Necessary Things | 1st after Christmas Day

Luke 2:41-52

⁴¹ Each year his parents went to Jerusalem for the Passover Festival. ⁴² When he was 12 years old, they went up to Jerusalem according to their custom. ⁴³ After the festival was over, they were returning home, but the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem. His parents didn’t know it. ⁴⁴ Supposing that he was among their band of travelers, they journeyed on for a full day while looking for him among their family and friends. ⁴⁵ When they didn’t find Jesus, they returned to Jerusalem to look for him. ⁴⁶ After three days they found him in the temple. He was sitting among the teachers, listening to them and putting questions to them. ⁴⁷ Everyone who heard him was amazed by his understanding and his answers.

⁴⁸ When his parents saw him, they were shocked. His mother said, “Child, why have you treated us like this? Listen! Your father and I have been worried. We’ve been looking for you!”

 ⁴⁹ Jesus replied, “Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father’s house?” ⁵⁰ But they didn’t understand what he said to them.

⁵¹ Jesus went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. His mother cherished every word in her heart. ⁵² Jesus matured in wisdom and years, and in favor with God and with people. (CEB)

Necessary Things

I think the day after Christmas Day should be a national day of rest. We’ve been in a near-constant state of Christmas preparation since November first. Now we’re all exhausted from travelling, visiting family and friends, going to Christmas parties and gatherings, eating Christmas meals, the craziness of Christmas morning when the kids (or grandkids) open their gifts. Not to mention all the shopping.

It’s exhausting! Wonderful, but exhausting.

Some of us are exhausted from sickness running its course through our entire household! Thankfully it wasn’t COVID-19. It is that time of year.

This moment—the day after the big celebration—looks a lot like our Gospel text from Luke. The Holy Family had travelled to Jerusalem to celebrate the annual Passover festival, as usual. This was one of the big celebrations within Jewish life.

Now that the festival had ended, they were headed home with all the other faithful pilgrims who’d gone to the temple for worship. But Jesus decided to stay behind and chat with the teachers of his faith. Really, Jesus’ motivation for staying in the Temple while his parents left the city isn’t clear. Maybe he had specific questions that he wanted to discuss with those who might know the answers, or at least discover how to find those answers. Maybe he lost track of time, like kids tend to do when they’re occupied with something. Maybe he thought he was grown up enough to stay behind in another city while his mom and dad headed back home to Nazareth and figured he’d catch up with them later.

His parents, Mary and Joseph, after travelling a day toward home before realizing that their son wasn’t with their group, certainly thought Jesus was lost. The text suggests that Mary and Joseph were travelling back to Nazareth with a rather large company of extended family and friends, so it’s easy to imagine how a tween-age boy could get lost among the other children in the group.

Mary and Joseph assumed Jesus was hanging out with his friends as they traveled, so it didn’t set off alarm bells when they didn’t see him for a while. When my family had big gatherings in the pre-pandemic years, I wouldn’t see my children for hours. I assumed they were somewhere in the house, but I figured as long as there wasn’t blood on the floor, they were okay.

It’s a stark contrast from when I first became a parent. Back then, every sound Kara made had me running to her cradle to make sure she was okay. And it got tiring. I think it’s one of those learning curves every parent experiences. So, over time, a parent learns to pay attention to the kind of sound our kid makes. And we parse out whether the sound is just a sound, or a distressful sound. And we get really adept at learning to tell the difference.

Most parents know how to distinguish kinds of screams. We learn how to tell the difference between happy screams and screams of pain, or even screams of anger. But there are those moments when the pitch of a child’s scream makes parents in the room sit up with a racing heart, and we listen hard, because the way that scream sounded, it could go either way.

Then, a laugh rings out, or there’s a tell-tale change in pitch that reassures our heart. And we relax and go back to what we were doing because we’re reasonably certain that the kids are okay.

I mention that to put Mary and Joseph’s situation into a little perspective. They were not neglectful parents. They were not travelling as a nuclear family, they were traveling as The Crowd from Nazareth. Jesus is the one who decided to stay in Jerusalem when his parents left the city in the caravan full of family and friends. Why wouldn’t they have assumed Jesus was in the caravan with them? Why wouldn’t they assume that their son was off with some of his cousins or friends?

