Showing posts with label Luke 3:7-18. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke 3:7-18. Show all posts

Saturday, December 15, 2012

What then shall we do?

Third Sunday of Advent,
Zephaniah 3:14-20,
Canticle 9,
Philippians 4:4-7,
Luke 3:7-18,


If there is no forgiveness in us,
            there is no cause for celebration.”
– Ann Weems, “The Cross in the Manger”, Kneeling in Bethlehem, (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980) 77.


Near the end of the gospel of Luke we come across the story of a pair of disciples who are refugees from disaster. After the trauma, loss and grief of Holy Week in Jerusalem, they set out for a village seven miles away from the city. On the way they cannot help but talk over everything that has happened. They look sad. And then they meet a stranger on the road.

What are you talking about?
Don’t you know? Are you the only one who hasn’t heard about what’s been happening?

What about?
About Jesus, they say: Jesus of Nazareth.

We really thought he was the One. That he would be the one to lead us – to redeem us – to be our savior.

We thought everything was going to be all right. This was going to be a peaceful place, free from danger and trouble.

And yet he stepped into the thick of it – and was crucified for his pains. And now we hear they cannot even find his body.

O my dear friends. Your minds have been darkened by grief. Haven’t you been paying attention to what is really going on?

Didn’t you know that Christ had to go through suffering and death, that the road of Jesus leads to the Cross – and only then to glory?

God made us mortal
         because he loves us
         because he loves us
God became one of us
         in Christ Jesus
he shared our nature
         our sorrows, our grief, our joys –
and he is with you now!
         walking beside you
though you may not know it
         or see that it is he
until you share
in the brokenness
and the outpouring of compassion
that is his supper
that is the supper he presides over
a thanksgiving and a memorial meal

This is my body, broken for you. This is my blood, poured out for you.

All this he spoke: good news
to two people attempting to flee from the wrath that had come.

Afraid, alone, discouraged, in despair
 – but they had been baptized –
and so their eyes are opened
and they turn
         toward home
to spread the news.

The people who went out to John in the wilderness:
why did they go?

To be baptized, sure, to see a miracle, maybe,
and maybe to buy some fire insurance.

They could see bad times coming.

But why did they stay?

John offered no spiritual anesthesia.

Why did they say, “What then shall we do?”

These are the people who respond to the call to conversion.

What then shall we do? they ask –
if coming for a magic baptism is not it,
what are we supposed to do?

How are we to live?

John says it begins with honesty.

Be satisfied with your wages. Treat people fairly.

It begins simply,
with small actions
day to day
that turn you
into the right road.

And it continues in transformation –
which is painful: preparation for the new life to come.

In the midst of disaster – and these people knew disaster – these, newly baptized, would become the ones to bring hope and peace to a traumatized world, comfort to the people.

The first people to read this gospel of Luke were people who knew tragedy and disaster: the death of Jesus, the destruction of the Temple, the reduction of the holy city to rubble.

And yet, there was hope – not despite of, or in avoidance of, the pain of the world, but in sure knowledge that God is present with us in suffering and even in the midst of tragedy he is victorious. In the midst of it God is with us. 

O come Emmanuel – GOD WITH US – comfort your people. Build our strength.

Stir up, O Lord,
the wills of your faithful people;
that plenteously bearing the fruit of good works
they may herald the coming of your kingdom;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.


Serene Jones, Trauma and Grace: Theology in a Ruptured World, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009) 23-42.


Saturday, December 12, 2009

seen from a mountain-top

Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us; through Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be honor and glory, now and for ever. Amen.

Collect for the xxv Sondaye after Trinity (1549, 1552, 1559)

STIERE [Stir] up we beseche thee, O Lord, the wylles of thy faythfull people, that they, plenteously bringing furth the fruite of good workes; may of thee, be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christe our Lorde. Amen.

