“No more of this!” Jesus’ way is love for enemies, healing of relationships, ending of violence and hatred.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Second Sunday of Advent, year A
Texts: Isaiah 11:1-10; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

“No more of this!” Jesus cried out.

The night of Jesus’ arrest and trial, Peter slashed someone’s ear off to defend Jesus. Jesus wanted none of it. “No more of this,” he said, and healed the man’s ear.

I believe Jesus would say the same to John the Baptist after these harsh words. John did good things. He pointed to Jesus as Messiah. He suggested helpful, concrete actions for how to turn toward God in repentance. But this speech? It’s hate-filled, inflammatory, without nuance.

And, with all due respect to John, Jesus’ way has nothing to do with it.

But you tell me: do you really think we need more public leaders defaming whole groups?

Haven’t we already had enough of insults, of assuming evil intent, of calling for destruction? A president who this week called his own citizens “garbage,” “worthless,” “criminals” because they came from Somalia? Who sees one immigrant do a bad thing and screams hateful words seeking to ban all immigrants, including friends dear to this congregation? Aren’t you tired of hate-filled rhetoric that doesn’t see human beings, but publicly insults, offers demeaning stereotypes, invites violence?

But this is John the Baptist, you might say. He’s preparing the way for Messiah. He’s on the right side. And after all, it’s the Pharisees and the Sadducees. They likely deserved it.

Are you sure? Are you certain every single Pharisee and Sadducee of this time deserved to be called snakes and threatened with destruction, with being cut off from Abraham’s family? What about Nicodemus? Joseph of Arimathea?

And Matthew says these Pharisees and Sadducees came for John’s baptism. He doesn’t say they came to judge or critique. They apparently came for the same reason others did – for baptism of repentance. Yet John assumes they’re all wicked, all have ulterior motives? This seems wrong.

Don’t take my word for it. Listen to Jesus, the Messiah John means to prepare us for:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:43-45)

That’s Jesus’ way for you to deal with people you don’t trust, your enemies. Not with hate and violent threats. With love and prayer.

Listen to Isaiah. When Messiah comes, a wolf will share sleeping quarters with a lamb, and so will a leopard with a baby goat. Cows will eat alongside lions, who’ve learned to eat grass instead of meat. Babies will play with vipers, not condemn them in rage. “No one will hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain,” God says.

That’s the way of Christ Jesus calls you to follow.

Until we can say again and again, “no more of this!” to the way of hate, we won’t find Christ’s reign. All our self-righteous posturing that makes John’s speech – or our speech – OK because it’s on the “right” side, is worthless.

Isaiah claims this peaceable reign of God will come with Messiah. And that’s now, not in a distant future, because Messiah is here. Jesus means “no more of this” with as much intensity as he can muster, means that loving enemies and praying for them right now is the only path to God’s reign.

Paul deeply wants his Roman people to live this.

There’s great conflict in these congregations, Jewish Christians against Gentile Christians. They’re calling names, rejecting fellowship. The unity of Christ’s family is falling apart. And Paul wants none of it.

Paul believes Isaiah’s promise is now, that adversaries are meant to live in love with each other in Christ. That the way of Christ embraces all together, including those who know they’re right with God and that’s why they don’t like the others.

Paul astonishingly claims today that Jesus both came as a Jew to confirm the promises to the Jewish ancestors, and also, also, so that Gentiles might “glorify our merciful God.” Gentiles aren’t an add-on after the fact, they’re part of God’s plan from the beginning, which Paul underscores with four Scripture quotes.

So, when Paul says “welcome one another, just as Christ has welcomed you,” he’s talking to two groups who increasingly can’t stand each other but whom Christ has put together, saying, “you were and are welcomed by Christ. Your only path is to welcome each other. Love each other. Take care of each other.”

John thinks preparing the way for Messiah means chopping down all fruitless ones and throwing them in the fire.

Jesus wants nothing to do with Peter’s sword or John’s ax. Jesus says, “I’ll dig around that tree, put some manure on it, care for it a bit. Maybe that will bring fruit.” John prejudges whole groups of people and deems them expendable because he doesn’t see their fruit. Jesus sees individual beloved children of God worthy of all attention and care, and hopes to nurture each one to bear fruit.

The difference is huge for us. The rhetoric of hate and insult, the stereotyping, goes both ways. We’re often as guilty as any. Just because we think we’re on the “right” side doesn’t make it right. Until you and I believe Jesus meant this new, peaceable reign to start here and now, act on that, bear that fruit, and abandon the idea that if we think we’re in the right, whatever anger and hatred we have for others is justified, until we do this, the world will continue in suffering.

Again, don’t take my word for it. Jesus is very clear.

Jesus believes his way will bring healing, hope, and life to the world, that if we trust him enough to follow this path, things will change. Now, there’s no promise this healing, this peaceable reign, will come easily. No promise that the enemy you pray for and learn to love will reciprocate. You might lie down with a wolf and get hurt. Jesus knows exactly how that feels.

But in Christ Jesus is all the love of God you know, all the hope you have for life here and life to come, all the joy of knowing you are in God’s heart forever. Christ has the words of abundant life for you and for all. Where else would you go?

And if this path really leads to the healing of all things, do you really want to miss that?

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

Wake up and be the Christ you are made to be, for the healing of the world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The First Sunday of Advent, year A
Texts: Romans 13:11-14; Matthew 24:36-44; Isaiah 2:1-5

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Let’s talk about “woke.”

The term describes people awakening to their privilege, implicit biases and prejudices, and facing them. Realizing what people other than themselves experience, whether racism or sexism or abuse or oppression or poverty, or anything else, as well as their institutional aspects.

