Introduction
Have you ever
realized – and embraced – the baffling fact that sometimes we can hold two
opposing and even contradictory truths together in our mind at the same time? Some call it paradox; others say irony. In some spiritual traditions they speak of
this as mysticism or a living encounter with the heart of the Lord; while others
consider any such a notion as theologically absurd or at best highly
inconsistent and irrational.
· So let me
ask you again: have you ever
realized – and then embraced – the fact that we often hold together two
opposing and even contradictory truths at the same time?
· Think
about it: I love my dogs but
sometimes want to kill them, right? I
cherish time with my children and also rejoice when they head back to their own
homes, too. I know I need to lose weight
and still eat another pumpkin scone.
· Going
deeper we might say things like: I
honor my country and its traditions but sometimes detest the things we do as a
nation. Or I am opposed to the wars of
invasion in the Middle East but still support our troops. Maybe you’ve even thought something like
this: I celebrate the beauty and grace of the church but am saddened and angry
when she acts stupid or cruel.
In the liturgy of
Holy Communion we sometimes confess:
Christ has died – Christ has risen – Christ will come again. The Bible speaks of the Word made Flesh, the
marriage of heaven and earth, believers who are IN the world but not OF the
world. And it is always both/and –
realizing and embracing the
paradox – rather than demanding one or the other.
· Ok, what is it:
the Word OR the Flesh? Come on,
make up your mind and tell me the truth:
has Christ died or risen –
and what are you talking about when you say he will come again?
· Well, in our own ordinary lives as well as our
journey by faith we’re talking about truths and experiences that stretch us –
that call us deeper – and invite us to live in ways that are more profound than
the obvious.
On the second Sunday
of Advent this is expressed in the challenge of the prophets – Malachi and the
Baptist – who speak of having our impurities refined by God’s fire, living in
ways that document our repentance and having our souls cleansed by the Lord’s
judgment:
In the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
the crooked shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth…
Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
the crooked shall be made straight and the rough ways made smooth…
And here’s the
paradox: most Americans believe that we
can do this judging and sorting – this purifying and refining and changing –
all by ourselves when, in fact, it can only come from God. This is where we come up against the
“realize AND embrace” part of Advent, you see; because no matter how hard we
try, we can never heal or forgive ourselves.
Grace comes from the Lord, not our own efforts – and this contradicts
and confronts almost everything we’ve ever learned as Americans.
Insights
Most of us have
been trained to believe that if we work hard enough – and act good enough – and
do mostly the right things in life, then we will be rewarded. We teach this to our children, it is what we
learned in social studies and it is often how we evaluate our politicians. At the heart of the American dream, you see,
is the belief that not only do we control our own destiny, but that if we work hard
enough – and apply enough reason – then good things will happen: rags can become riches, Abraham Lincoln or
Barrack Obama can become President, we can buy whatever we need to be happy,
Dorothy will find her way home from Oz if only she has enough faith in herself,
good can overcome evil and science will find a cure for cancer. Am I being clear?
Just think out loud
with me for a moment about some of the most successful movies and television
programs in American culture:
· The Sound of Music, Forrest Gump, Pretty Woman,
Braveheart, Raiders of the Lost Ark and all the Disney movies old and
contemporary: they all are melodramas
about how individuals triumph over harsh realities and make a new life for
themselves by working hard and thinking right.
They all close with a happy ending where people live happily ever after.
· Most TV shows do the same thing: Dallas, Desperate Housewives, NCIS, Grey’s
Anatomy – as I child I loved Gunsmoke and Rawhide – and my young family always
watched Cosby and Family Ties – and they were all melodramas, too.
Now hear me
out: I’m not saying that there aren’t more
ambiguous and complex movies or television programs – clearly this year the
Batman/Dark Knight film falls into that category as would tv shows like Mad Men
and the Sons of Anarchy – and I’m not saying that hard work and clear thinking
doesn’t matter because it does. Rather,
I’m talking about the dominant story of our culture and how it trains us into
believing that we can control everything and fix whatever is broken.
·
I can’t tell you how many heart-sick people I
have visited over the years who tell me things like: I don’t know why this is happening to me –
I’ve done everything right – eaten well, paid my taxes, loved my family and
exercised religiously. How come I got…
cancer – or HIV/AIDS – or a heart attack two weeks after I retired? How come I lost my job – my home – my
children – my lover? For the love of
Jesus I’m a good person why is this happening to me?
· Well the truth of the matter is I have no idea
why you are sick – or suffering – or terrified – or addicted. All I know is that trusting just the American
story isn’t big enough to deal with all the harsh, mystifying and complex realities
of our lives. No, for the fullness of
our lives, we need God and God’s grace – because only God can bring understanding
to our confusion – and only God can bring us the peace we need in our
suffering.
Most of the time,
beloved, we can’t fix what is hurting – that can only come from the Lord – and
that is part of what this second week in Advent is all about: it is an invitation to recognize and embrace
those wilderness parts of our lives that we need God to make straight and plain
and peaceful.
· The prophets for this day tell us to prepare a
way for the Lord, ok? They don’t say,
“Try and DO the Lord’s work. Make every
effort to cleanse thyself of sin and purify thy own hearts of fear.”
·
Not at all:
That is neither what John the Baptist is all about nor Malachi either.
They come to us as messengers challenging us to get ready: open your hearts – recognize your broken
places – own the fact that you can’t fix yourself and let go of your addiction
to the American story long enough for God’s grace to wash over you with
forgiveness.
So think about
it: if we’re paying attention, the
Biblical story in Advent invites us to open our hearts by faith to the birth of
both John the Baptist and Jesus the Christ Child. Two vulnerable children set down in the midst
of Rome’s empire who are ignored by most of the world but who changed
everything for ever. Preacher David Lose
puts it like this:
“(The Biblical
vision and story tells of) two children who will grow
up to change the world, it speaks of how an instrument of Roman torture was turned
into the means by which God reconciles the world unto God’s own self… it is always
something of the mustard-seed that creeps in, unawares, small and
insignificant, until it grows and spreads, infesting whole fields and inviting
all kinds of creatures to take refuge in its branches.”
So Luke makes the outrageous claim that God is at work in the weak
and small – babies and barren women and unwed teenage mothers and wild-eyed
prophets and itinerant preachers and executed criminals – who will change the
world. And, to be quite honest, (the story goes on to say that) God’s not done
yet. God continues to work through unlikely characters today – unpopular teens
and out-of-work adults and corporate executives and stay-at-home parents and
underpaid secretaries and night-shift workers and police officers and volunteer
baseball coaches and even burned out preachers – all of whom can announce the
news of God’s redemption…
…when God empowers us be grace to act in faith.
The discipline of the second Sunday in Advent is spend less –
spend less money so you avoid debt, spend less on things you don’t need so you
have more resources to care for those you love – and that’s the obvious
part. The deeper discipline is
this: spend less time trying to control
things so that there is more room for trusting the Lord.
Jesus once taught his disciples this truth in the Sermon on the
Mount when he said:
You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of
you there is more of God and his rule… You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost
what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to
you… and you’re blessed when you’re content with just
who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud
owners of everything that can’t be bought.
I am so grateful
God comes to us in this unexpected, small and often irrelevant story that
challenges the melodrama of my culture.
I don’t know about you, but I need this kind of God who loves what is
broken and worthless and forgotten – it gives me hope – and maybe could be good
news for you, too.
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