Long ago on this night, shepherds looked to the heavens and were given a sign from God. 47 years ago, we were much like them with our eyes turned towards the heavens, or at least to our televisions, as we heard the first Christmas Eve greeting from outer space. The crew of Apollo 8 was in orbit around the moon this night in 1968.
While we look around us today and see a world in turmoil, it is easy to forget that we’ve experienced upheaval before – and 1968 was no exception. In January, the Tet Offensive began in Vietnam and by February we were involved in a full scale war there. In April, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated and riots erupted across the cities of our nation. Two months later, presidential candidate Bobby Kennedy was also assassinated and riots broke out at the 1968 Democratic National Convention. But on Christmas Eve 1968, Apollo 8, the first manned mission to the moon, entered lunar orbit. Commander Frank Borman, Command Module Pilot Jim Lovell, and Lunar Module Pilot William Anders became the first humans to orbit the moon, and the first astronauts to spend Christmas in space. To mark the occasion, they sent Christmas greetings and live images of the moon back to their home planet and read from the Book of Genesis. It was estimated that as many as one billion people worldwide watched the historic broadcast or listened on the radio. As the world looked at images of the Earth and the moon seen from Apollo 8, Jim Lovell said, “The vast loneliness is awe-inspiring and it makes you realize just what you have back there on Earth.” They ended the broadcast with these words. William Anders said, “For all the people on Earth the crew of Apollo 8 has a message we would like to send you. In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, ‘Let there be light:’ and there was light. And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.” Jim Lovell read next, “And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day. And God said, ‘Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.’ And God made the firmament, and divided the waters, which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so. And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.” Frank Borman read, “And God said, ‘Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear:’ and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth; and the gathering together of the waters called he Seas: and God saw that it was good.” Borman then added, “And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas, and God bless all of you – all of you on the good Earth.” In that moment, we were reminded of something very important. We were reminded that regardless of the upheaval, violence, and fear surrounding us that we were all together on the good Earth. An Earth so good and a creation so loved that God slipped in quietly through this cleft in history 2,000 years ago to be one of us … on the good Earth. And God did so in the person of Jesus who we remember this night as a vulnerable, helpless baby reminding us that God in Christ gets us. This news doesn’t come to the high and mighty – the Herods, the Quiriniuses, or the Caesars. This news comes to, well, lowlifes first! Shepherds were held in quite low regard in first century Palestine and the message of God's radical inbreaking comes to the ones we don't expect. When the shepherds go to Bethlehem and see this thing which had been made known to them … they found ... a very ordinary looking couple and a very ordinary looking tiny baby. Yet, looking into that baby’s eyes they saw themselves in a fully human child who would save them. In the eyes of the Christ child all of humanity was there and in all of humanity something of this child would be present too. In that mutual gaze between the Christ child and the shepherds lay the hope of the world … the hope for this good Earth and all who live in it. They then return home praising God for all they had heard and seen. These shepherds and the three astronauts who greeted us from space this night experienced a transformation. Their experiences moved them to see beyond the ordinary to the extraordinary … to see a glimpse of the Divine. When you can see beyond the eyes of a baby and see the face of God and when you glimpse the good Earth from God’s perspective, you then can see the face of God in the eyes of others. And when you can see beyond the surface and see Christ in the other and in all creation, you can never forget who God is. From the farthest reaches of space to the dirt under the feet of shepherds, God is, was, and will always be there no matter what. God has not given up on us no matter the circumstances of our lives or of this world. God came for us this night many years ago as a baby and on this night he still comes to us in bread and wine … and in the faces of all God’s beloved. The Christ child invites you this night to see beyond the obvious and through to the extraordinary … that we may bear the light of Christ to all … all of us on the good Earth. Today is Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent. Gaudete is Latin for “Rejoice!” and nothing says rejoice like John the Baptist shouting “you brood of vipers!” Yeah … that’s what I think of when I hear the word “rejoice!” Last week John appeared on the scene and this week he’s tearing up the homiletical field. This is as good old-fashioned “hellfire and brimstone” at its best! He’s telling them to turn around and don’t think you can just rest on the cred of some long dead ancestor named Abraham – you’ll be held to account for you sin!
