Delivered 15 December 2007, the Third Sunday of Advent
Welcome
Good Evening. Welcome to our worship this evening.
The third Sunday in Advent,
the third week of the new year. Again we will take the light of Christ from
the Gospel candle and light the advent wreath, three candles this time. The
third Sunday in Advent is Gaudete Sunday, Joyous Sunday, the day to rejoice
in the middle of this dark and penitential season. Many traditions use three
blue or purple candles plus one rose or pink candle - we don't have one,
but this is the day to rejoice and light the rose candle, as long as you
aren't locked in Herod's dungeon like John is in today's Gospel.
The Lectionary
Isaiah 35:1-10
Psalm 146:5-10
Matthew 11:2-11
The Sermon
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from his son Jesus the Christ, and from the Holy Spirit. Amen
John is at the end of the road, his life is just about over. He came into the world, was called to prophesy to the children of Israel, to call for repentence, to call countless Jews into the river to be baptized. He was the one foretold by Isaiah, prepare ye a highway for our God. He had been adored by the multitude. But he's getting on in years, and he's just hit the wall. The end of the road, the race is over, and he's sitting in a dank cramped cell in Herod's dungeon.
Herod is not a nice man. This is Herod Antipas, one of four sons of Herod the Great. He wasn't a nice man either. Herod the Great wasn't really what we think of as a king, he didn't rule his own country. He was just a lackey for the emperor, not his own man at all, and you can bet he was paranoid and bitter. And the sons? At some point each of them must have figured out that he wasn't going to even be king of all that Herod the Great had ruled, eventually that realm was split four ways. Imagine growing up knowing that you would be more important and rule more land and command more people if your brothers had never been born. Failing that, if one of them just happenned to fall down the stairs and break his neck, well, the kingdom might only get split three ways. And you'd always know that your early death would be seen as really good news to your brothers. If you think the old man was paranoid, imagine the sons! To complicate matters, each of Herod's four sons had a different mother.
But limited as Herod was, as long as the people didn't revolt and the taxes got shipped off to Rome, within his sphere he could do anything he wanted to, and generally did. But when Rome yanked the chain, Herod came running. I know I've told this story before, but it's background to the reading from Matthew.
In this case, Herod Antipas came running, but he stopped to rest at the palace of his half brother Herod Philip, where Herod Antipas fell in love with Herodias, who was Herod Philip's wife, not to mention being a granddaughter of Herod the Great through a third of Herod's sons. Herodias decided it was time to make a change and packed up her household and headed for Judea to move in with Herod Antipas. At the time, Herod Antipas was married to an Arabian princess for political reasons. Herodias didn't bother to divorce Herod Philip, although we understand that Herod Antipas dismissed his previous wife to make room for Herodias and her daughter Salome.
Herod was on thin ice, his paranoia was no delusion. No doubt his brothers would love to see his reign, or his life, come to an end, and might not scruple to bring either or both to pass. The people had no fondness for him. To Rome he was just a blunt instrument, to be discarded when someone better came along. Herodias was in an even less stable position, her power and wealth depended entirely on Herod, and Herod had already turned out one wife and could be expected to do it again as soon as someone more alluring came on the scene. So when John the Baptist publicly railed against Herod's sinful ways, and the bigamy of Herodias, he was slapped in a cell.
Basically, John's life was over. There was no habeous corpus protection, there would be no appeals. There were two chances John would get out of prison, and he had no power to influence either. One possibility was that Herod would be replaced, and the replacement might free John in hopes of making points with the populace. Of course, knowing that his replacement was on the way, Herod was likely to just kill everybody in the dungeon for kicks, so the remote hope of Herod's fall might not have been good for John anyway. The other possibility was that freeing John would embarrass someone that Herod was at odds with, maybe even become a foil to help him get rid of Herodias if some new playmate came on the scene. Absent some dramatic external development, he was as good as dead and the only question was the date. This was not a time for John to be polishing up his resume.
So we find John looking back over his life and his work. He remembered his days in the desert, and the ministry that had slowly gathered a huge following, men and women from the towns of Galilee going out into the dangerous wilderness to hear him demand their repentence. John remembered the dramatic day when he baptized his cousin Jesus. The heavens opened, a spirit like a dove descended, and a voice was heard to proclaim that this Jesus was God's own son. John remembered the scriptures and lore related to Messiah, the one who would gloriously come to take the throne of David and rule the world. And maybe, just maybe, he was wondering why this Jesus hadn't overthrown the Romans, deposed Herod, and set the prisoners free.
