We have heard today the phrase in Luke’s Gospel that always
catches me by surprise. And since the soul of comedy is
surprise, . . . we have heard today the phrase in Luke’s
Gospel which always causes a little giggle to well up inside me and beg
to come out and play. . . . It is the phrase in which Saint
Luke comments upon John the Baptizer having said,
“he who is mightier than I is coming . . .
to gather the
wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable
fire.” [and then Luke says] So, with many other
exhortations, [John] preached good news to the people.
Now, I don’t know about the rest of you, . . . but the idea
that God’s Christ is coming to burn human chaff with
unquenchable fire -- with an irresistible fire; with fire that cannot
be prevented . . . that cannot be stopped . . . that cannot be
extinguished; . . . the idea that God’s Christ is coming to
burn with unquenchable fire those persons He regards as mere
husks of
humanity . . . hardly qualifies as
good
news. . . . At least
it doesn’t seem to qualify as good news to ears which have
been conditioned by liberal Protestantism over the course of several
decades. . . . St. Luke’s remark, in fact, sounds
rather like sarcasm. Unquenchable fire, indeed!
Liberal Protestantism has accustomed us to a
gentler approach to
religion; . . . we’re accustomed to being wooed and to wooing
souls into the Kingdom, not frightening them. After all,
doesn’t the Incarnation show that God wishes to
affirm my
personhood; . . . that He accepts me just as I am?
Isn’t the fact that I’m created in God’s
Image sufficient proof that God
honors
my needs as appropriate
expressions of my personhood? . . . Liberal Protestantism may
talk you to death, but it certainly doesn’t burn
anyone with
unquenchable fire! We’re simply not used to that
kind of talk. . . . It only inspires laughter.
But think about it. . . . Who
are these people to whom John is speaking? Who are these
people who have come out to hear him and to recognize the sin in their
lives and to be baptized as a sign of their repentance? Who
are these
people? . . . Well, most of them seem to be the
sort who put a lot of stock in the fact that Abraham is their
father. . . . In the Fourth Gospel
Jesus has
conversation
with such people, whom Saint John identifies as “the
Jews,” . . . a phrase John uses to indicate individuals who
believe that their racial heritage has made them God’s
particular favorites. So, many of the ones who come to John
the Baptizer are people who want God’s assurance that their
personhood and their lifestyle and their values are affirmed.
Of course, there are the tax collectors and
“soldiers” (policemen, most likely), who supplement
their fairly meager wage by extortion. But, actually, it is a
fairly ordinary collection of people who come out to hear John; . . .
as ordinary a collection of people as you might find while shopping in
South-side Oneonta; . . . a fairly ordinary collection of people with a
smattering of exceptional sinners thrown in for color.
And what does John say to these
people? . . . He says,
You are all as good as vipers(!), full of
poison. So, if you
repent of your poison, then become something else. Who you
are at this moment [John says] . . . who you are at this moment
isn’t good enough. The Lord God expects more from
you. If you want to live with the angels, . . . then you must
become angelic!
. . . [For] I baptize you with water; but he
who is mightier than I is coming . . . [to] baptize you with the Holy
Spirit and with fire.
The
good
news, you see, . . . the
good
news is that God isn’t
indifferent to us. The
good
news is that God cares about what
becomes of us. God cares that we were made for eternity . . .
that we are spiritual cousins to the angels; . . . God cares that we
were made for eternity but are squandering our heritage; . . . God
cares that we were made for eternity, and He doesn’t want to
see us obliterate ourselves in conflagrations of self-absorption so
that we become ash; . . . so that we become mere chaff; mere rubbish to
pollute eternity unless it is burned with unquenchable fire.
. . . The Lord God Almighty isn’t indifferent to us; . . .
that’s
John’s
good
news. The Lord God
Almighty isn’t indifferent to us, and so, He draws near to
us; . . . He draws near enough to hear your very
heart, . . . and
the
good news is
also
that if you’re quiet enough, . . . you can
hear the heart of God as well; . . . if you are quiet enough, you can
hear the heart of God and be
transfigured!
There used to be a Wal-Mart commercial
on television that got aired at this time of year . . . in which a
very
charming child says (
most
earnestly), “Christmas [meaning
this present season of
Advent]
. . . Christmas [the child says] is a
time for giving and loving.” Which is precisely
wrong.
. . . The child is charming but not well
taught. Because, you see, there’s no
season for
giving in God’s sight! For, what does
God’s prophet John the Baptizer say?
