Matthew 3:1-12
In those days, John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea proclaiming, “Repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near. This is the one about whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said, ‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness, “Prepare the way of the Lord, and make his paths straight.’” Now, John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist and his food was locusts and wild honey.
Then the people of Jerusalem and all Judea were going out to him, and all along the region of the Jordan, to be baptized by John in the river Jordan, confessing their sins.
But when John saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming to him for baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance and do not pretend to say about yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor.’ For I tell you, from these stones, God could raise up children to Abraham. Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees and every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.
“I baptize with fire, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me. I’m not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hands to clear the threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”
Well, last week Pastor Cogan gave us the Grinch who stole Christmas – and terrorized some small children by bursting into their homes and stealing Christmas gifts, right before their eyes and right out from under their Christmas trees. So, not to be outdone, I give you John the Baptist, with his camel’s hair and leather, his locusts and wild honey, those axes, threshing floors, winnowing forks, and unquenchable fire. Merry Christmas.
But seriously, if you heard Pastor Cogan last week and took advantage of his homework assignment – to make an Advent List of things you’d like for God to remove from your life in preparation for the coming of Christmas and beyond – then I hope the words of John the Baptist aren’t as scary as some have made them out to be over the years. I mean that it’s deeply faithful and profoundly meaningful to see John the Baptist as less of a Grinch and more of a harbinger of hope. It can be life-changing to see that the trees being chopped and the threshing floor being cleared and the chaff being burned don’t have to represent people, for crying out loud, which is what too many have believed for too long in this world.
We don’t have to fear the Lord who’s on the way, in those ways, any longer. Instead, we are invited to look forward to and prepare for God’s coming in Jesus by getting ready for this unquenchable fire of God’s grace as a good and holy thing, instead, that means to lovingly burn away the chaff of our lives – to rid us of the bad stuff like our pride… the sinful stuff like our selfishness… the faith-stealing stuff of our fear, the light-dimming stuff of vengeance and war and more.
John calls us to be rid of it all by way of a good bath, or a thorough pruning, or maybe by setting it out like so much trash at the curb on garbage day.
And while this is all good news – and not nearly as terrible or as scary as many have made John the Baptist’s words out to be – it may not always come easy; there’s some tough love in what John offers up today, too. And it has to do with this call to repentance.
And, my favorite story about repentance is one from my own childhood.
When I was a kid – about seven or eight years old – I was sledding in the winter with my neighbors and very best friends – on a hill not far from where we lived. Our sledding hill was great. It was in the yard of some members of our church, and complete with a creek of running water at the bottom. The creek was small, but deep enough apparently, that it didn’t always freeze in the winter.
Anyway, during an afternoon of sledding and snowmen and snow ball fights, I got into a real, actual fight with one of my best friends, who was and is more like a second big brother to me. (I told this story at his wedding, at which I presided, just a couple of weeks ago, which is why it came to mind again this week.) Anyway, there was yelling and screaming and pushing and pulling and, even though he was 3 years older than me – and bigger and stronger in every way – I somehow managed to push him into the icy water of that creek at the bottom of the hill.
As surprised as I was by whatever strength, good luck, and gravity had worked in my favor, I was just as instantly ashamed and scared and consumed with guilt over what I had done to my friend. I felt bad for whatever fluke had allowed me to win the fight. I felt terrible that my friend was cold and wet and embarrassed by it all. And I was worried, too, about what would happen to both of us once our parents found out. So, in all of my shame and guilt and fear and regret – and with all the wisdom of my seven or eight years – I shouted out my apologies as I did my own wintry version of the Nestea plunge right next to him in the icy water of that creek.
And, even if my repentance was cold and wet and unhelpful in so many ways, it was heartfelt. It was honest. And it came from a real and deep desire to make things right again between my friend and me. I would have undone my transgression altogether if I could have, but that wasn’t possible. So, all I could do was apologize and begin a long, soggy, very cold, frozen walk home.
And I think the tough love of John the Baptist was – and is – an invitation to this kind of repentance. Not that we have to jump into the cold, unforgiving waters of our sinfulness – or that that would accomplish anything more than my Nestea plunge was able to accomplish.
But that we would recognize the fullness of our sins in the light of God’s willingness to do that for us – and more: to jump into the world, I mean … to enter into the cold, frozen waters of our transgressions, I mean … to climb onto the cross and out of the tomb for our sake, I mean. And that once we recognize the fullness of that kind of sacrifice and love, we’ll resolve to do better and different in response to God’s grace.
So, what does that mean for you in these days leading up to Christmas? What does it mean for Christians, waiting on the birth of Jesus, to “bear fruit worthy of repentance?” After all, we’re just as flawed, broken, scared, insecure, imperfect, and hard-hearted as those Pharisees and Sadducees who showed up at the Jordan to be baptized by John. And while repentance is one of the most faithfully Christian things we can practice, it’s not something that comes easy for most of us.
I think to “bear fruit worthy of repentance” means we give ourselves over to grace; we let our guard down; we open our hearts up; we let the cracks of our brokenness show; and we let those cracks be filled with all God has to offer as a loving fix. Repentance is about letting ourselves be vulnerable to the love of God, so that we might be changed by the good news that comes in Jesus.
When we buy that… When we let that Truth into our heads and into our hearts… When we allow that reality to shape and influence our actions and our behavior… that’s when true, deep, faithful repentance will happen. Repentance will come because we will be changed and we will change the ways we live in this world.
Then, I believe, the chaff of our lives – our greed, our pride, our selfishness, and all the rest – will fall away and we’ll be happy and blessed to watch it burn in the unquenchable fire of God’s amazing grace and be drowned by the waters of God’s unrelenting love, until we’re able to share more of the same love, mercy, and forgiveness in Jesus’ name.
Amen
