – in our work, in our daily lives – suddenly, there we find the joy we crave. 

That is what needs to be fed as we look toward the coming of our Lord. So much demands our energy – our responsibilities, yes, but also all those things we considered earlier, things that we think are giving us what we need but are not, things we need to cut off, like an ax to a tree that doesn’t bear fruit. Those things suck our energy and they don’t deliver what they promise. Our joy, our life, comes in taking an ax to those things that do not give life, and turning toward the things that do: the things marked by generosity, kindness, mercy, justice, and joy.

In a recent conversation with my spiritual director, we were talking about joy – how to find it, how it feels, what keeps us from it. As I described how I experience joy, how I really know I have found it, she looked me in the eye and said, “That feeling of joy and wholeness that you described – that is your natural state. It is God’s intention for you. Follow that joy.” And that is what we do in this Advent season: we follow the true source of our joy, our Lord and savior come to us, to love us and show us the way to life.

Let us pray… God of joy, it can be terrifying to make the necessary changes in our lives, even when we know they will lead to joy. Give us courage to move toward joy, to live our daily lives in ways marked by generosity, kindness, mercy and justice. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

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