Leaving Jerusalem would have been as busy and chaotic as any family trip you’ve ever taken. Jesus knew they were leaving. He would have helped them pack. Luke’s text tells us that Mary and Joseph assumed Jesus was in the caravan, and they looked for him the whole day while they travelled. They didn’t ditch Jesus, Jesus is the one who ditched his parents and chose to wander off for another visit to the temple.

And, he really didn’t waste any courtesy on his mom and dad when they found him—three days later(!)—in the temple. When Mary asked him why he did this to them and explained how worried they’d been and how they’d had to search for him, Jesus’ response was, “Why were you looking for me? Didn’t you know that it was necessary for me to be in my Father’s house?” (_{Luke 2:49 CEB}).

No. They obviously didn’t know that. Luke only tells us that his parents didn’t understand what Jesus was saying, and that statement is a clue that there’s more going on here than at first appears.

On one hand, I try to imagine how I would respond to this situation if this were my son. But that really doesn’t compare because my son is not God’s Divine Son. Of that I am 100 percent confident. Mary, on the other hand, was fully confident that Jesus was God’s Son—God’s actual child—that he was special and different. And maybe this wasn’t the first instance of Jesus doing something odd and acting like it was completely normal. In any case, it seems that Mary and Joseph exercised a rare kind of patience with their son that was equal to the moment, and they met Jesus where he was.

Where Jesus was, in this moment and so many others, was in his father’s house. One of the things we learn about Jesus is that the temple was immensely important to him. He was carried into the temple before he could walk when he was presented to the Lord and recognized as Israel’s redeemer by Simeon and Anna (_{Luke 2:22-24}). When Jesus visited the temple years later, he threw the money changers out and turned over the tables of those who were selling things there. And he quoted Isaiah 56:7 and Jeremiah 7:11, saying, “My house will be a house of prayer, but you have made it a hideout for crooks” (_{Luke 19:46 CEB}).

Jesus called it his house, because his father’s house was his home, too. And what was going on in his house demanded his attention. “Didn’t you know,” Jesus said to his mother, “that it was necessary for me to be in my father’s house?”

If it was necessary for Jesus, then I’d suggest it’s necessary for us to be in God’s house, too. We need to be present in God’s house so that we can mature and grow in perfection. God’s grace is necessary for us to grow, and that necessarily requires something of us.

Here’s the curious thing—at least it might seem a curious thing to us: even Jesus matured. Even Jesus grew in perfection. Even Jesus needed to be in the temple to worship God. Even Jesus went to the synagogue every Sabbath day, as the Gospel reminds us in Luke 4:16.

The fact that Jesus “matured in wisdom and years, and in favor with God and with people” (_{Luke 2:52 CEB}) wasn’t some miraculous event that just happened, it was due to the practice of his faith! Jesus was in the temple. He was an observant Jew from a family of observant Jews who went to temple during the pilgrim festivals, and to the synagogue every Sabbath day. It was important to Jesus to be in God’s house. Jesus grew steadily from his religious roots, not in spite of them. There is no such thing as being either a Jew or a Christian apart from the community of faith, or apart from communal worship in God’s house!

John Wesley saw this text as evidence for practical divinity, that growth in holiness is a process that requires progress. Growth requires participation and presence. That’s why we pledge our “Presence” in our membership vows when we join The United Methodist Church. Jesus, though he was already perfect, continued to grow in perfection. If even the perfect Son of God had to mature and grow, it plainly follows that even the purest and most seasoned of Christians have room to mature, too. Isn’t that why we come to this place every week? Isn’t that why we offer God our worship, receive God’s grace, and pray for each other here in this sanctuary? We come here to hear the story of God’s love, redemption, and salvation again when so many other stories vie for our attention throughout the week.

We should also note that Jesus’ presence in the Synagogue and Temple was something he learned from his parents. It was important to Jesus because it was important to his parents. He learned from them. The practice of faithfulness is oftentimes something we learn from our parents or other family members.

Maybe you know why you decided to come to worship today, or maybe you don’t really know. Maybe you felt compelled by some inner necessity to be in God’s house with your extended family and friends. Whatever got you here, your presence suggests that your faith is important to you, and that—rather like Jesus—you know you have room to grow and mature.

That seems like a rather mature insight to me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen!

