Advent 2, 2019

December 8, 2019            Matthew 3:1-12                Isaiah 11:1-10                     Romans 15:4-13

                Two little kids were standing at the baptismal font.  The one put a cross on the other’s forehead and said as she had heard many times, “Remember your baptism.”  And the other one stood with furrowed brow, trying as hard as she could.  Finally she said, “I still can’t remember!”  How many of you were baptized as infants, or before you could remember?  How many were baptized as children?  How many were baptized as adults?  Sometimes I wish I could remember mine.  I have the bulletin from church that day and a picture of me on my grandma’s lawn in a dress my other grandma had made from the scraps of my mom’s wedding dress.  My parents were home on a military leave from Germany.  I was 9 months old.  No matter how hard I try to remember, I can’t.  Yet, sometimes my son asks to mark my forehead with the cross and I know he is retracing the mark made by the pastor so many years ago.

                The Pharisees and Sadducees, religious authorities, were coming out to be baptized by John in the Jordan River.  I guess they thought they were fleeing the wrath to come.  They were fleeing from something terrible, whether it was a revolt or a crackdown by the Romans, or a fear that their power would be taken away.  Maybe they were fleeing their own shortcomings and sins, their inadequacies.  They heard about this baptism that John was offering and decided to go check it out.

                But what they were missing the point John was making by baptizing at the Jordan River.  This was the place where the Israelites had crossed into the promised land.  The waters had parted much as they had at the beginning of the journey out of Egypt on the Red Sea, and they had crossed over to this place they had been wandering toward for 40 years.  They forgot their own history.  This wasn’t just a ritual washing, a place of safety to make sure they were doing the popular thing.  This was just as transforming as moving from slavery to freedom, as leaving behind everything they had ever known to move to a new country. This was embarking on a whole new life, not an easy life, but a God-claimed and God-centered life.  In fact it was so scary and new to the Isrealites way back during the time of wandering in the wilderness, that even though they approached the promised land within a year of leaving Egypt, they waffled on the far shore and decided not to go in, fearing the super strong people their scared spies reported seeing on the other side, inventing excuses not to take hold of the new life God was offering.  It was so new and disturbing that they opted to spend 39 more years wandering around until they built up enough faith, made enough mistakes and were forgiven, built a strong enough relationship with God and each other to finally find the courage to start the new life God was offering them.     

                So if the religious authorities were coming to be baptized because they were fleeing something, they were mistaken about what baptism is.  It is a transformation that requires courage, a transformation from slavery to freedom, which is harder than most people think.

The religious authorities wanted things to be easier.  And who could blame them?  We’re often on a similar quest.  We purchase gadgets that make our life easier.  The Alexa can be programmed to turn on and off lights or play music with voice commands.  There is a new exercise bike out this year so you don’t have to leave your house to get your exercise and you can have the most inviting exercise bike experience.  I got myself an immersion blender at the goodwill recently, still in the box.  It looked like it had never been used.  We want life to be easier.  And baptism seemed a whole lot easier than the previous initiation ritual which was circumcision.  Baptism was easier on the surface.  But it meant a whole new life, a new perspective, a new priority.  It meant a figurative death, by drowning through the waters, and coming through and rising to new life, centered on the values of the Kingdom of God:  love, service, working on behalf of people who are struggling, speaking unpopular truths, and living a life of nonviolence, which is often very difficult. 

The image of the tree being chopped down in the Gospel is very similar to the baptismal imagery of going through the sea, drowning in the waters of baptism and rising to new life.  The chopping down of a tree is the end of its life.  It feels very final.  Yet, we see before us this Jesse tree and read about it in the Isaiah reading and sometimes see it in our yards.  What was chopped down is showing signs of life.  What looked dead, sends up a hopeful shoot of new life.  There is still energy and life there.  Even when we screw it up, even when we sin, even when we die, even when life seems chopped down, God’s love and life continues.  Being chopped down is certainly not the easy path, yet God is with us in those difficult situations, giving new life.

Christians, like everybody else, want life easier and maybe even hope that’s what God promises, but if that’s what we think, we’re fooling ourselves.  John the Baptist says, “Repent,” which literally means “Turn around.”  Jesus invites us to take up our cross and follow him, not the easy path at all.  Jesus chose the life that was not easier.  He could have had anything at the snap of his fingers as we know from the story of his temptation in the wilderness.  Satan told him he could have all the Kingdoms of the world, that he could have all the bread that would fill his belly, that he could be admired, that he could have an easy life.  And Jesus said no.  He would live in solidarity, alongside those who didn’t have it easy and show us all that that’s where God chooses to be.  When people are hurting and struggling, that’s where God’s presence is promised.  So Jesus was born in a stable.  He came to us helpless and crying.  He put himself at risk of disease, ridicule, and violence.  He walked among people who suffered from diseases, who were hungry, who were ostracized because of the kind of work they did, among sinners.  He touched these people.  He talked to them.  He awoke in them a greater vision—not an easy path, but something worth suffering for, worth working toward.  Because of the company he kept and the truth he told, Jesus found himself among thieves and politicians, among rude soldiers, and still he asked God’s forgiveness for them.  All his friends betrayed and denied him because they were afraid of the difficult path, and still when he rose from the dead, he never held it against them.  And eventually they all risked their lives, and many of them became martyrs, working toward God’s vision of justice.

Anyone can take the easy path, but our baptism is the first sign that our path will not be made easier by loving God and loving our neighbor.  Anyone can take the easy path.  Jesus shows us that when we are working for God, when we stand up for values of the Kingdom and a vision of peace, sometimes that will make our lives harder, because there are people who are invested in oppressing others in order to make their lives easier.  In fact we all are those people invested in oppressing others in order to make our lives easier.  Because we want cheap goods, other people are not paid a fair wage.  Because we want gadgets that make life easier, the earth is polluted and the poor live in the most polluted places.   

When I think of those who choose the difficult path, I think of the lives of first responders, fire and police and chaplains.  They are people who have said they will run toward suffering and difficulty in order to save lives.  I think of people who protest in Hong Kong who stand up to an oppressive government, despite much suffering and hardship.  I think of congregations who open their doors to those without shelter during these cold nights.  Certainly it would be easier not to, but they have a vision of a better world.  They put themselves in the worn out shoes of the people who come in from the cold, and ask how they would want to be treated in the same situation.  Many times, I’m sure, this church chose the difficult path to serve God and live Kingdom values. 

The Gospel doesn’t call us to take risks for the sake of taking risks.  The Gospel doesn’t call us to parachute from an airplane or drive without a seatbelt on.  But it does ask us when we encounter injustice, to take a risk, take a stand.  The Gospel asks us, instead of avoiding people who are struggling to walk with them, get to know them, befriend and empower them.  The Gospel asks us to befriend them even though we might be ridiculed, we might risk being hurt, cheated, or used.

I find this reading from Isaiah so inspiring!  The little bud on the plant, the branch growing from the stump, the wolf and lamb snuggling, the big cat and the little goat curled up, and that people and all creation would know and act with the love and peace of God.  When I let myself really picture that promised reality, the Kingdom of God, I feel myself filled with hope and courage.  I would risk a lot to see that reality.  I might even turn around from all my distractions and quest for the easy path.  And I think of what this vision requires, it does require risk.  That the lion and the lamb would even approach each other.  That God would approach us and we would approach God.  That strangers would approach each other to come to worship or exchange food or work together so that God can make this vision a reality through ordinary people.

Today you are invited to remember your baptism, whether you can remember it or not.  Turn around, repent, go through the waters, take a risk, do not fear being cut down.  God is coming near to walk with us all this Advent to bring new life and hope.