“Woke” has become a term of derision and mockery among many who can’t be bothered to face anything different than their own experience, beliefs and practices, who lack the imagination to step outside their tiny, limited minds and lives and see the world from another’s perspective, and act on that vision.

So we probably need to let go of the word “woke.” It’s beyond redeeming in our culture.

Fine. Let’s use Jesus’ word. Awake. Keep awake, Jesus says. It’s time to wake up from sleep, Paul says. And apparently for Paul and Jesus, hitting the snooze bar on your alarm is the last thing you should do.

This metaphor makes so much sense.

At this point in my life I wake up several times in the night. Sometimes, once awake, my body at this age says, “as long as you’re awake, you could probably use the bathroom.” I don’t turn any lights on, I go, and as I get back into bed, I tap my watch to show the time. It’s a moment of truth. If it flashes 1:45, or 3:32, I relax in relief. I can go back to sleep. I’ve got hours before the six o’clock alarm. Some days I’ll even hit the snooze bar after the alarm and blissfully stay in the dark.

Paul and Jesus say that when that happens in my life of faith that’s a problem. I’m too often breathing a sigh of relief and going back to sleep. I’ll ponder whether I’m ready to get going on what Christ is calling me to do, on what I see out there in the world, and think, “I’ve got more time. No need to act now.” Even if the alarm goes off, I can buy another 9 minutes, or the equivalent in real time avoidance of serving as Christ in a world in desperate need.

I must not be the only one. Christians can’t hear Isaiah today without doing it.

It’s an amazing promise that in days to come all will come to God’s mountain and God’s word will spread to all nations, making a massive change in how people live with each other. Whole countries will take their weapons of war and melt them down and make tools for feeding the world’s people.

And we hear this and say, “won’t that day be wonderful? When it happens.” We push this promise into an unknown future day when God comes to fix all things. We’ll do it with the reading we’ll hear next week, too, the peaceable reign of God where wolf lies with lamb and babies happily play with venomous snakes. Won’t that be wonderful when that day comes?

But that’s just hitting the snooze bar. Looking at your watch and going back to sleep. Nothing in Isaiah says this is some unreachable future. “In days to come” could mean tomorrow. Next week. For people who are Christ in the world, those days to come are now. It’s time to wake up, Paul says. Get out of bed. Start bearing God’s word of peace and love and wholeness into the world. Because it’s the spread of God’s word of life, Isaiah says, that leads individuals and even nations to things like disarmament and to focusing energy on feeding, sheltering, healing.

But maybe that work seems too much for us to handle, that’s why we stay in bed.

Here’s another truth of my sleeping. Most of my adult life, since college, I’ve had anxiety dreams from time to time. In college, the dream was that the final exam had started, and I was nowhere near the place. I also was completely unprepared, I hadn’t studied at all. And I was often missing some key pieces of clothing. Usually pants.

Since I’ve been a pastor, the dream is the same, just different details. Now the service has already started, I haven’t prepared a sermon. I’m usually a long way away from the nave, and as always, I’m missing clothes. Still pants, a lot, though now sometimes it’s missing robes, and I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt at the door of the church as the procession is about to start.

It doesn’t take a genius to see what my brain is doing. It’s painting a vivid picture of an inner anxiety that I’m not prepared to do my job, I’m not ready, I’m running out of time. Now, my anxiety dreams always end with me waking up and realizing I have days till the thing, I’ve got time to be ready. I know my job, and I can do it. I can go back to sleep.

But our anxiety about waking up as Christ, about being able to do what needs doing for Christ in this world never really goes away. Even awake, we realize we’re not terribly confident that we can do anything to make a difference in this world, to be a part of God’s coming into the world in Christ for hope and healing.

So, Paul refocuses that anxiety and just talks about how you live in the light.

Being awake is walking decently in the day, he says, with three pairs of behaviors that aren’t part of that.

The first is reveling and drunkenness. Paul says if you’re awake you don’t escape reality by masking it, hiding it. Doing all the things we find ourselves addicted to that keep us from looking at the world as it is and facing that world. Whether media, entertainment, or even real chemical addictions, we find ourselves trapped in avoidance. It makes us feel good and we don’t have to worry about not doing our Christly work.

The second pair is illicit sex and licentiousness. This is more than Paul being prudish. Paul says we need to look at how we shape our lives and priorities for our own pleasure, at the expense of others. Is your highest goal what pleases you, rewards you? We can’t live lives focused on pleasure while others aren’t even able to live.

The third pair is quarrelling and jealousy. If you’re going to be awake, avoid the in-fighting in your community and family, Paul says, watch your tendency to distract yourself from what needs doing by disagreement and conflict. Our ability to get angry about something important can wake us up. But it also can become the focus, where we stay in the anger, blame others for the world’s problems, and never quite get to doing something about them.

Paul doesn’t say anything about your ability to be Christ. Neither does Jesus.

They both seem to think being awake and alert is enough to do what’s needed.

Because when you’re awake, Paul says, you put on the Lord Jesus Christ, clothe yourself in the goodness and healing of God in Christ. You are a washed, baptized child of God, you have been anointed as Christ, wrapped in Christ. You are the next coming of Christ the world is waiting for. Flawed, anxious, feeling unskilled, it doesn’t matter. This is what you and I were anointed to be and do.

So stay awake. Resist the snooze bar. Avoid Paul’s distractions and Jesus’ complacency. Wake up and let Christ fill you and hold you and clothe you as you go out as a child of the light for the sake of a world wrapped in the shadows of fear and hopelessness. And in you, Christ’s light will shine.

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