Now admittedly, the “turn or burn hellfire and brimstone” style isn’t usually what you hear in a proper Episcopal Church, is it? And let’s face it, ad hominem attacks like calling the crowd a “brood of vipers” just doesn’t get you very far in seminary homiletics class. I mean … that label alone is a flip on the “your momma” put downs … because, if you’re a brood of vipers, your momma is a snake! And we know how much snakes are loved in Hebrew Scriptures, right? I always imagine John the Baptist in a modern seminary homiletics class giving this sermon and afterwards the professor saying, "Um ... let's go back to your opening there John ... 'brood of vipers' ... would you like to unpack that?" Seriously ... this just isn't how preaching is done these days. But did you notice the reaction of the crowd? I mean, John just called them an epithet and ranted about their sin of blindness and pride … and what is the crowd’s reaction? You'd think they would be reaching for some rotten fruit to throw at him, wouldn't you? But they don't! They ask what they should do. Let that sink in for just a moment. They ask "What should we do?" Like many other liturgical churches, we use a lectionary which is a cycle of designated readings from Scripture. The Jewish rabbis have a similar schedule through their liturgical year – it’s not unique to Christianity. But because we have a lectionary, I don’t get to pick and choose what texts I want to preach on … they are set for me. That means I have to deal with and try to illuminate texts that frankly make people mad at some point or another. I was on Facebook this week commiserating with a few colleagues about complaints we get when we preach: “too liberal,” “too conservative,” “you’re a socialist,” “stop shoving the Bible down our throats,” “Jesus didn’t really say that,” “I’m cutting my pledge” … yep, we’ve pretty much heard it all. What these complaints point to, though, is our very human reaction to hearing the Gospel crash into our carefully crafted ego. We all stand in the place of being convicted by the Gospel as falling short of the mark. Whether it’s our world view, or our values, or our habits – we all sin and fall short of the glory of God and we are convicted. So when we hear a disturbing message or don’t like what the preacher says our first reaction is usually to lash out at the preacher, question their credentials, claim they don’t know the Bible, or call the senior warden to complain. I confess, prior to ordination, I did it too … I guess being on the receiving end is poetic justice. John’s Gospel tells us even Jesus lost most of his followers after he preached about eating his flesh and drinking his blood. The natural human reaction is to defend the ego at all costs rather than listen to how the Gospel is convicting us. That sounds harsh, but remember: the Gospel convicts us not to condemn us but to convert us. But the crowd in today’s reading doesn’t react defensively. They don’t let their egos get in the way. They want to know what they should do and this is where it gets real. John gives them a plan of wealth redistribution! If you have two coats, give one away. Yeah … and I opened up my coat closet this week and BAM! I was hit with how many coats I had that I don’t even wear anymore! I was guilty of missing the mark (and for the record, we made a serious Goodwill donation this week … coats and all). Luke then tells us two specific groups of people asking John what they should do: tax collectors and soldiers. Both of these groups were officials serving the Roman government. The tax collectors were Jewish. The Romans used locals as their tax collecting agents because locals knew the neighborhood and who lived there. They were hated as traitors because they collected not just the tax owed, but would shake down their fellow Jews for more than what was owed and pocketed the rest (which Roman law allowed). John tells them to stop defrauding people and only collect what is owed. The soldiers were Romans – hated by the Jews as part of the occupying force who could take whatever they wanted by force. John tells them not to commit extortion by threats or false accusations, essentially stop blackmailing the people, and be satisfied with your wages. These encounters tell us that John’s message wasn’t just for Jews; it was for the whole world. Economic justice is a part of God’s plan of salvation, we all have a part in it and we can’t rest on our laurels and think just because we’re saved that we won’t face judgment: a hard teaching indeed. Advent is the time when we focus on the end of all things as well as the reality that each of us will die. It’s also a time where we focus on the radical nature of what the coming of Christ really is all about. It’s about the total conversion of our hearts and souls, claimed by Christ in baptism, that we may be fully united with God. Divine union is the goal and we don’t get that on our terms. It comes on God’s terms … and it means, like the tax collector, the soldier and the crowd, we are going to be expected to change. This conversion will mean that there are things we will be asked to leave behind – beliefs, world views, values … all that is constructed by our egos has to be set aside so that Christ can enter our hearts and make us new. It doesn’t always feel good – in fact it usually feels pretty lousy when God rips out our hearts of stone and replaces them with hearts of flesh. But it is necessary if we are to be serious about following Christ rather than just admiring him from the sidelines. So when you hear the equivalent of “you brood of vipers” and the hackles on the back of your neck stand up, remember you have a choice. You can choose to defend your ego … or … you can see these signs of ego stress as the Holy Spirit’s invitation to conversion and a deeper intimacy with Christ. Maybe it’s time to ask God, “What should I do?” and ask for the grace and courage to do it. |
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October 2017
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Grace Episcopal Church
114 East A Street Brunswick, MD 21716 |
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