~Rev. Christopher Millay

Mary’s Song | 4th of Advent

Luke 1:39-55

³⁹ Mary got up and hurried to a city in the Judean highlands. ⁴⁰ She entered Zechariah’s home and greeted Elizabeth. ⁴¹ When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. ⁴² With a loud voice she blurted out, “God has blessed you above all women, and he has blessed the child you carry. ⁴³ Why do I have this honor, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? ⁴⁴ As soon as I heard your greeting, the baby in my womb jumped for joy. ⁴⁵ Happy is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill the promises he made to her.”

⁴⁶ Mary said,

“With all my heart I glorify the Lord!

⁴⁷ In the depths of who I am I rejoice in God my savior.

⁴⁸ He has looked with favor on the low status of his servant.

Look! From now on, everyone will consider me highly favored

⁴⁹ because the mighty one has done great things for me. Holy is his name.

⁵⁰ He shows mercy to everyone, from one generation to the next, who honors him as God.

⁵¹ He has shown strength with his arm.

He has scattered those with arrogant thoughts and proud inclinations.

⁵² He has pulled the powerful down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.

⁵³ He has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed.

⁵⁴ He has come to the aid of his servant Israel, remembering his mercy,

⁵⁵ just as he promised to our ancestors, to Abraham and to Abraham’s descendants forever.” (CEB)

Mary’s Song

Advent always seems a little backwards, doesn’t it? I’ve mentioned in previous sermons how the Gospel readings for the first three Sundays of Advent feature a fully-grown Jesus and John the Baptizer preaching a message of our need to repent. Then, on this Sunday, the story jumps backward in time. Jesus and John the Baptizer both appear in the account, but neither of them have been born yet.

The Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth is a beautiful story of two women who each represent something old and something new. Elizabeth is an echo of Sarah, an elderly woman who hadn’t been able to have a child with her husband. She was a descendant of Aaron and was married to a priest. Elizabeth’s husband, Zechariah, was promised a son through Elizabeth, and this son would come in “the spirit and power of Elijah” (_{Luke 1:17 CEB}) to prepare God’s people for the coming of the Lord. It’s something we recognize because God has done it before in Sarah.

Mary sounds like an echo of Hannah, the mother of the prophet Samuel. Mary’s song, the Magnificat, sounds strikingly similar to Hannah’s song (_{c.f. 1 Samuel 2:1-10}). And yet, Mary is very different. She’s a young girl. She’s not married. Yet, the angel Gabriel promised her she would give birth to the Son of the Most High, a king to rule over Jacob’s house forever in an unending dominion. I imagine Gabriel’s message would have been a heavy burden for an unwed girl. This was a new thing that God would do. It was unexpected even though it was foretold. Isaiah had prophesied: “The young woman is pregnant and is about to give birth to a son, and she will name him Immanuel.” (_{Isaiah 7:14b, CEB}).

When the angel told Mary she would become pregnant, Gabriel pointed out that her relative, Elizabeth, had conceived a son in her old age. As soon as the angel left her, Mary set out to visit Elizabeth. Some scholars have suggested that Mary’s desire for confirmation led her to trek out into the Judean countryside to find Elizabeth. In fact, John Calvin wrote about the appropriateness of Mary seeking such confirmation.

Seeking confirmation is not a lack of faith. It wasn’t a lack of faith on Mary’s part that led her to Elizabeth. Instead, it was Mary following through on the angel’s message, and it was Mary following through on her faith in what God was presently doing. When an angel brings something to one’s attention, it’s not a lack of faith that leads us to go see it for ourselves. On the contrary, it’s very appropriate to use the means available to support and strengthen the faith we have. It’s appropriate that Mary got up and went to see this miraculous thing the angel told her about.

But there are others, such as Venerable Bede, who suggested that Mary went to Elizabeth in order to give Elizabeth confirmation about what God was doing. It’s possible that Mary thought Elizabeth might need to know that this thing God was doing was really happening. Luke tells us that Elizabeth had secluded herself for five months. Mary flung open the door on Elizabeth’s seclusion and, perhaps, brought light to a woman who needed it.

Mary also would have cared for Elizabeth during the last stages of Elizabeth’s pregnancy. The text indicates that Mary stayed for the first three months of her own pregnancy, until just before Elizabeth gave birth to John.

