GREAT EXPECTATIONS
Luke 3:7-18
When I was a child of about five or six, I considered God, Jesus and
Santa Claus to be all powerful and all knowing. They could make my
great expectations a reality or they could dash my hopes in the blink
of an eye.
I always thought that the Christmas carol words for "Away in a
Manger" were: "And stay by my cradle till morning is 'night'." I wasn't
familiar with the word "nigh" until I was older. I never asked anyone
why we would want morning to turn back in to night but it really didn't
make any sense to me and I certainly liked morning better than night.
Not as confusing but certainly very scary to me was the Christmas song,
"Santa Claus is Coming to Town." I worried about the part that
went, "He knows when you are sleeping; he knows when you're
awake." It was problematic for me because I often read with a
flashlight under the blankets when I was supposed to be sleeping.
Here was my reasoning and here's why I was so anxious. If God or
Jesus or both were staying by my bed until morning was night, it meant
they were always there because morning was never going to turn into
night. So they both knew what a bad little girl I was -- reading for
hours when I was supposed to be sleeping. And if that wasn't bad
enough, Santa was also there writing it down every time I was reading
when I was supposed to be sleeping. Remember he was making a list and
checking it twice.
I wasn't sure how many times you could mess up before God and Jesus
gave up on you and walked away from your bed and Santa gave presents
only to your brothers.
My great expectations for an overflowing stocking and some wonderful
presents were tempered with the knowledge of my shortcomings.
I had great hope for special gifts but I wasn't sure I deserved nor
would receive anything. As a little girl Pharisee, I was tied to
the letter of the law. Was anything but perfect adherence to the rules
of God, Jesus and Santa acceptable to God and Jesus and Santa?
As John went into all the region around the Jordan River, proclaiming a
baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, all kinds of people
traveled out into the wilderness to hear him -- to hear this voice
crying out in the wilderness. We don't know the exact make-up of
those large crowds. We do know there were people who considered
themselves "children of Abraham" and thus (they thought) guaranteed
immunity from any consequences for their actions. We know there
were people with more than they needed -- two coats and extra
food. We know there were hated tax collectors and
soldiers. There must have been lots of poor people who had
just about given up hope or any great expectations for justice in their
world. There must have been young families with little children
and elderly grandparents. There must have been those who were sick and
lonely and afraid.
And their expectations must have been as varied as their stations in
life.
Some probably came that day just for an outing, curious about this
locust and honey-eating wild man. It might have been a nice day
for a picnic and some entertainment. They didn't come out of
despair and hopelessness seeking a reason for hope nor with great
expectations of anything that would change their lives.
Some probably came, comfortable and confident in their own
status. After all they were descendents of Abraham. They
were the chosen ones. They felt no need to hear anything.
If there was a deep emptiness way down in their hearts, they were
careful not to acknowledge nor show it.
Some probably came not really knowing why they were there.
Perhaps they felt a little uneasy about the way they earned a living
and lived their lives. Perhaps they knew that justice was not
something they thought about very much.
Some probably came out of desperation and despair. They didn't
have much hope nor did they have great expectations. They knew no
justice in their world. They saw people with two coats and extra food
but those people looked right through them and walked right past them.
The message that day probably seemed to be contradictory to that
crowd. Who expects to be called a "brood of vipers" one minute
and then the next told that there is good news? Who expects to be
called to repent in no uncertain terms but at the same time feel not
just hope but great expectations that something good and different just
might be possible?
Those who had ears to hear, heard. Those who didn't ignored the
message. We know some of them heard and understood because they began
to ask: "What then should we do?" "What should we do?" "And we,
what should we do?"
John didn't tell them, "You must obey every law to the letter."
He did not say, "No reading under the blankets even a few times."
He did not say, "You must obey every single law to the nth degree or
you will be abandoned." What he did tell them is that they must
repent. But he didn't stop with that. He told them they
must change their lives. He told them: "Share your food and your
coats and your worldly possessions; treat all people fairly and
justly." He told them that he brought good news. He also made it
very clear that none of this would happen by magic or by a secret
magical formula nor by virtue of their privileged birth. They had
to repent which meant not just seek forgiveness for their sins, but
also to turn their lives around and to live in a new way. They
had to prepare for the coming of the messiah.
It may seem strange but I am comforted by the question in our baptismal
covenant which reads: "Will you persevere in resisting evil, and,
whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?" It
says, "whenever you fall into sin." It does not say, "if you fall
into sin." We all fall into sin and we all, with God's
help, can repent and return to the Lord, living our lives in a new way.
I imagine my brothers also read under the blankets although that
thought never occurred to me then.
As the people were filled with great expectations that day, they began
to ask questions. When the crowds asked John the Baptist, "What should
we do?", he answered them in concrete ways that are just as relevant
for us as they were for the people who gathered in the wilderness that
day.
If we ask, "What should we do?" I think John the Baptist might say this
to us:
"Clean out your pantry and donate not just the
hearts of palm but also those extra cans of soup to the Flint Street
Food Pantry. And don't stop on December 25. Buy more to share in
January. And then, volunteer to help at Flint Street or ECHO or the
Purple House. Share not just your food but your presence with those who
are hungry both for food and for companionship."
If we ask, "What should we do?" I think John the Baptist might
say:
"Take that extra winter coat to the ECHO Thrift
Store or to the Doggie Shop or to the Purple House."
If we ask, "What should we do?" I suspect John the Baptist might
say:
"Open your eyes to the injustice in your world.
Strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity
of every human being."
If we ask, "What should we do?" I think we will hear:
"With all your heart and strength, work to change
hopelessness and despair into hope for God's people. Share the good
news. The fruit of your labor will give birth to great expectations and
those great expectations will become the wonderful reality of the
Good News!
Amen.
The Rev. Betsy Porter
St. James’ Episcopal Church
Eureka Springs, AR
December 13, 2009