Preached at All Saints, Collingwood, Anglican Diocese of Toronto, 15 December, 2024, the Third Sunday of Advent.
Texts for Advent 3C:Zephaniah 3:14-20; Canticle 3 (Isaiah 12:2-6); Philippians 4:4-7; Luke 3:7-18
His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” Luke 3:17)
Towards the end of our worship today, you will hear a funny little song about the desirability of heat amidst the cold of winter. Yes, warmth is desirable, but in today’s gospel, we hear John the Baptist describe a fire that none of us would want to come close to. Combined with the mention of the axes, and the fate of trees that don’t bear good fruit, the imagery in John the Baptist’s sermon feels downright threatening. The implied message might be taken to be: “Please God, or else …”
Fortunately, I don’t think we need to hear the gospel this way. The gospel of Jesus Christ is always good news, and today is no exception. Today I want to suggest that the chaff and the unfruitful trees destined for destruction are in fact that the things - poverty, oppression, violence - that hinder God’s coming reign of peace and justice
Advent is always about the coming of God. Advent looks ahead to Jesus, the Word made flesh, but Advent also keeps one eye pointed at a more distant horizon, which in scripture is called the Day of the Lord, or which we sometimes call the Second Coming. Whereas our waiting for Jesus the Babe of Bethlehem is always joyful, the promised coming of Jesus the Lord of Heaven can seem ominous. Last Sunday, we heard the prophet Malachi ask, “But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears?” (Mal 3.2).
The answer, says Malachi, is that no one can stand except for those God loves. The encounter with God is transformative. God will clean us and change us for the better - hence Malachi’s images of fire and soap - but it is not a thing to be feared. Like dirty children grimacing at the approaching washcloth, we will be scrubbed but we will emerge with shining faces. Just as a parent lovingly washes a child, so God comes to us. God’s purposes are always loving, and God’s coming is always reason for rejoicing.
Today, the third Sunday of Advent, is associated with joy. That theme wends its way through our first three readings like a thread of gold. The prophet Zepahaniah promises that God will forgive his people, gathering the scattered, rescuing us, singing over us like a lover. “I will deal with your oppressors”, says the prophet, and for Paul, writing from prison to a persecuted church, the promise of freedom from oppression was real. Rejoice, Paul tells them. Be at peace, knowing that God guards you and watches over you. For Paul, God’s nearness is reason for joy, not fear.
So our correct response to Advent is to celebrate. We give thanks that Jesus loves us enough to come and be with us. We hold our heads high, we look expectantly for our Saviour, we rejoice, we sing. As we heard Isaiah say in our canticle this morning, “Surely it is God who saves me; I will trust in him and not be afraid” (Is 12:3). But if Advent is joyous, what do are we supposed to make of the axe and fire language in our gospel, because, as we’ve noted, it can be rather alarming.
John tells the crowds, “Bear fruits worthy of repentance” (Lk 3:8). Now there are several ways we can understand repentance. It can mean feeling sorry or ashamed of bad things we might have done, but there’s a more helpful way of understanding repentance. Think of what happens when you take your car in for a wheel alignment. The mechanic checks that your tires are all pointing in the same direction, so that you can drive safely. Think of repentance as us aligning ourselves with God’s purposes, so that we live and move with God and towards God.
Some of us have long since figured out how to live this sort of life. They’re the prayer warriors, they have a serenity and faithfulness that others find deeply attractive and inspiring. Others are still figuring it out. In our gospel reading today, the question asked repeatedly is “What the should we do?” For the crowds, the tax collectors, and the soldiers, this question comes from the recognition that God is righteousness and justice. John’s answers are simple: share your stuff, deal fairly with others, don’t cheat and rob them. John’s answers anticipate Jesus’ teaching, “Love God and love your neighbour as yourself”.
“What should we do then” is the question that comes out of the realization that we have strayed far from God’s path, and the answer can lead those who have strayed back to that path. God’s justice and righteousness go hand in hand with forgiveness. Our world needs justice and forgiveness in equal measure. These last few weeks we’ve seen people freed from terrible and evil prisons in Syria, death factories into which tens of thousands have vanished. This is the sort of evil that we yearn for God to uproot. We want God’s axe to come, we want the secret prisons and the torture chambers torn up and thrown into God’s fire.
But where God’s justice goes, God’s forgiveness follows. John’s message changed the hearts and lives of the crowds, tax collectors, and soldiers. Don’t we long for that same message to work in our world again? Imagine a day when secret policemen and torturers will say, “What then should we do?” Let us long for a day when warlords, gangsters, and sex traffickers will say, “What then should we do?” Let us pray for a day when corrupt judges, crooked politicians, and tyrants will say “What then should we do?”
To fear the coming of God is to misunderstand John’s message. John promises that God will burn the chaff with unquenchable fire. If we see the chaff as those worthless and evil things that stand against God’s purposes - things like greed, oppression, cruelty, and violence - then Advent promises a day when those things will be banished so that God’s reign of peace and justice can flourish. Advent is a time of rejoicing for those who are aligned with God’s purposes in the world. Advent is a time of hope and encouragement for those who feel God’s call to change their lives. And Advent is a time of promise for all of us, even when it seems that we wait in darkness, a time of promise that the dawn from on high shall break upon us.
Come, Lord Jesus, come.
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