When Mary walked into Elizabeth’s house, the Holy Spirit made recognition possible. Elizabeth’s child recognized the significance of Mary’s coming to them. John leaped in Elizabeth’s womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. Elizabeth makes the connection between Mary’s blessing and Mary’s believing. “God has blessed you above all women, and he has blessed the child you carry… Happy is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill the promises he made to her.” (_{Luke 1:42b, 45, CEB}).

Elizabeth is the elder, yet she’s genuinely humbled, even surprised that her young relative, Mary, would visit her. “Why do I have this honor, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (_{Luke 1:43}). It’s a little bit lost on us twenty-first century types who are so used to calling Jesus our Lord, but it’s significant that Elizabeth addresses Mary as the mother of her Lord—the title for God—under the prophetic influence of the Holy Spirit. Through Elizabeth, God the Holy Spirit tells us without a doubt that Mary is the Mother of God—the Θεοτόκος, the God-bearer—as the church calls her. The Holy Scriptures label Mary as the Mother of God, the woman blessed above all other women on the earth, the first believer in Christ, and all of it is confirmed by Elizabeth’s prophetic utterance as she’s filled with the Holy Spirit.

Part of the beauty of this story is that Mary’s visitation to Elizabeth gives both of these women something they needed. They find understanding, community, and connection in each other. Mary, especially, would have experienced stigma and ostracism as an unwed pregnant girl. But in Elizabeth, Mary finds acceptance and companionship.

Elizabeth had already faced marginalization from her community. She was an older woman who had not been able to have a child. Barrenness was, in the eyes of other people, a matter of shame—even sin, and certainly a mark of God’s disfavor. She said to herself, “This is the Lord’s doing He has shown his favor to me by removing my disgrace among other people” (_{Luke 1:25, CEB}). These two marginalized, pregnant women carried within them the future of God’s plan, and they were the first to proclaim the Christ who would come to save us.

Another part of this story’s beauty is in its strangeness. God always seems to defy our expectations. God constantly surprises us by acting in ways we might find odd for an all-powerful deity. And the idea that God would come to us through a humble, unwed peasant girl of no significance seems—from a human point of view—laughable at best. That God should declare that Mary, this young nobody from nowhere special, had somehow become God’s favored one, the one girl on the planet whom God chose to be the mother of God’s Son, shows us how pathetic our human expectations and assumptions often prove to be.

It also ought to give us pause any time we find ourselves agreeing with the mistreatment of other human beings who might be nobodies in the eyes of the world, yet beloved of God.

That this girl, an unmarried pregnant teenager, would be the one to proclaim some of the most significant words ever spoken and written shines a light on the failure of human wisdom. That the Gospel message, the Good News of God’s salvation began with two pregnant women having a conversation about the overthrow of every human empire, shows that we still fail to grasp where true power resides.

Mary’s Song, the Magnificat, is the heart of Christian hope, belief, and theology. Mary Song proclaims the upside-down, inside-out reality of God’s promises as already accomplished facts. Throughout her song, Mary proclaims what God has done.

God has shown mercy to everyone. God has shown strength with his arm. God has scattered those with arrogant thoughts and proud inclinations. God has pulled the powerful down from their thrones. God has lifted up the lowly. God has filled the hungry with good things. God has sent the rich away empty-handed. God has come to the aid of his servant, Israel. God has remembered his promise of mercy.

Mary reminds us that we can have confidence in God’s promises to us. What God says will be done is what God will do. And when God says something will be, it’s as factual as if it has already happened. God’s reign is coming. Of that, we can be assured.

To us, Mary’s words describe a world that sounds up-side-down from what we see and experience at present. But Mary sees with the eyes of a faith and tradition she has known. And Mary invites us to see her God-given vision of a world that is finally turned right-side-up by God’s great reversal.

Mary’s Song calls us to hear again the good news. She sings to us a reminder that the vision and plan God has for the world is in-process now. The workings of God might leave the nations confused, fearful, and shaken. The nations might even react by murdering children as Herod did in another part of the story. But God’s plan is inescapable. God’s reign and dominion is coming: a divine work that began to take shape ages ago.

But in one sense, the beginning of the fullness of God’s good news began with two pregnant women who carried within them the weight of God’s promise and its coming fulfillment. One child would prepare the way. The other child would be the Way. May Christ, the Way, turn our hearts, our minds, and our lives to the good news of God’s reign.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen!

