SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT -- 09 DECEMBER 2007

ST PAUL LUTHERAN CHURCH, ABQ NM -- The Rev. P. L. Holman

Isaiah 11:1-10, Psalm 72:1-7, 18-19; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

"Prepare this way"

There is so much joy in preparing for Christmas: the food, the gifts, the gatherings and the wonder of lights amidst ever darkening skies. So much joy -- unless there's a vacant place at the table, a brokenness tearing at your heart, an economic burden straining your backbone, or an anger eroding your spirit. Prepare the way John cries, but who is listening? Who can hear over the din of advertisements and hype, over the chaos of busyness and brokenness? Prepare this way.

Author Sue Monk Kidd wrote, "Stopping is a spiritual art. It is the refuge where we drink life in." Stop with me for a moment in the midst of this

Advent busyness to drink from Isaiah's vision of hope -- let's see what we can take in about the way God longs for us to prepare: [scripture in italics is from Eugene Peterson's translation, THE MESSAGE]

A green shoot will sprout from Jesse's stump… The life-giving Spirit of God will hover over him, the Spirit that brings wisdom and understanding, the Spirit that gives direction and builds strength, the Spirit that instills knowledge and Fear-of God. Fear- of-God will be all his joy and delight.

The first plant I ever tended was a dieffenbachia -- my mother-in-law was repotting hers, and gave me a chunk of the stem. "Just lay it down in a pie-pan of water; when it begins to sprout put it in soil." Yeah, right…. But I did, and it worked! I was amazed to see such a tall plant grow from virtually nothing. God makes something out of nothing all the time -- God IS possibility.

Isaiah's words honored the earthly king -- they celebrated the ideal ruler. Those of us who live this side of the resurrection hear baptismal imagery in those words -- the sevenfold gifts of the Spirit, we call them, gifts given to live faithfully as a steward of God's creation. We reach back to Isaiah to bring hope forward for the living of these days. We have the power to change, to live into something more than the armed conflicts and poverty, the nature deficit disorder and relationship deficit disorder that so plague our lives. In the face of the world's power it is hard to trust that we do have the power we need to prepare a new way. Isaiah's words, transformed in Christ, give hope to all creation.

He won't judge by appearance, won't decide on the basis of hearsay. He'll judge the needy by what is right, render decisions on earth's poor with justice…Each morning he'll pull on sturdy work clothes and boots, and build righteousness and faithfulness in the land.

The one who leads us on the way is not a leader sitting on a gilded throne, or even an oval office steeped in national heritage and political control. This side of the cross those who manifest God's will are at work in the trenches, in striped overalls on the tractor, in protective gear racing to a fire or orange vest at the highway construction site; this one is teaching with integrity in the university or caring with compassion in the home. This one can judge by what is right because she is no stranger to life. He knows very well what is wrong. They have a living knowledge of and trust in what is possible with God.

And what is possible with God embraces all that seems impossible for us, and more:

The wolf will romp with the lamb, the leopard sleep with the kid.

But for now we build bus stop cages to protect our children from roaming grey wolves, and cringe at story after story of human child predators in our midst.

Calf and lion will eat from the same trough, and a little child will tend them.

But for now even folks of the same denomination won't eat together, Lutherans separated by words and tradition, Episcopalians splitting over doctrine and power -- all the while there is a great harvest of souls longing to be welcomed, longing to be tended to with compassion, forgiveness, love.

The nursing child will crawl over rattlesnake dens, the toddler stick his hand down the hole of a serpent. Neither animal nor human will hurt of kill on my holy mountain.

But for now we struggle to protect children from themselves, and watch in horror as yet another one deprived of a consistent, nurturing home life "snaps" and in a moment takes the lives of 8 unsuspecting folks and then his own. We listen absently as the accounts of suicide bombings and friendly fire deaths come across our airwaves -- absently until someone we know is touched and then the danger and sense of powerlessness become all too real.

