Sermon for December 4

Advent 2-A

12/4/22 St. John’s

Matthew 3:1-12

 

Some of you may remember Burt Reynolds told the story about  how he was doing a stunt in a movie, and his stunt teacher was there, coaching him. And in this stunt he was going to be coming out of a burning building, and he was supposed to be on fire. So he said he wore an asbestos suit, they would light him on fire, they had practiced it, he knew the blocking, he was supposed to run out, on fire and then he would throw himself down. There was a pit outside the camera range and he would go into the pit, they would put him out with fire extinguishers.

 

So he said he got the suit on, he was covered with gasoline, the started the cameras rolling, and they lit him on fire. He said, he ran out the door, but one thing he hadn’t planned on was that he couldn’t see because of the flames he couldn’t hear very well either because the flames were roaring around him. He started to feel hot, and he said he panicked; didn’t know where he was, everything left his head, and just as he was about to completely panic he heard this voice, and it was voice of his stunt teacher. Burt, turn toward my voice, he forgot everything he was supposed to do. But he said in that moment then through this roaring he heard this voice -it was the voice of his teacher. The voice said, Burt turn toward my voice.  He said now Burt listen, take two steps toward my voice, then fall forward, so he did, they got the shot, they put him out and it was all good. But he said  he had never been so happy to hear someone’s voice in his life. Nothing else mattered, everything else was engulfed in flames.

 

Today we get a few flames ourselves from John the Baptizer, and he brings the  voice that we hear through those flames, calling to us to turn toward it, and ultimately to the voice of the one whose way he came to prepare us for.

 

John was a voice was a loud one, crying out in the wilderness and loud one in more ways than one – wearing camel’s hair, living out in the wilderness, eating only locusts and wild honey. He meant to get people’s attention and was in many ways like an OT prophet – pronouncing judgment on a people who had persisted in going the wrong direction, and bringing good news of God’s promise of mercy on them. And preaching repentance, the changing of minds, and turning from our sins. People did turn, from all Judea, all the region of Jordan, all Jerusalem, did confess their sins to him as he baptize them in the Jordan River, and presumably he told them their sins were forgiven.

 

And he was not above deliberately scaring the daylights out of people with threats of judgment and condemnation, with fiery preaching, especially for people like the self-righteous religious authorities – the Pharisees and  Sadducees – hypocrites who he could see – and we see this in our own day – people wanted to jump on the bandwagon and be seen as faithful they but weren’t interested in changing direction. They had too much invested in their own power the way things were.  A nest of snakes, fleeing from God’s wrath, down to the river I suppose, to escape the flames of judgment. Great, scary images – the ax lying at the root of the tree, ready to chop it down if it doesn’t bear good fruit and be thrown into the fire and burned. We think we know what he is talking about.

 

So this voice we hear in Advent meant to grab people, to shock people into a state where they can really listen, to hear his voice yes, and ultimately Jesus’ voice. Which the voice that we really want to hear. After all, John’s message, his purpose was to prepare us for Jesus, to help us prepare ourselves. And to encourage us to let everything else that is not so important, to be washed away, or burned away. And maybe John thought this kind of hellfire preaching was going to save the people. And to be fair, even Jesus once in while used some scary language to cut through the noise and get people to turn toward him and pay attention to his word. Language about sheep and goats being separated, eternal punishment, lakes of fire and gnashing of teeth and all that kind of stuff.

 

But we know and confess Jesus throughout the gospels shows us, by his life and death and resurrection, his servanthood and his sacrifice, that he came to bring life not death. He came to heal, to feed, to forgive, and to love. His own refusal of violence, his willingness to die rather than let that good news go up in smoke shows us that.

 

No the fire that Jesus would baptize with was not the fire of judgment, but the fire of the Spirit that gives faith in God’s mercy and love. It was the fire that came upon the Apostles on Pentecost and gave them the faith they needed to take the gospel to the ends of the earth. It was the fire of passion and courage and sacrifice.

 

That’s the fire that burns away all the unnecessary stuff in our lives, all the chaff all that is unhelpful. All that is judgmental of others, any hate or prejudice, pride – or the self-doubt, despair or fear. That is what dies, it dies on the cross. Anything that gets in the way of our being one with God and with creation and one another – that needs to go. Be burned away.

 

And John, here as we anticipate the coming of the Christ into our lives, he brings that refiner’s fire which leaving only the precious silver that is at the center of who we are in Christ. All of us.

 

This is a good start in preparing the way of the Lord – into our hearts, our lives, our world. Preparing for the Advent of our Lord.