~Rev. Christopher Millay

Worthy Fruits | 3rd of Advent

Luke 3:7-18

⁷ Then John said to the crowds who came to be baptized by him, “You children of snakes! Who warned you to escape from the angry judgment that is coming soon? ⁸ Produce fruit that shows you have changed your hearts and lives. And don’t even think about saying to yourselves, Abraham is our father. I tell you that God is able to raise up Abraham’s children from these stones. ⁹ The ax is already at the root of the trees. Therefore, every tree that doesn’t produce good fruit will be chopped down and tossed into the fire.”

 ¹⁰ The crowds asked him, “What then should we do?”

¹¹ He answered, “Whoever has two shirts must share with the one who has none, and whoever has food must do the same.”

¹² Even tax collectors came to be baptized. They said to him, “Teacher, what should we do?”

¹³ He replied, “Collect no more than you are authorized to collect.”

¹⁴ Soldiers asked, “What about us? What should we do?”

He answered, “Don’t cheat or harass anyone, and be satisfied with your pay.”

¹⁵ The people were filled with expectation, and everyone wondered whether John might be the Christ. ¹⁶ John replied to them all, “I baptize you with water, but the one who is more powerful than me is coming. I’m not worthy to loosen the strap of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. ¹⁷ The shovel he uses to sift the wheat from the husks is in his hands. He will clean out his threshing area and bring the wheat into his barn. But he will burn the husks with a fire that can’t be put out.” ¹⁸ With many other words John appealed to them, proclaiming good news to the people. (CEB)

Worthy Fruits

Last Sunday we got to hear a little about who John the Baptizer was, and we learned about his role in preparing people for God’s arrival by calling us to repentance. This week, we get to hear John’s message itself. John’s message connects the coming kingdom of God with the practice of how we are expected to live in the light of its anticipated arrival. You may recall my question from last Sunday’s sermon. How will the good news change us? That’s the practical side of theology, and theology always has a practical side.

I will note that John’s confrontational preaching style is not what I learned in seminary. He addresses the crowds who are coming to him for baptism by saying, “You children of snakes!” (_{Luke 3:7b, CEB}).

I don’t imagine it would go over too well if I started one of my sermons out that way.

Yet, John doesn’t actually call the people snakes. He calls them children of snakes. They are the progeny of snakes. The snakes themselves would have been the religious leaders who resisted John’s message, and who later resisted and plotted against the gospel message of Jesus Christ. It was these religious leaders from whom the people learned.

And it’s important that I note here that, although religious leaders often get criticized in the Gospels, not all religious leaders were bad. These are not blanket descriptions. There was always debate and disagreement between religious leaders, just like there is today. I certainly don’t agree with all other pastors, and not all pastors would agree with me. And we know that some religious leaders agreed with John and Jesus. But there were also some serious haters out there who sought to cut off the good news at the source, which these specific religious leaders later proved by plotting to have Jesus arrested, then handed over to Roman authorities to be killed.

John asks the people, “Who warned you to escape the angry judgment that is coming soon?” (_{Luke 3:7b CEB}). It probably was not the snakes, the religious leaders, who warned them. The irony is that it was probably John’s own message that brought these people to him that day. They had heard about this wilderness preacher, and they went to him because they felt drawn to his message. They wanted to hear for themselves what this prophet had to say. They were seekers, just like we are seekers. And it seems that they were looking to draw nearer to God.

John continues, “Produce fruit that shows you have changed your hearts and lives. And don’t even think about saying to yourselves, Abraham is our father. I tell you that God is able to raise up Abraham’s children from these stones. The ax is already at the root of the trees. Therefore, every tree that doesn’t produce good fruit will be chopped down and tossed into the fire.” (_{Luke 3:8-9 CEB}).

God knows us—who we really are—by our behavior. God can’t be fooled by words that don’t match what we do. One thing that some people thought they had going for them was the fact that they were children of Abraham and, therefore, particularly chosen by God. But John said that wasn’t enough, and he repeated the message of pretty much every prophet who had come before him. It doesn’t matter who we are. What matters is how we live. God expects people to behave. And when we don’t, then repentance—changing our hearts, our minds, and our lives—is necessary.

