John 1:6-8,19-28

By Joseph Moore
December 11, 2011
Reading: John 1:6-8,19-28

Peace be with you.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.

This is the testimony given by John when the Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ He confessed and did not deny it, but confessed, ‘I am not the Messiah.’ And they asked him, ‘What then? Are you Elijah?’ He said, ‘I am not.’ ‘Are you the prophet?’ He answered, ‘No.’ Then they said to him, ‘Who are you? Let us have an answer for those who sent us. What do you say about yourself?’ He said,

‘I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness,

“Make straight the way of the Lord” ’,

as the prophet Isaiah said.

Now they had been sent from the Pharisees. They asked him, ‘Why then are you baptizing if you are neither the Messiah, nor Elijah, nor the prophet?’ John answered them, ‘I baptize with water. Among you stands one whom you do not know, the one who is coming after me; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandal.’ This took place in Bethany across the Jordan where John was baptizing.

Let us pray: Through all the words O God may it be your Word that is heard. Amen.

I wondered if anyone would be here today. Really...I wasn’t sure...I think it’s been a tough week to call yourself a Christian. And I wouldn’t have been surprised if the lot of you had decided you couldn’t take it anymore and you turned in your “Christian Card”. (We don’t really have Christian Cards...but surely you know what I mean).

It’s been a hard week to call yourself Christian...Between the headlines of that Kentucky Church banning mixed race members from joining, to TV News commentators telling other TV people that they’re going to hell simply because they disagree with them, to Pat Robertson proclaiming that God will punish America for encouraging countries to grant basic human rights to all their citizens.

That tiny church in Kentucky has since backtracked and announced that they welcome all Christian believers. But, in this age of instant internet news, the damage was done. And God knows we didn’t need that horrible, outrageous, God-less, graceless, Christ-less advertisement by a certain governor running for President. I know most of you have seen it, or at least heard about it.

In what is one of the more UnChristian campaign ads ever created our Governor presumes to speak on behalf of all Christians and proceeds to denounce our brave gay and lesbian soldiers who are now allowed to openly serve in our military. Christians of all persuasions should be appalled at this blatant use of our faith for political ends. For too long the church has been used, by both political parties. We’ve been used to continue policies that promote war and economic injustice.

This week I’ve found myself saying over and over again, sometimes quite loudly and with colorful language, these people don’t speak for me. If Christianity is simply a racist, homophobic, pawn for politicians to use then I want out...and I bet many of you do to.

So...I wondered if you would come this week. I’m so glad you did.

Maybe you came because you hope against hope that there are other voices that speak for you. Voices that speak with you. Maybe your Advent hope this year has less to do with the specifics of a baby born in Bethlehem 2000 years ago, and more to do with what it might mean to follow Jesus today.

Maybe you’ve come today to hear a different voice...a voice that tells you you’re loved just the way you are...a voice, that in-spite of everything you’ve heard and in-spite of choices that you’ve made, a voice that says, “It’s going to be ok.” I hope that’s why you’ve come. The voices of angry televangelists, backward church leaders, and desperate politicians aren’t the only ones speaking to us this Christmas. I hope you came to be reminded of that.

A parishioner called me last week to tell me something his young grand-daughter said. You need to know that his granddaughter is being raised in a family that practices a religion other than Christianity. “Grandpa,” she said as she looked up at him, “Grandpa, Christians are Christmas people.” He gently looked down at her and said, “sweetheart...I think you’re right about that.” I think they’re both right. We Christians...we are Christmas People. It’s good to be reminded of that. We aren’t doom and gloom people. We aren’t hateful people. We are Christmas people. We, like the prophets of old, are dreamers. At our best we are a people who hold onto the hope that ultimately love wins.

But there are so many other voices.

Voices that preach division. Voices that speak despair. Voices that lie and tell you all you need to do to be happy is buy one more thing. Voices that tell you if you only looked a little younger you would find a partner. Voices that tell you if you’re poor it’s because you’re lazy. That if you only worked harder you could get off the street. Voices that tell us we’re unpatriotic if we question our nation’s lust for war. We’re surrounded by a cacophony of voices telling us to fear those who aren’t like us.

But...in today’s gospel reading we hear a different voice. The voice of a lone half-naked, camel skin wearing, locust eating man. The voice of “one crying out in the wilderness” The Advent voice of John the Baptizer telling us to, “Make straight the way of the Lord.” Make straight the way of God because God is coming. It’s good and terrifying news. This is a voice worth listening to.

There is what reads like a post-script at the end of today’s text.

We’re told John is washing people at the Jordan River near Bethany. Bethany was most likely a village built around caring for the sick and destitute. In many ways it was a town where people went to die. You’ll recall that Simon the Leper lived there as did Lazarus. Messengers are sent from Bethany to let Jesus know that Lazarus was about to die. The only reason you would go to Bethany was because you were, poor, homeless, or sick.

