& for a while things were cold
they were scared down in their holes
I'm tired;
I'm tired of
another school shooting,
I'm tired of
the short, dark days,
I'm tired of
the Christmas ads peddling the faux-good news of consumerism,
I'm tired of
fighting with the furnace,
I'm tired of
worrying about the budget,
I'm tired to
watching people work hard, do the right thing, and struggle day in and day out,
I'm tired of
all the disappointed hopes,
I'm tired of
how it seems to get harder and harder just to keep up hope,
I'm tired of
how Christmas always promises more than it delivers;
because the
truth is;
the same
promises of Peace on Earth and Goodwill to All which prompt us to rejoice during these cold,
dark days of Advent,
are the
very-same promises that make this time so difficult.
I'm just
tired,
and at the end
of the day, I guess what I'm truly tired of is wondering if Jesus is the
one...
I'm tired,
sisters and brothers,
and today of
all days, all I wanted was a reprieve,
I wanted to
sing 'Joy to the World,'
I mean, for
heaven's sake, the budget got pushed to its limits buying presents,
in an
already busy week I tried to clear enough time to get the tree and lights up,
and in the
paper I had to read about yet another senseless school shooting.
So, yes, I'm
tired.
I'm tired
and I've given everything I have to just put on a smile and get here,
so in light
of all that keep us exhausted, today's gospel practically feels like an insult;
today we
hear about John pacing in his dank, dark prison cell wondering if Jesus is the
one!
Couldn't
this reading have come earlier, or couldn’t we just pretend it isn't in the
Bible at all?!?!
Couldn't we
all just pretend these days of waiting are easier; that we're not all
struggling in one way or another?
The thing,
though, is that often the gospel is more truthful about ourselves than
we are.
As we do our
best to paste a smile on and go to yet another holiday party,
as we come
celebrate Gaudete, or joy, Saturday/Sunday pretending our last thread of
hope isn’t about to snap,
the Gospel
refuses to play along with the charade.
Instead of
insisting we sing 'Silent Night' today,
Matthew
holds up a mirror to our world that isn't silent so much as it is screaming,
Matthew
holds up a mirror to all our doubt, our worry, our fear...
As much as
we may want to avoid the ghastly reflection of our frailty, our feeble knees,
our brokenness, our weak hands,
Matthew's
testimony to God's Good News will allow us not shallow salvation,
Matthew's
testimony will not proclaim a God who can't meet all of our hopes and fears.
So today we
meet again the man we heard last week confidently proclaiming, 'Even now the ax
is lying at the root of the trees,"
now, however, this confident
preacher has landed in the clink;
and doubt is
lying precariously close to his fearful heart,
and the ax
has, apparently, been moved from the root to John's neck...
That's not
what we want to hear so close to Christmas,
for pete's
sake, Christmas Eve is less than 10 days away!
Can't the
messiah just pick up the sword and vanquish the enemies of the Good News
already?!?
Because the
terrible truth is, the same forces that have the power to simply toss aside
this John,
are at this
very moment rising up against this Jesus we hope will save us...
That isn't the only terrible truth, either;
despite all
the years that separate us from Jesus' life,
the same
forces that put John in his cell are bearing down on us too; aren't they?
For as safe
as we like to pretend our life is at the end of the day,
for as
freely as we come and go,
we know
John's prison,
his doubts,
his
anxieties,
his fears...
There's an
Advent expression, "Watch & Wait,"
but the
truth is, these days it feels more like "Wonder & Worry."
Worry and
Wonder...
Because
behind all those twinkling lights we've put on the tree,
behind even
the millionth playing of 'Sing We Merrily'
are more
than enough doubts and fears,
doubts and
fears we worry we'll never be delivered from.
The truth
is, our life isn't as put together as the family picture we send out with the
Christmas cards;
the truth is
our world isn't as bright and cheerful as the Christmas ads;
the truth is
we know less about 'Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire' than we do about the
cry, "O' Come, O' Come Emmanuel,"
because we need
God to come and save us...
The truth
is, for as much as we may pretend otherwise,
we know
John's prison cell,
we know the
dull ache of feeble knees from pacing all day,
we know the
raw, weak hands from chewed nails.
The truth
is, we wish Jesus would have given John a straight answer, not a response that
seems to draw all our questions into question.
'Go and tell
John what you hear and see;'
Jesus said.
"(T)hat
the blind see, the lame walk, leapers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are
raised, and the wretched have Good News brought to them.'
The truth
is, behind all those twinkling lights we've strung,
we're the
wretched;
the truth is
that although we may be able to see, we're the blind;
although we
may be able to walk, we're the lame;
although we
may be Zestfully clean, as the old ad went, we're leapers,
although we
may be able to hear, we're the deaf,
and although
we may be able to breath, we're the dead...
We're the
dead,
& we
need to be given life because all we've managed to do on our own is extinguish
it;
so no amount
of eggnog,
Holiday
door-busters,
or stations
playing Christmas music nonstop can revive us...
That's the
truth,
the truth of
Advent,
the truth of
why it's so hard to wait,
the truth of
why today's Gospel makes us so uncomfortable.
Over and
over again we've heard promises of 'peace on earth' and goodwill to all,
but what we see
doesn't fit with all those refrains we hear.
Despite our
best efforts, we've done little to herald 'glory to the newborn king.'
That last
gift we didn't really need but purchased anyway didn't bring peace any closer
than an overdraft fee,
that last
Christmas special we watched yet again didn't create anymore goodwill than ad
revenue...
And that,
I'm telling you, is why we're all so tired;
we've had
purchasable good news hocked to us by corporation after corporation since
Halloween;
and hopeless
creatures that we are, we've taken these companies at their word, and they've
just taken our money in response.
We've traded
our hard earned money for some toy that can never grant us sight, legs to stand
upon, cleansed hearts, or ears to hear;
we've given
our faith to a corporation that will never give us what we really need,
our lives
raised from death...
That,
finally, is the good news of today's challenging Gospel;
unlike the
ads which only depict the perfect life and have no ability to deliver
such a promise,
the Gospel
depicts a savior who goes to those places that will never make it into a
commercial but we have to live in day in and day out;
and delivers
us from that place we need to be saved from;
the places
we can't bear to look at,
the places
that take our legs out from under us,
the places
that dirty our Christmas ensemble,
the places
we can't bear to hear the cries rising from,
the places
that take our life,
the places
that, finally, reveal we are the wretched;
and from
that very place where only Jesus dares to go and says even here good
news can come,
from those
places Jesus declares to us what Isaiah said so long before him,
strengthen
the weak hands,
make firm
the feeble knees,
declare to
our fearful hearts,
"hear
this:
Be strong,
do not fear!
Here is your God.
Your God is here
to save you."
Here,
where we
live,
where we need
the good news to come.
As much as
we'd rather look into the television, broadcasting another Christmas special,
the Good
News today is that the Gospel is true,
not a too
good for life studio-set.
The good
news today is that in the messy world where we wait, day in and day out, for the good
news to come,
is the very
world where God does come,
O' Come, O'
Come Emmanuel;
Emmanuel God
with Us,
God for us.
Amen
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