Comfort, You Vipers! – 11/30/08

It was in the eighth year of George W. Bush’s presidency, when Christine Gregoire was governor of WA, Maria Cantwell and Patty Murray were U.S. Senators, Jim McDermott was the Representative to the House, and Greg Nickels was Mayor of Seattle, during the time when Wes Granberg-Michaelson was General Secretary of the RCA and Bruce Bugbee was the executive of the Far West Synod. The word of God came to Brendan Foster, an 11 year old boy who was dying of leukemia. He inspired people from Los Angeles, CA to Ohio to Pensacola, FL, to work together and donate food to the homeless in Seattle. In western Washington people honored Brendan by donating over 6 full truck loads and $60,000 in cash to a local food bank.

If you haven’t heard Brendan’s story yet, it’s a good one. Brendan was a typical boy who liked to play sport and play video games. He would rush home from school so that he could rush through his homework so that he could rush around outside before dinner. He had dreams of growing up to be a marine photographer of all things. But those dreams were dashed the day he was rushed into an emergency room. He wouldn’t even be able to walk out. Leukemia had taken over and the next period of his life would be one of intense treatment. The diagnosis was not good. But with the little time that Brendan had left, he was able to do a lot of good.

Riding home after one of his treatments, he looked out his window and saw Nickelsville, a kind of tent city for homeless families of Seattle. He made his dying wish that day, hoping to have a chance to feed them. In his words, “They’re probably starving, so give’em a chance.” He wouldn’t be able to feed them on his own, but as word got out people from all over the country responded. It was a TV station in LA that responded with a food drive. School kids in Ohio collected cans and people in Pensacola, FL gathered all kinds of goods for the homeless. All of it added to the outpouring from Seattle natives. Nickelsville ate well that night because of a little boy whom they will never meet.

All of this happened even though the mayor of Seattle previously bulldozed the tents of many of Seattle homeless, separating families and children from one another. Local churches and advocates responded by building a homeless tent city hosted by a local university. They named it Nickelsville after their mayor. Beyond the mayor, however, I’m not sure any other political or religious leaders new about Nickelsville despite the fact that homelessness has grown by 15% in Seattle. It took a little boy, dying of cancer to raise awareness of the situation and inspire a response from the people of the area. That’s why we could consider him a modern-day John the Baptist. After all, I began my sermon much like the passage we heard from Luke’s gospel this morning.

Luke is setting the stage and making a point with his list of dignitaries. You have the emperor of Rome, Tiberius. The governor of Judea is Pontius Pilate. You have Herod, Philip, and Lysanias who are more local rulers. You also have Annas and Caiaphas serving has high priests. These are the people of the day to turn to if you’d want something to happen. Send a letter to Rome, ask for a meeting with the governor, protest outside the mayor’s office, or take your pastor out for coffee. They were the ones with the power to act on God’s behalf. And yet, Luke points out quite explicitly, the word of God comes to none of those. It comes to someone named John. He’s not an emperor or governor or even a high priest. He’s a son. And, he’s not in Rome, or Judea or sitting on a throne in Galilee or presiding over services in the temple. He’s in the wilderness.

To this unlikely character the word of God comes. It sounds like this: You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance. Those are words that epitomize the voice of John the Baptist in the Bible, the one who was sent throughout the region of the Jordan River preaching the baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. He is the one that all of the gospel writers point to with the words of Isaiah: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill brought low; the crooked paths shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.” Neither Tiberius, nor Pontius, nor Herod, Philip or Lysanias; not even Annas or Caiaphas, the high priests of God, were preparing the way for the Lord.

As John was preaching in the wilderness, people began leaving their cities and towns. They made the journey out to the riverside to go see this strange man only to be greeted with the words, “You brood of vipers!” That may have been all that I needed to hear, but for some reason, the crowds stuck around. They stuck around to hear that they needed to change their ways. They stuck around to hear that their ancestry and their family traditions were worthless; that God was likely to raise up new children from rocks. They stuck around to hear that the ax was ready to cut down any tree that didn’t bear good fruit. For some reason, a message that would have turned me off, was enough to convince the crowds to wade through the water and be baptized.

Perhaps it was because they had lost all confidence that change would come through the leaders of the day. The people of made their way to John were Jews who had felt forgotten and forsaken for too long. They couldn’t turn to the emperor of Rome or to Pontius Pilate. It was their army, after all, that was occupying their land and desecrating their holy sites. They couldn’t turn to Herod or to his brother Philip because the only reason they were in power is because there are compliant with Rome. They did not the interests of God’s people in mind. Not even Annas and Caiaphas, for all of the religious leadership, were likely to bring any change to God’s land or God’s people. They were stuck in their own ways, presiding over the same old system of sacrifices. There was no salvation to be found there. In other words, everyone in power was comfortable in their power. The status quo was likely to remain so for quite some time.