It’s not enough to be a child of Abraham. God has expectations beyond our heritage. No one gets an automatic bid. No one can hide behind our traditions, our positions of privilege, our national identity, or even our church identity. We are known by our fruit. What we truly value in life will be known by what we do and how we live. It’s on these matters that we will be judged. I can, at least, speak for myself when I say that I don’t always do or say good and right things. Repentance becomes a necessary part of our life of faith because we all have something from which we need to repent.

Repentance means to turn around. It’s an about-face, a U-turn, a change, a reorientation of one’s life toward God. But, for John, repentance has less to do with how passionately, enthusiastically, intensely, or often a person prays or goes through other religious motions. It’s about changing our attitude, our mind, our heart, the way we live, and the way we relate to others. Repentance can only happen with humility. It takes humility to recognize, accept, and admit that we’ve done or said something wrong and then choose to both make amends and do the work required to amend our heart, our mind, our actions, and our words.

The need for repentance is arguably the most difficult part of John’s message for people to accept. But in Luke’s account, the people seem to have accepted their need to change their hearts and lives and begun to ask the correct next questions: “What then should we do?” (_{Luke 3:10 CEB}).

Knowing our need to repent is one thing. Knowing how to do so is quite another. The answers John gave seem simple enough. “Whoever has two shirts must share with the one who has none, and whoever has food must do the same.” (_{Luke 3:11 CEB}). In a bartering system, a shirt was as good as money. We all have the privilege of providing for others by giving generously of what we have. One way is by giving God ten percent of our income which supports the mission and ministry of the church. Another is by directly giving of our selves by serving those in need in person. What if, in addition to funding ministry, we got personally invested in ministry?

“What then should we do?” the tax collectors and soldiers asked. John’s response was that we should be honest and satisfied with what we have. We should not lie or lay false accusations against others. Dishonesty, cheating, fraudulence, corruption, these things are not acceptable to God. And God will judge us for them. That’s why it’s necessary to repent, to turn around, to turn away from these things and do what’s right.

 Life should be lived as ethically as we can live it. It isn’t always easy. Just like the tax collectors, we’re dependent upon unjust systems and structures. There are ways around them, but we participate in unjust and disordered systems every day. So maybe, in addition to not cheating people in the work we do, John would tell us to look for ways around the unjust systems upon which much of Western society is built. Maybe we should be concerned about where the stuff we’re buying comes from and whether it was made and traded fairly.

John warns us that the ax is lying at the root of the tree. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. A little pruning is good for us. We could all benefit from allowing the Son of God to chop a little greed, pride, hypocrisy, selfishness, arrogance and the like out of our lives with a divine ax and have it all tossed into the fire of God’s judgment. The freedom repentance can bring us is a hopeful thing. This entire message is good news.

But John’s message is ripe with urgency. This isn’t something he suggests we do later on when we feel like it or when it’s convenient. The time for repentance is now. The need for repentance is now.

John’s message is eschatological in that he declares that judgment is coming soon, yet it is rooted in this world now. We believe Christ is coming some time—really at any time—in the future, but God expects us to act like Christ now. We’re called to bear fruit as product of our repentance-adjusted lives, but the expectation is that we will bear fruit now.

John called his hearers to repentance in order to prepare the way for the Advent of God’s Son. His message certainly sounded messianic, and Luke tells us that, “The people were filled with expectation, and everyone wondered whether John might be the Christ.” (_{Luke 3:15 CEB}). But John knew his ministry was only one of preparation. That was the fruit he bore. John baptized with water. The one who was coming after John would baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire—the power and presence of God and God’s judgment.

The Saints of the Church have long spoken of the two Advents of Christ. The first was when Jesus came as a human being to bear our sins on the cross. The second will be when Jesus comes again to burn away the chaff with unquenchable fire and gather the wheat into his granary.

John’s message reminds us what repentance—this reorientation toward God—is really about. The goal of repentance—of changing our hearts and minds—is to live in such a way that our core values become aligned with God’s core values, and God values the good, just, truthful, generous, grace-filled, and loving treatment of each person toward others. We all have need of true repentance. And John reminds us that our need is urgent. The ax is already at the root of the trees, but when Christ is the one doing the pruning, you can bet we’ll be better for it on the other side.