And without saying a word John proclaims something about the coming kingdom of God. He tells us, without saying a word, the Kingdom is founded, rooted, and inspired by the outcasts of society. John doesn’t go to the gated Jerusalem suburbs below the Temple Mount to announce that God is coming. He doesn’t go to the temple court. He goes to Bethany.

He goes to a town where people go to die...It is to the smelly, the poor, and the outcast that the promise of God’s presence is proclaimed. He tells us...without saying anything that if we’re looking for the Prince of Peace we need not look to places of power and prestige...we don’t need to walk up the hill we’re currently sitting on...we need to walk down the hill...down the hill to Bethany...down the hill to Caritas, to the Salvation Army, to the ARCH. That’s where John was, and that’s where Jesus would soon follow.

The authorities didn’t think this was appropriate, they never do, so they sent the religious police to see what was going on. They asked, “Who are you?” John refuses to answer their questions with anything more than a series of abrupt ‘no’s’. Finally when asked what he has to say about himself he allows the prophet Isaiah to speak for him. “I am the voice of one crying out in the wilderness, make straight the way of the Lord.”

You’ll recall that Jesus begins his ministry in Luke’s Gospel by quoting the passage Nicole read from Isaiah where he says, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because God has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

What Isaiah, John, and Jesus are talking about is nothing short of the wholesale reordering of the world. This “year of the Lord’s favor” was a year that was supposed to be observed every 50 years in Israel. It was a time in which land was returned to it’s original owners, prisoners were released, and all debt was forgiven. Can you imagine that? It was supposed to be the ultimate community do-over. The problem lies in the fact that it never actually happened...And yet Isaiah, Jesus, John, and countless human beings throughout history have acknowledged that it needs to happen. That one day...it will happen.

I spent a portion of this weekend at the Four Season’s Hotel where I was the minister at a wedding. On Friday when I walked into the lobby I walked by a table where football recruits for the University of Texas were signing in to their hotel rooms for a recruiting weekend. I understand that UT needs to do all it can to attract recruits, but there’s something that needs to be reordered in a world where high school juniors are put up in the most expensive hotel in Austin, while children living in the projects 1/2 a mile down the road from that fine hotel can’t afford school uniforms. The Four Seasons is a long way from Bethany.

Isaiah, John, and Jesus bring us good news that one day the way will be made straight. The Year of the Lord’s Favor will be made real. One day. It’s good but terrifying news.

The good news is terrifying to the authorities who are trying to hold everything together...those who need things to stay as they are. John announces to those about to die in Bethany, he announces to the religious leaders and he announces to you and to me that Jesus, who in this Gospel most of all is not just the bringer of good news, but the embodiment of it. That Jesus will be far more threatening that John.

I wonder if we gravitate to the voices of TV commentators telling one another they’re going to hell, or to politicians using the language of religion as a means to an end because the voice of one crying out in the wilderness is even more disruptive, more disorienting, more dis-comforting.

To make straight the way of the Lord is to lay the ground work for a new way of life. To make straight the way of the Lord is to let go of power and privilege. To make straight the way of the Lord is to not only feed and house those saints living in the alley behind the church, but to change the conditions that led them there in the first place. This charge, this voice of one crying out in the wilderness...it too can be too much.

On one hand we pray that God will rip open the heavens and raise that which is devastated, that God will repair the ruined cities, that God will tear down that which separates us from one another. On the other hand we recognize that for most of us it means our lives will have to be radically altered.

I think God knows that we can’t handle a wholesale reordering, so God decided to tear open the heavens with a cry that was no louder than the cry of a newborn child. Ultimately, I hope it’s that cry you’ve come here to hear. Not the prophetic cry of Isaiah, or John...but the cry of the one toward which they witness.

This idea of the “Year of the Lord’s Favor” this radical reordering of society can be too much. But still you’ve come. You’ve come to hear the voice of a child because Christians are Christmas people.

That grandchild who told her grandfather that Christians are Christmas people...that same girl...a few minutes later in that same conversation explained to her grandfather that God is a big God, big enough to fit in all our hearts and in all our faiths. To that my friend responded, “Sweetheart...that’s right...God is bigger than anything we can imagine...” The little girl looked at her grandfather and in wide eyed wonder said, simply...profoundly...”WHOOOOOOOOOOA...” And then they walked in silent contemplation.

I hope you come back again, and that you keep coming to hear another voice. Come and hear the voice of a child this Christmas...a voice that tells you that you are loved...and may you hear THAT voice and may your Advent prayer be, in the word of my friends granddaughter...whoooooooa.

Let us pray:

Oh God drown out all voices but your own voice of Love. In a world riddled with despair and division remind us of your Advent love, remind us so that this community of faith and eventually all your world might stand with children throughout all time and that together we might hear Your voice and be amazed.

Amen.