Bear fruits that befit repentance, . . . He who has
two coats, let him
share with him who has none; and he who has food, let him do likewise.
God doesn’t designate a season for generosity! He
expects us to be generous all the time! And neither is
generosity uniquely associated with Christ . . . with
“Christmas”. I refer you to the Old
Testament and the Law which preceded Christmas by some two thousand
years; . . . I refer you to the Book of Exodus 22:26-27 where it says,
If ever you take your neighbor’s garment in
pledge, you shall
restore it to him before the sun goes down; for that is his only
covering, it is his mantle for his body; in what else shall he sleep?
And if he cries to me, I will hear, for I am compassionate.
and look in the Book of Leviticus 19:9-10 where it says,
When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not
reap your field
to its very border, neither shall you gather the gleanings after your
harvest. And you shall not strip your vineyard bare, neither
shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave
them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the LORD
your God.
The Lord God Almighty communicated to Moses, many centuries before the
Advent of Jesus; . . . God communicated to Moses an expectation for
humanity of habitual generosity and mercy. . . . And, again,
neither are these expressions of love associated with a particular
season as far as you -- the people of Christ -- are
concerned. For, what does John the Baptizer say to the
soldiers he baptized? He says,
Rob no one by violence or by false accusation, and be
content with your
wages.
This season of Advent which precedes
Christmastide is
not
a time intended by God for extraordinary giving, .
. . although that is a pleasant custom among us. This season
of Advent which precedes Christmastide is a time especially consecrated
by the Church for remembering the good news given to us by
God’s prophets, that
he who is mightier than I is coming, . . . His
winnowing fork is in his
hand . . . to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will
burn with unquenchable fire.
This season of Advent which precedes Christmastide is a time for
remembering that God is not indifferent to you and to the fruits of
your life, . . . and
if
you desire not to be put out with the rubbish
of eternity and burned to a mere molecular vapor; … if you
desire to live with the angels and to know the ineffable and
breathtaking joy of seeing what they see and hearing what they hear; .
. . if you desire to live with the angels . . . then you must become
angelic.
This season of Advent which precedes
Christmastide is
not
a time intended by God for extraordinary
expressions of charity, . . . although that
is an angelic
trait. Rather, this season of Advent which precedes
Christmastide is a time especially consecrated by the Church for
heeding the exhortations of God’s prophets, such as that of
Zephaniah, who says to us that
The LORD, your God, is in your midst, . . . he will rejoice over you
with gladness, he will renew you in his love
This season of Advent which precedes Christmastide is a season for
receptivity; … for being rejoiced over by your God; . . .
for hearing His heart of love in the stillness of your own . . . and
being renewed by it. . . . Because, if the Lord your God
promised to come to you, as the prophet Zephaniah says, . . . as a
warrior who gives victory; . . . if the Lord your God promised to come
to you in power and majesty and might that would inspire awe and wonder
and happiness and trembling; . . . and the thing He chose in order to
fulfill this promise at His
first advent was the power of infancy; . .
. if the Lord our God came to us with a power that evokes our
own
simplicity; a power which evokes our tenderest and most innocent and
selfless instincts; a power which evokes
enormous reverence for our
Creator (all of which an infant has the power to do); . . . if the Lord
our God came to us with such power the
first time, . . . it is very
important that our Christian Life forgets enough liberal Protestantism
. . . becomes self-forgetful enough . . . to become so simple and
detached and focused . . . so poor and chaste and obedient to God . . .
become so angelic . . . that we can hear God’s heart all the
time, and not miss Him when He shall come again to bring us home.
. . . Last Sunday I observed that as we
wait in the twilight of our Redemption; . . . as we wait at the
threshold of Heaven for the magnificent effulgence of our Salvation . .
. we are ever in danger of becoming bored and wandering off to
incorporate into our lifestyles the Darkness from which Christ has
redeemed us. . . . We are ever in danger, in these present
times, of
enjoying the self-reliance of being
apart from God in the
Darkness . . . until we expend all of our finite resources and collapse
into a heap of dust; . . . until the kernel of our being is eaten up .
. . and all that is left of us is chaff. . . . The
remedy for
boredom as we sit at the threshold of Heaven; . . . the thing that
keeps us from wandering off into the Dark . . . is to be still; . . .
to be still in this season of Advent; to be still and attentive to God
. . . so that your God might rejoice over you and His love renew you .
. . to be still so that restlessness might not make chaff of you, . . .
chaff to be burned with unquenchable fire.