John invites us to look inside ourselves, to change our hearts and minds, and to believe in the good news of Jesus Christ. Because it doesn’t matter who we are. What matters to God is how we live.

O come, O come, Emmanuel. Turn our hearts and lives to you.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen!

Rev. Christopher Millay

The Day | 2nd of Advent

Malachi 3:1-4

¹ Look, I am sending my messenger who will clear the path before me; suddenly the LORD whom you are seeking will come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you take delight is coming, says the LORD of heavenly forces.

 ² Who can endure the day of his coming? Who can withstand his appearance? He is like the refiner’s fire or the cleaner’s soap.

 ³ He will sit as a refiner and a purifier of silver. He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. They will belong to the LORD, presenting a righteous offering.

 ⁴ The offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD as in ancient days and in former years. (CEB)

The Day

In the Season of Advent, we experience the reminder that something awful is afoot in God’s world, and I mean that in the old sense—full of awe. There is a terrible, hope-infused newness about life: terrible because it promises to overthrow all our old, comfortable, sinful ways; and hope-infused for the very same reason—it promises to overthrow all our old, comfortable, sinful ways.

We know something of what this newness of life looks like. It’s the work of God who, in ancient times, brought Israel out of Egypt, established Israel in the land, forced Israel into exile, and re-established Israel in the land. God’s work can come with ups and downs for God’s people that are not comfortable, especially for those who have bought into a theology that says God just wants us to be happy and comfortable.

The God of Israel has been breaking in on human life in strange ways that don’t quite fit our human definitions of how a mighty God ought to act. God gave us a child born in humble circumstances to an unwed Jewish woman; a child whose first bed was a manger where animals fed. A Redeemer who was executed when religious leaders and rulers of empire cooperated to silence him because his good news threatened their grip on power.

The church has long-associated this passage of Scripture with the Christ-event. The prophet Malachi, which is Hebrew for My Messenger, speaks of another messenger, a coming messenger of God who will accomplish the purification of God’s people by means of judgment. As the fire of the metallurgist separates the dross and impurities from the precious metal, as the launderer’s soap purges the dirt and grime from the cloth, so the messenger of God will cleanse sin from the life of the people.

The gift Advent offers to us is a time of preparation that we are invited to take seriously. While a part of Advent includes a joyful anticipation of the coming child who was born to save, there is a larger theme of Advent, a reality that is easy to overlook. Advent is also a season of anticipation, or even apprehension, over the coming of Christ the Judge, the One who will set straight all the world’s wrongs by presiding in glory and in justice over a fallen and sinful humankind. And the prophet rightly asks the question, “Who can endure the day of his coming?” (_{Malachi 3:2a CEB}).

Malachi 3 brings these other images of the Advent season before us. The church has traditionally connected these words of Malachi to the work and ministry of John the Baptizer who also announced the coming reign of God. We link these words with Malachi 4:5 which says, “Look, I am sending Elijah the prophet to you, before the great and terrifying day of the Lord arrives” (_CEB). A new Elijah was expected to arise in order to call the people to repentance, and to usher in a new beginning by announcing the coming reign of God.

Jesus said of John the Baptizer, “For all the prophets and the law prophesied until John came; and if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. Let anyone with ears listen!” (_{Matthew 11:13-14, NRSV}) and “‘Elijah is indeed coming and will restore all things; but I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him, but they did to him whatever they pleased. So also the Son of Man is about to suffer at their hands.’ Then the disciples understood that he was speaking to them about John the Baptist.” (_{Matthew 17:11-13, NRSV}).

John’s birth was announced to his father, Zechariah, by an angel who said, “‘Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord. He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.” (_{Luke 1:13-17, NRSV}).

Malachi 3 begins on a note of good news. The prophet announces that the messenger of the Lord of Hosts is about to appear. This is the same message that John the Baptizer would later proclaim. God’s messenger has been long-expected and long-awaited, for this is the one “whom you are seeking,” the one “in whom you take delight.” Still, the messenger comes suddenly, and his role is that of the messenger of the covenant. This title tells us that the work of this lord, this noble messenger of God, involves the life of the community of faith. It is with the community of faith that God has made a covenant.