John it seems was their only hope. Despite his harsh words, despite his criticism, he was able to give the crowds one thing that no other political or religious leader could: hope. When they heard about John walking in the wilderness, they thought about Isaiah and his voice crying out to a people lost in exile. “Comfort, O Comfort, my people,” says your God. The penalty is paid. The term has been served. A highway will be made in the desert so that God’s people can return home from their time in exile. God is coming! God is returning to his people. His arm will rule and his reward is with him. Salvation will be seen by everyone. God will once again feed his people like a shepherd, gather them in his arms, and carry them in his bosom. For a long time God’s people had carried these words of comfort in their heart. They hold out hope that they could see this day. They thought that there was a chance that John was the one announcing it.

So they put up with the whole brood of vipers thing. They put up with the whole ax at the roots thing. They humbled themselves enough to receive baptism; admitting that they had lost their way and needed to begin again. They did all of it because they wanted to see the Lord return to his temple and to his people and save them from their trials and temptations. Longing to find themselves gathered into God’s comforting arms again they asked John, “What then should we do?” The question was not, “Who should we go talk to about this?” The question was not, “Why is this happening to us?” The question was not, “Where should we go?” The question was, “What then should we do?” If God is coming to clean house and set things in order and gather up the good fruit, how do we bear the good fruit?

It made sense to them that if God were to return, if salvation was to come, things would have to change quite radically. None of their leaders were able to use their power to bring about salvation in any way, shape, or form. The crowds came out because they were ready to admit that there would have to be a change of heart as dramatic as mountains crumbling and valleys being filled. For them, John’s harsh words and criticism were a sign that he was part of the drama of God’s plan to renew his people; to return to them and comfort them. They wanted to be a part of the drama as well. They wanted to be actors in the play of the Lord’s return. They couldn’t hide under the rocks any more just waiting, they would have to act and they knew it. They had hope that John could point them in the right direction.

He said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise.” That one counted for everyone in the crowds. But even the tax collectors wanted to know what they could do, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” Soldiers asked what they could do, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation; and be satisfied with your wages.” This was the word of God that sounded faintly familiar to the prophets of old. It wasn’t that any of these people were necessarily bad people The tax collectors were simply servants of the state. All the tax collectors took a little extra off the top. The soldiers were there to keep the peace. All of them had to let people know who was boss. Besides, everyone enjoyed having an extra coat in the closet and food on the table. They weren’t bad people, but they were just as ineffective as their leaders because they were comfortable. But now they wanted to be comforted.

John was announcing the Lord’s arrival and the Lord’ expectations. When the Lord came he expected to find people who were content with enough and willing to share what was left. No bribery. No extortion. Those were small sacrifices to make if they were to have their freedom back; if they were to have their God back. Because of John and his dramatic behavior they had more hope now than ever that the Lord would be returning. They were more than happy to do what it took to pave the way for him. If that meant that straightening out and the smoothing of their hearts, so be it. It was a small price to pay if meant that God would once again take his throne and that they would once again be taken up into God’s heart. John, with his harsh words and baptism of repentance, paved the way through the hearts of the crowd, getting them ready for the Lord’s return.

As we do every season of Advent, we come here awaiting the return of the Lord. We stand between the first and second coming of Christ. We are hopeful for the day when Jesus Christ will return and put an end, once and for all, to mourning and crying and pain, to disease and even to death. However, we are not simply waiting. Rather, like John, we are preparing. We are preparing a way for the Lord through repentance, through a turning toward a life humble service. We come here mindful that the Lord will return to separate sheep and goats based on how they treated the least of these. We are aware that the Lord will be paying attention to how we live and to how we work. But we realize that repentance and humble service are small sacrifices to make for the comfort that the Lord will bring. Sometimes it takes someone like Brendan Foster to remind us of that.

Brendan Foster didn’t use harsh words and he offered no baptism, but he certainly changed hearts. In his own way he reflected God’s word that those with two coats should share with those who have none and those with food should do likewise. It’s not likely that any mayor of Seattle will again be able to bulldoze the tents of the homeless in that city. Young Brendan did more for the homeless in his death than most civil servants or religious authorities are able to do in their entire lives. Brendan reminds us that as the body of Christ we are not called to imitate those in the halls of power, but to imitate children who walk in faith. Hope has no better witness than those who are willing to give their lives away for the sake of others.

Hope Reformed Church has no better witness than those who are unwilling to be pacificed by material comforts and political freedom. We prepare the way of the Lord as we do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly. It is our way to embrace hope, to say to the community around us that the Lord is coming. By delivering Thanksgiving meals and laying down a Thanksgiving offering, by sharing Christmas gifts and mentoring students from Mulick Park and Ottawa Hills we are saying that “Here is your God!” See, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him; his reward is with him, and his recompense before him. He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep. Amen.