The whole earth will be brimming with knowing God-Alive, a living knowledge of God ocean-deep, ocean-wide.

Isaiah's image of the peaceable kingdom is a word of HOPE -- it’s no more a vision of Israel's reality then than it is real for us now. I think that's what John the Baptist was shouting about when he attacked the religious leaders who came to the river. You're only coming because it's the thing to do, John says. This isn't going to help you -- no water on your snake skins will make any difference. You have to open up and change from within. You want to glimpse the peaceable kingdom? You must take some risks. Set aside your agendas, your secrets and your empty promises. Open yourself to being transformed, and live into hope.

Corey Nelson is a mission educator who teaches people about global worship in the local church. He invites people into real life experiences of opening up to hope. Once he planned a worship experience centering on the "Canticle of the Turning" -- the hymn Pastor Jason has chosen for his installation this afternoon, a hymn based on the Advent message Mary sang after she said yes to God's call. "Before we sang, we gathered in a circle to pray for Northern Ireland…. [Earlier] I had made…arrangements to have a telephone set up … [so before we prayed w]e called … a [long-term Presbyterian] missionary in Belfast [who]…joined us by speaker phone and shared the latest news and prayer concerns with us." Then, joined by the missionary, the group prayed -- for the missionaries, the country and its people, and even their own church and its blindness to pain. When the prayer ended there wasn't a dry eye in the gathering. They sang the hymn, Nelson reports, with a passion and energy not experienced before. Turn to one another -- turn and be changed. Against great odds, experience the peaceable kingdom.

Over the past 20 years I have come to treasure the rare times I find to meditate in silence. It's a gift I discovered in seminary. So I eagerly signed up last year for a clergy spiritual retreat that included a 30 hour block of silence. I was intrigued: silent alone, not a problem; but in a group? Others in my group of 9 people came with different expectations, a few, I learned after the fact, with some degree of fear. During our time of silence we were encouraged to make eye contact -- silence doesn't preclude that. And we were expected to eat meals together -- silence doesn't preclude eating together, either. At lunch I sat by Ed. We passed the food and ate in silence, glancing at one another on occasion, motioning for condiments or refills as needed. It worked quite well, actually. All of a sudden a potato chip landed on my plate. I looked up -- Ed clearly was the culprit. I don't think he did it on purpose -- he looked a bit embarrassed. But in a spontaneous gesture I picked up that chip and flicked it back at him. [Now, I know playing with food is not polite, but under the circumstances it felt like a great way to release the tension the silence seemed to create.] He smiled, and then tears began welling up in his eyes. I was confused. Hours later, when the silence was lifted, Ed explained: during the Viet Nam war Ed had been the "guest" of North Korea for 90 days. As a POW along with several other U.S. soldiers he was held in isolation except for meals, when although sitting at the same table they were strictly forbidden to speak or even look at one another, under threat of severe punishment. It was a terrible memory….a memory redeemed in the flicking of the chip. Ed's memories of those days will live forever, yet in the sharing the silence was transformed into gift.

In this season of Advent we are called to prepare the way, to make room in our lives for the Spirit's work. This isn't bulldozer work; it is not a making straight by the power of dynamite. It is rather a step by step making straight, a step by step opening up to the newness God desires for you and for me. Prepare the earth, one recycling/renewing/reusing effort at a time. Prepare your body, one habit or pound or exercise regimen at a time. Prepare your household, one caring, sharing act at a time. Prepare your relationships, one day at a time. The path God calls us to follow is a path that's lived into step by step -- a path followed intentionally through all the changes and chances of Life, this God-with-us life. If we each took one step today in the direction God desires -- a step toward wellness, one step toward reconciliation, a step toward justice for the earth, one step toward justice for the needy -- the Spirit would have all sorts of room to work her transforming power, to effect the welcome and the Wisdom that is Emmanuel – God with us.

One step, even today.

Come, Lord Jesus.