But the glad tidings with which chapter 3 opens quickly change to a sense apprehension and dread. The messenger of the Lord of Hosts may be a bringer of news, but the news that he brings is a word of judgment. The judgment of God is so powerfully all-encompassing that it’s doubtful anyone will survive unscathed. “Who can endure the day of his coming? Who can withstand his appearance?” (_{Malachi 3:2}).

The messenger of the covenant who comes from the Lord of heavenly forces, will cleanse human impurities in a way that might not be pleasant for those of us who are being cleansed. It’s a cleansing that makes us what we are meant to be. A washing that will make us as clean as any detergent could. We, the people of God will be reshaped into the image that God intends for us to be, an image of righteousness. Then, and only then, will we be able to present righteous offerings to our Lord. Only then will we be able to worship God rightly.

It may be a comforting thought that God will purify us this way, but the process of purification may feel painful. It means exposing and confessing our deepest and darkest sins. It’s like pulling the scab off a gory wound and allowing Jesus to clean it out with rubbing alcohol.

Have you ever tried to clean a child’s wound? I remember times when my children would take a tumble and run to me with bloody scrapes and tear-filled eyes. I would try to calm them so I could clean their wound and get the bits of dirt and gravel out. But trying to convince a small child that the way to make their hurt feel better was to do something that seems to temporarily make it feel worse—cleaning and dressing it—was a tough sell. It wasn’t easy to convince my children that I knew what was best for them and that I was cleaning their wound out of my love and care for them.

The process of our healing will be painful, but in the end our wounds will be healed, our impurities will be removed, our sins will be forgiven. God wants to heal our wounds, remove our impurities, and forgive our sins out of God’s deepest love for us so that we can stand pure and spotless before the Lord our God. But that cleansing happens when we recognize our need to repent—to change our hearts and lives—and go to God for forgiveness and reconciliation. We must seek the newness that God offers to us.

John’s message was simple, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near!” (_{Matthew 3:2, NRSV}). John prepared the way for Jesus who spoke the same message, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near!” (_{Matthew 4:17 NRSV}). Jesus taught the apostles who proclaimed the same message after Jesus had ascended into heaven, “Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah appointed for you, that is, Jesus, who must remain in heaven until the time of universal restoration that God announced long ago through his holy prophets.” (_{Act 3:19-21, NRSV}).

This is the same message that I and other pastors have been called to preach, a message handed down through the holy apostles from Jesus, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” And it’s the same message that we have been called to proclaim to the world through our baptism, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

In the season of Advent, and especially by the word of Malachi, we people of the church are confronted by the reality that the Advent expectation is not as simple as getting ready for Christmas and longing to celebrate the birth of a child who was destined to become our savior. It’s also the anticipation that with the coming of God’s messenger the world is put on notice that things will change, that old wrongs shall be uprooted and made right, that old values shall be replaced with the values of God. Malachi imagines this new day as a return to a former time, “ancient days and former years,” when the world was younger and human life was lived nearer to the heart of God. We’re always pining for “the good ol’ days” aren’t we? The Day of the Lord will bring forth a reality that is as old as the human race, yet breathtakingly new.

“Who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?” The obvious answer is no one. No one will escape the work of God unscathed, even those of us who believe. God will purify us and make us whole. God will purge us with fire, wash us with fuller’s soap, and make us clean so that we may stand and offer true offerings of worship to the Lord our God.

At the same time, the call to repentance stands—right now!—as an invitation offered to us by God’s Messenger. And that part is up to us. You see, knowing this good news is one thing. But we don’t learn merely for the sake of learning. We don’t study the Bible just to study the Bible. We don’t come to church on Sunday morning just to show up in church. How will it change us? That’s the important question that we need to ask ourselves. How will we live differently because God’s messenger has proclaimed God’s good news? How will the good news of God’s coming reign change us?

God’s message of good news can be incredibly freeing. Knowing the good news frees us to live the way God wants us to live without being afraid of what others think. If we already know God wins, that the reign of God is immanent, what’s stopping us from faithful living?

We are suddenly free to live in ways that build community, that bring peace, that stand against injustices, that value other people. We are suddenly free to give with real generosity and give of ourselves for the sake of others because love has come into the world, and we have been given a part in this new-yet-ancient way of life.

God’s good news changes everything. How will it change us?

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen!

Rev. Christopher Millay