(Homily for Gayton Road Christian Church's Worship on December 10, 2017, Advent II)
From “Besties” to Break-Up
For me, the first few days of
college felt like a whole new world.
Last week, we followed the gospel of John all the way back to the
beginning of the world, as it began the Advent story not with Mary and Joseph
but with creation. That’s a little
bit what college felt like to me: the creation story. All around me were new
possibilities and new people and new purpose, and it was all very good. But there at the very beginning, I felt
alone. Just as the first human was
alone.
The good news of the creation
story—which is also the good news of Advent—is that God sees when we are alone
and knows that that is not good. In the case of the first human, God created a
companion. In the case of college,
I made a few good friends. And it
was good again.
One of my friends, Amy, had a
similar experience. When she first
arrived at college, she felt bewildered and alone. So she sought out clubs and activities where she could make
some friends. It was not long
before she started attending the Baptist Student Union, where she met
Claire. They would soon become
self-declared “besties.” Life was
good.
The next year, Amy and Claire
decided to be roommates. Both
fantasized about how wonderful it would be: impromptu movie nights, shared
study sessions, decorating the room with their favorite colors and posters.
They lived together three weeks
before Amy moved out.
I wasn’t there on the front lines
to know what went wrong. All I
knew was that the two girls who were “besties” were now broken up.
The Real Adventure Is Reconciliation
If the creation story reminds us
that it is not good to be alone, then everything after the creation story—from
Cain and Abel to Amy and Claire—reminds us that it is not always easy to be
together. The drama of
Advent, then, is not simply about being alone. God has already given us each other, as God gave the first
human a companion. We are not
alone. But we have trouble being together.
The adventure of Advent, then, is
about more than meeting someone new.
It’s not simply that God will come and we will not be alone. The real adventure is reconciliation
with each other. God will come and
reconcile us with each other and with God.
Isaiah’s Strange Peace: Children Leaders and
Immigrant Predators
The prophet Isaiah dreams
restlessly about this reconciliation.
Peace haunts him. He can’t
get rid of the thought. The same
images keep intruding on his mind, and we hear them again and again in his
prophecies. First there is the
young child (cf. 7:14; 9:6; 11:6, 8).
“Look,” Isaiah says, “the young woman is with child and shall bear a son,
and shall name him Immanuel.”
Later he exclaims, “A child has been born for us, a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty
God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Just how a defenseless child will achieve peace is left
completely to our imagination.
The next image that preoccupies
Isaiah is a strange group of animals dwelling together side by side (cf.
11:6-9; 65:25). “The wolf shall
live with the lamb,” he says, “the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the
calf and the lion and the fatling together.” That’s a bizarre enough picture if you spend just a minute
with it. But it’s even more bizarre
in the original language, where Isaiah is saying that the wolf will “sojourn”
with the lamb, which is to say, the wolf will live like an immigrant among the
sheep, adopting the sheep’s way of life, submitting itself to the jurisdiction
of the sheep. But Isaiah’s not
done. Who should show up next, but
a very familiar character? “And a little child,” he insists, “shall lead them
[all].” The next snapshot of
Isaiah’s vision is similar: “The cow and the bear shall graze, their young
shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.” Notice how the predator again adopts
the way of its prey: the bear grazes
with the cow. The lion eats straw like the ox.
Peace from the Memory Care Unit
What an outlandish dream of
peace! Mighty animals meekly
submitting to the ways of their prey, and a little child leading them all. What’s it supposed to mean?
This past week, I had the
opportunity to spend some time with the memory care residents across the street
at Symphony Manor. We put some
puzzles together. We talked about
cats and dogs. And we introduced
ourselves more than a few times. I
don’t want to over-sentimentalize the moment, but I did experience there a real
peace. In their presence, I was
accepted without question. I had
no self to prove: no image to protect, no expectations to live up to, no goal
to achieve. I simply
belonged.
I wonder if I were not somehow in
the presence of the child leader.
I wonder if I were not the wolf submitting to the lamb, the bear grazing
with the cow, the lion eating straw alongside the ox. I wonder if the adventure of Advent is not about the peace
that is born when we forego ourselves and follow the lead of the weak and the
vulnerable.
Because they were leading
me. By their trust and their
welcome and their simple sharing.
We had celebrated the Lord’s Supper with them, but they were showing me
the gospel truth of that meal, embracing me at their table without question,
making me a part of them.
Matthew’s Peace: Women, Foreigners, Sinners
Included
Isaiah’s not the only one to see
peace in a child, to envision reconciliation among opposites. In the gospel of Matthew, Advent begins
with a genealogy of the baby Jesus.
This is probably a passage you skim, if not skip entirely: “So-and-so
begat so-and-so,” and so on.
Normally in that culture, genealogies were about
self-glorification. You would
point out all your greatest ancestors.
At first, that’s what the genealogy in Matthew looks like: a Who’s Who
of the Bible. Abraham. David. All these kings of Israel. Jesus has an impressive résumé here. But when we look a bit more closely, we
see something very odd. In this
long list of fathers, Matthew decides
to include four mothers. To include women in a list of men is
odd enough. But his choice of
mothers is even odder. He does not
choose the respectable matriarchs, like Sarah or Rebekah. He instead mentions Tamar and Rahab,
whom for the sake of decency I will call “loose ladies”; Ruth, who was a
foreigner; and Bathsheba, whose story reminds us of King David’s wickedness.
In Matthew’s day, women,
foreigners, and sinners were all considered inferior. Why highlight their place in the birth of Jesus, when it
would have been just as easy to hide them? I wonder if this isn’t Matthew’s way of dramatizing the
adventure of Advent, hinting that the reconciliation of all the world is
somehow already in this baby boy’s blood: man and woman, Jew and foreigner,
righteous and sinner, all will be reconciled in the life of this child.
Jesus Christ Is Our Peace
It’s not easy to be
together. But that is the
adventure of Advent. Isaiah saw it
in his visions of peace. He said
it would happen on the day when a child would lead us. He said it would happen when we forego
ourselves and follow the lead of others, especially the weaker among us. Matthew sees it too in a child whose
humble birth gathers together all the loose ends of the world—men and women, Jews and foreigners, and the righteous and sinners.
These are beautiful sentiments,
but let’s not confuse their beauty with ease or convenience. If Jesus Christ, who is our peace, is
any indication, sometimes reconciliation means conflict, or keeping a safe
distance—or even a cross.
In the case of Amy and
Claire—well, they never roomed together again. But now they are both married mothers, whose children share
play-dates from time to time. They
are no longer best friends. But
now at least they are real
friends. And I have to think that
has something to do with the child prince and the immigrant wolf. I have to think it has something to do
with letting go of control, listening to each other, honoring differences, and
looking not to one’s own interests but to the interests of the other. In short, I think true reconciliation
has something to do with the life and love that is coming—the life and love
that we know best in the flesh and blood of the child soon to be born.
Prayer
Lion who grazes
Alongside the oxen,
Little child
Who leads us
In the way of peace—
You are our reconciliation.
Show us what togetherness
Really looks like.
And bring us together
In your love.
Amen.
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