In this third week of Advent, John the Baptist calls for repentance. The crowds that hear him agree that change is needed, but they wonder, “What should we do?” Looking at the brokenness in the world around us, we wonder the same.
The answer, John says, is to love our neighbors. When we follow John’s instructions to turn from our sin and greed, when those of us who have two coats give one away, when we give from our abundance, the world is blessed. Turning from sin to live God’s way gives abundant opportunities for rejoicing!
This week’s Scripture readings are Zephaniah 3:14-20, Isaiah 12:2-6, Philippians 4:4-7, and Luke 3:7-18. Here’s the livestream from Living Hope.
Grace to you and peace from God our Creator and the One for whom we wait and prepare, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
John the Baptist is one of my favorite Bible characters to preach about, which is good, because we talk about him every year in Advent. All four of the Gospel writers—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—spend time on John’s message.
Usually, I talk about how he’s this abrasive, confrontational prophet, a wild man out in the wilderness bellowing at the people who come to see him.
Happy Advent, you brood of vipers. John says all the stuff that more…civilized? Tame? Graceful? preachers gloss over. He’s much more of a fire-and-brimstone sort of revival preacher than most of us are comfortable with.
But this morning, with our theme of “grace-filled beginnings,” we’re going to go in a little bit different direction and look more at the middle part of this Gospel reading, at the interaction John has with his audience.
The word of God comes to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness—someone far from the halls of power and the movers and shakers in Jerusalem and Rome, as we talked about last week—and the message is urgent.
Prepare the way of the Lord! Repent! You brood of vipers, flee from the wrath to come! The time is now, “the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” That’s John’s message.
And in verse 10, the crowds—the people listening to John—ask him, “What, then, should we do?”
We’re heard your message, we see the problem. We hear you—the world is not working, our lives are a mess, we need help. That’s why we’ve come out into the wilderness. Something’s not right. We know we need to change our hearts, turn back to God, repent, go the other way. So what exactly are we supposed to do?
John’s answer is both radical and simple. He doesn’t say it this way, but it boils down to love your neighbors. Fairness. If you have two coats, if you have more than you need, give one away.
We just organized our winter things at home, and it turns out I have several coats, enough that I pulled a few out of the hall closet and put them into storage upstairs. This message might be aimed at me, at all of us in our culture that’s so addicted to things, to stuff, those of us with full pantries and chest freezers.
Whoever has food must do likewise, John says. Share with your neighbors. Easy in principle; harder in practice.
I’m more comfortable with the next example John gives. Verse 12: Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.”
I’m very good with tax collectors not cheating me. Everybody likes tax cuts, right? Although this raises questions of what is fair, how we all contribute to the needs of our neighbors by paying our fair share, not just to the government, but to the common good, which is of course what our taxes ought to be funding. The reality may be somewhat different, which is both a political issue and a symptom of our broken world.
But the point, John says, is that we are to look out for our neighbors. If you come to be baptized; if you’re going to repent; for us, if you’re going to follow Jesus, it’s going to involve living differently.
If we want to change this broken world, if we want to turn back to God and follow the instructions of our Creator, “What then should we do?” The answer is to consider the needs of others, to live fairly, to work for justice.
It’s the same famous command given centuries earlier through the prophet Micah: “God has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God.” That’s how we change the world. That’s the good fruit of repentance, of a life aimed at following God, putting God before ourselves.
Here’s the thing: There’s only so much any of us can do on our own. There are people in our world who have lots of power, governors, presidents, generals, but even they depend on others to get things done. And most of us don’t have anywhere near that power.
I can bring a dish to a community meal, but it’s going to be a lot better if we get a bunch of folks to sign up and each bring something. I can increase my offering, but not enough to pay for a furnace. I can give one coat away, but that’s only enough to keep one person warm.
The solution is community. God intends us to live in community. This might be the most un-American thing I can say: None of us are meant to be self-sufficient. We are meant to help each other.
God’s grace is a gift meant for us all, together, collectively.
Your relationship with God matters; it’s important. God cares about you personally. Jesus laid down his life for you. And the grace given to you by God is meant to draw you into community. Loving God leads to loving the people God created, our neighbors who bear God’s image. We share the joy we receive. Grace pulls us together.
Soldiers asked John how this applies to them, and similar to the tax collectors, he tells them to not take advantage of their positions. Don’t bully others or blackmail other people. Again, that seems like a low bar, but it points to the need to look out for our neighbors.
When Martin Luther explains the 7th commandment, the one that says simply “You shall not steal,” he says this means the obvious things, that we are to not take our neighbors’ money or property, nor acquire them by using shoddy merchandise or crooked deals—don’t cheat people—but then he continues, “Instead help them to improve and protect their property and income.” (Small Catechism)
Not taking from others isn’t enough; loving our neighbors means helping them, rejoicing with them when things go well, caring for them because we’re all in this together. Grace pulls us together.
The people who hear this message from John get so excited with his call to justice, love, and generosity that they start wondering if he is the Messiah, if he is the one sent by God to rescue them. Remember, they’ve been waiting for centuries for God’s promised redeemer, God’s rescuer. These are poor folks living in an oppressed society, living tough lives.
They receive this message from John—as abrasive and challenging and uncomfortable as it sounds to us—they receive it as good news. It sounds like the joy spoken of by Zephaniah and other prophets, the salvation Isaiah promised.
Because John is pointing to the way the world was always created to be. God made this world so that there would be enough for everyone.
There are powers in this world hell-bent on dividing us, convincing us of scarcity, telling us that only fools would put others before themselves. But that’s not the way God’s grace works. That’s not the way God intends this world to be.
Advent is about recognizing the distance between the way the world ought to be and the way it is. It’s supposed to make us uncomfortable, discontent. And then move to action, to seeking justice, to generous living.
The grace we receive through the baby in the manger, the grace of knowing God has not abandoned us or given up on us, that grace sets us free to push forward, to work together for our neighbors, to share grace until all are free. All are fed. All are clothed. All have justice.
Until all know the good news of God’s love. Grace brings us together. Amen