St. Paul's On-The-Hill Episcopal Church

The Rev. Stephen C. Holton, Rector

Advent 3; December 13, 2009

Luke 3:7-18

THE WORLD IS DESPERATE – FOR YOU

The people are gathered around John the Baptist; and they are desperate – for something.

They know something is wrong with the world, or they wouldn't be there. They know something is wrong with themselves and their lives, or they wouldn't be there.

They have come out for the ancient, obvious rite of Baptism – the rite that washes away all our sins and impurities and helps us start again.

That's why we all come for purification. We want to start again. We are impure and we want to start again. We've done something wrong, many things wrong, and we want to start again. Something wrong has been done to us, made us impure, and we want to start again.

So we come out here to be purified, to hear about a different way of living, and to start again.

“The ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree, therefore, that does not bear good fruit, shall be cut down.”

Some good news, that is. The ax “at the root of the trees.” “You brood of vipers.” Some good news.

Why do they stay? Why don't they leave and hear better news, easier to live with news? Why this, supposedly good news that sounds so bad?

Perhaps because it squares with their reality. Perhaps it sounds familiar. Perhaps they know the world is in desperate shape, they feel like the ax is at the root of the trees, everything is a little shaky and it sounds like a distant voice is shouting: “Timber.” And everything in the whole civilization is about to come tumbling down.

Maybe they feel that John is right, and he's the only one who's saying what he's saying, so they come to hear him.

So there they are, and they say to him: “What then should we do?”

He's the only doctor that's giving them the right diagnosis, the diagnosis that is accounting for all their symptoms of unease and dis-ease; so he's the only doctor they ask for a prognosis.

“What then should we do?”

“In reply, he said to them: 'Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.”

Huh? Is that it? Is it that simple? No incredible rituals, no amazing sacrifices, no mystical changes. Just – share your stuff?

Share your stuff?

Is that it?

Yes, that's pretty much it. Share your stuff. Don't take more than you need. Leave the rest for someone else who needs it – even if you can afford it, leave it for someone else who needs it because you don't. That's pretty much it.

Pretty simple, isn't it?

I was in a meeting of the Diocesan Environmental Committee this week, which I chair, and I was sharing this gospel as a possible secret to an environmentally sustainable future – share your stuff, only take what you need.

A friend of mine on the committee, who chairs the rather cool organization named “New York Interfaith Power and Light,” then shared this amazing insight about nature – nature is amazingly simple. It works best when nothing takes more than it's fair share.

When some of us take more than our fair share, even when we can afford it, why then we know what happens. We get unhealthy! We have to go to the doctor. And the person or the thing that gets less than their fair share, whether they can afford it or not, they get unhealthy too!

Bad distribution equals bad health for everyone.

Greed by one person equals bad health for everyone, the greedy person included, the earth included, because all those resources have to come from somewhere.

So, share. That's pretty much it. Then there's enough for everyone.

There seems to be a rush toward John the Baptist as soon as he answers the question this gently, this doably, not asking of anyone more than what they're humanly capable.

Suddenly - “even tax collectors (who have plenty of money and are still unhappy) come to be baptized (since they saw it would mean something and help them and John wouldn't curse them and send them away), and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?”

“He said to them, 'Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.'” Not, change your life completely; give it all up. Just – don't take more than what's coming to you. Good advice, for all of us, regardless of our profession, of our talent, of what we deserve.

Just, take enough, not too much. Leave some in the kitty for someone else. Sober up. Don't party hearty. That sounds refreshing, more healthy too, for everyone.

Recognizing the good sense and the gentleness and the mercy he showed to the tax collectors, the soldiers ask: “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

Again, just 'be satisfied' with what you have. Don't use your power to get more. Good advice for all of us. Then the whole society can sober up and settle down.

That will be enough. That will be the fruit of repentance, the demonstration that we're taking medicine from the good doctor and entering treatment – and also finally achieving good health.

The evidence of good health is that we're sharing with others.

So: share is how we avoid sin. And: share is how we show goodness. And: share is how we get healthy together.

Share.

Then John has another promise, the promise of the One who will come after him.

John's message is about how to put our past behind us, how to step away from it into a new future.

Jesus' message is about how to make sure our past stays behind us, how to make sure we don't go back to it, and also how to be completely transformed and reborn into our future.

But it's going to be painful.

John's message of his kind of baptism is a baptism of water. We are going to be washed clean so we can start again. It is as if our clothes are going to be washed clean so we can start again.

With Jesus' kind of baptism, our clothes are going to be burned so we can't wear them again. Our old clothes are the problem. Our old habits are the problem. Our old ways of greed and self-indulgence are too gripping, too dangerous, too addictive just to be washed away or wished away. They have to be burned away.

Jesus is going to put our old habits beyond use – like burning the chaff from the wheat. When chaff is useful it is the husk that holds the kernel of wheat, and protects it from harm while it grows. When chaff is no longer useful it breaks open so that the wheat kernel can grow even more, and then be picked and mixed and ground up with other wheat kernels in order to be made into bread so it can feed others and give them strength.

Our chaff is holding us back. Our greed is suffocating us. Our need for stuff is taking our life. Jesus wants to put it beyond use. Take off your stuff, share what you don't need – says John. Then Jesus will burn up that desire to protect yourself, especially when it comes at the expense of someone else's need – even if you can pay for it. He'll burn it up so we can't use it anymore, can't suffocate ourself anymore even though we think we need it.

And the reason he's going to do that is – we're too valuable for that. We're too valuable for that. We've got good stuff inside and if we don't share that – that really good stuff, that stuff we are and not just the stuff we have – why then others will die for lack of nourishment.

What people are really desperate for, is you. They don't desperately need stuff from the mall, they need you. So Jesus burns up your chaff so you have no choice but to give yourself, because that's all you have at that point, and that's all anyone else really needs.

So this Christmas, if you can, give yourself, give a phone call, a personally written letter or a visit, before you consider giving a gift. Maybe that's what that person really needs. They need you.

The world needs you too. The world needs us.

The Temple in Jerusalem was built on a threshing floor, and perhaps every church is a threshing floor. Here we get separated from our chaff as we show up every Sunday because we know something is wrong with the world. We are winnowed by Christ. We wrestle with sin and with goodness.

Gradually the goodness is revealed, the kernel of wheat in each and every one of us. It is combined with the other wheat, losing some individuality – which scares us – and also adding some individual tang and flavor – which delights us.

Put it all together in the divine baker's hand, and we've got good bread for the world – to feed and strengthen them, having first been kneaded and baked by Christ, having first been given by us, when we walked into this baker's oven.

We thank you – we thank each other this day for all the good kernels of wheat, and money and energy and time we have shared with each other all year. We thank each other for all the good kernels of wheat we will share over the coming year. The wheat in the money comes from all the hard work we do every day. Now we give it to God, putting even that good stuff beyond our own use, making it impossible for us to use for ourselves.

We are in God's hands now, no longer wheat for our own use, but bread for his, bread which he will consecrate and use for the life of the world, like the bread of communion; bread for the life of the world in our communities – both this one here and those outside these walls, including the ones we come to during the week.

We have risked great things in coming here. We risk it every week. We put some time, some talent, some money, some energy beyond our own use. We say – maybe someone can use it more than me, even though I still have needs.' We say – 'maybe God can use it more than me.'

Well, yes, he can. He can make it into something even more special too – Life for the World and Life for You too. Nourishment for you too. Your Gifts become the Bread of Life for All. Who wouldn't want that?