John wondered, and he sent his disciples to find out more. That's always bothered me, that one who Herod had dungeoned up for criticizing him could dispatch messengers, but he did. Apparently, Herod was as cheap as he was mean. He had enemies he wanted contained, he provided space in his dungeon for them and guards to watch them. But he didn't feel any need to actually feed them enough to survive, so friends and familes visited constantly. They wouldn't have brought anything really good, the tastiest victuals would certainly be stolen by the guards, but there was traffic in and out. So today's Gospel has John's followers asking Jesus, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"
Jesus made no claims, but told John's disciples to report what they saw. "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, lepers are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor." In other words, "Yes, I am the one the prophets promised."
Then Jesus went on to say that John was the one that Isaiah had promised, the one who would come to prepare the way. The promised prophet, the greatest of all men born of woman. But! But he who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than even John!
And listen to the words of Isaiah proclaiming the wonders of the kingdom of God. "The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom." "Gladness and joy will overtake them, and sorrow and sighing will flee away." The highway we'll travel will be free of risks, "No lion will be there" and "It will be for those who walk in the Way." But then, why is the one who came to prepare the way for Jesus at the end of his road?
John was not the only one called to prepare the way, the church also has a highway to prepare. It starts right here. The onramp runs through the waters of baptism, the same first step that John's followers took. You'll note we've prepared by having a nice clean carpet leading up to it. And then we go on to the table, where the paving stones around this altar are firm, well fitted, secure. And at that table we eat the bread of life. But beyond that? The cross. A shameful death. The end. We go from the font to the table to the cross which hangs on that wall. We hit the wall.
We hit the wall. Our flesh fails, the undertaker closes the lid. Our friends gather one last time. It's the end of the road. That is, it's the end of the road if we forget that God's ways are not our ways. The psalmist did not say that the roads we travel in this life will be six lanes wide, straight as an arrow, free of hills, sheltered from all bad weather, devoid of tempting exits, and the occasional lion or ferocious beast is still a risk.
On God's highway, what looks to us to be the end is a new beginning. For the Romans, the cross was the most painful and shameful death, for us it is the passage to glory. The parched land will be glad, the crocus will burst into bloom. Then we, even if we are the least among the kingdom of heaven, will be greater than John or the prophets that came before him. Then we will walk past a desert turned to lush growth. We will sing as we enter Zion.
Isaiah prepared the way for John and for Jesus, but in human terms he died. John prepared the way for Jesus, and at Salome's whim his head was given to a wicked woman who didn't want her sins talked about. Jesus prepared the way for us, and he ended up nailed to a cross. And then they all sang as they entered the gates of heaven.
For most of two thousand years the church of Jesus Christ has prepared the way for God's children, and for two thousand years before that the synagogues had done the same. Sometimes it has been glorious, sometimes struggling, sometimes in error, but the church has not forgotton the call that John heard, to prepare the way of the Lord. In this place we worship openly, we teach the gospel in classes, we sing God's praises. In other places, the church is whispering in dark corners, passing the story on, but always preparing the way. Parents set an example, give thanks before meals, bring their children to Sunday School, preparing the way.
Sometimes we are lost, sometimes we stumble. Dear God, please let's not count the times I've been too cowardly, too busy, too selfish to show someone your way. We stray, but through the spirit and through the loving hands of those around us we are nudged back onto the Lord's highway.
Herod the Great was not the first bad man, and Herod Antipas was not the last. There will be bad people and bad times. Bad things will happen and deflect us. But always the road goes on, we shoulder our burdens, and with halting steps, continue down the road.
Until we accept the cross and meet our death in this life, the road prepared for us is not easy, but the one we prepare for others is easier. Prison or death is not the end of the road. When we accept the cross, when the hour is right to meet death and go beyond it, then we shall walk a road like no other. There will be no more blindness or deafness, there will be neither hunger, nor thirst. We will need no prophecy or faith, for we will be surrounded by the glory of the Lord, we will see the splendor of our God.
This is what we call Good News. This is the Gospel of the Lord. Amen.