Zephaniah 3:14-20

Sing aloud, O daughter Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem!
The LORD has taken away the judgments against you,
he has turned away your enemies.
The king of Israel, the LORD, is in your midst;
you shall fear disaster no more.
On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
Do not fear, O Zion;
do not let your hands grow weak.
The LORD, your God, is in your midst,
a warrior who gives victory;
he will rejoice over you with gladness,
he will renew you in his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing
as on a day of festival.
I will remove disaster from you,
so that you will not bear reproach for it.
I will deal with all your oppressors
at that time.
And I will save the lame
and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise
and renown in all the earth.
At that time I will bring you home,
at the time when I gather you;
for I will make you renowned and praised
among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes
before your eyes, says the LORD.

Canticle 9 (Page 86, BCP) The First Song of Isaiah, Ecce Deus (Isaiah 12:2-6)

Surely, it is God who saves me; *
I will trust in him and not be afraid.
For the Lord is my stronghold and my sure defense, *
and he will be my Savior.
Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing *
from the springs of salvation.
And on that day you shall say, *
Give thanks to the Lord and call upon his Name;
Make his deeds known among the peoples; *
see that they remember that his Name is exalted.
Sing the praises of the Lord, for he has done great things, *
and this is known in all the world.
Cry aloud, inhabitants of Zion, ring out your joy, *
for the great one in the midst of you is the Holy One of Israel.
Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit: *
as it was in the beginning, is now, and will be for ever. Amen.


Philippians 4:4-7

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Luke 3:7-18

John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. Even 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."

And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?" In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." 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." Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages."

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, John answered all of them by saying, "I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

* * * * *

Robert Louis Stevenson, “The Sea Fogs”, The Silverado Squatters, (London: Chattus & Windus, 1883)

One Sunday morning, about five, the first brightness called me… The sun was still concealed below the opposite hilltops, though it was shining already, not twenty feet above my head, on our own mountain slope. But the scene, beyond a few near features, was entirely changed. Napa valley was gone; gone were all the lower slopes and woody foothills of the range; and in their place, not a thousand feet below me, rolled a great level ocean. It was as though I had gone to bed the night before, safe in a nook of inland mountains, and had awakened in a bay upon the coast… Far away were hilltops like little islands. Nearer, a smoky surf beat about the foot of precipices and poured into all the coves of these rough mountains. The colour of that fog ocean was a thing never to be forgotten. For an instant, among the Hebrides and just about sundown, I have seen something like it on the sea itself. But the white was not so opaline; nor was there, what surprisingly increased the effect, that breathless, crystal stillness over all. Even in its gentlest moods the salt sea travails, moaning among the weeds or lisping on the sand; but that vast fog ocean lay in a trance of silence, nor did the sweet air of the morning tremble with a sound… An eagle, or some other very great bird of the mountain, came wheeling over the nearer pine-tops, and hung, poised and something sideways, as if to look abroad on that unwonted desolation, spying, perhaps with terror, for the eyries of her comrades. Then, with a long cry, she disappeared again towards Lake County and the clearer air.



John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath (1939)

All night they bored through the hot darkness, and jackrabbits scuttled into the lights and dashed away in long jolting leaps. And the dawn came up behind them when the lights of Mojave were ahead. And the dawn showed high mountains to the west. They filled with water and oil at Mojave and crawled into the mountains, and the dawn was about them.

Tom said, "Jesus, the desert's past! Pa, Al, for Christ sakes! The desert's past!"

"I'm too goddamn tired to care," said Al.

"Want me to drive?"

"No, wait awhile."

They drove through Tehachapi in the morning glow, and the sun came up behind them, and then suddenly they saw the great valley below them. Al jammed on the brake and stopped in the middle of the road, and, "Jesus Christ! Look!" he said. The vineyards, the orchards, the great flat valley, green and beautiful, the trees set in rows, and the farmhouses.

And Pa said, "God Almighty!" The distant cities, the little towns in the orchard land, and the morning sun, golden on the valley. A car honked behind them. Al pulled to the side of the road and parked.

"I want ta look at her." The grain fields golden in the morning, and the willow lines, the eucalyptus trees in rows.

Pa sighed, "I never knowed they was anything like her."

The peach trees and the walnut groves, and the dark green patches of oranges. And red roofs among the trees, and barns rich barns. Al got out and stretched his legs.

He called, "Ma-come look. We're there!"

Ruthie and Winfield scrambled down from the car, and then they stood, silent and awestruck, embarrassed before the great valley. The distance was thinned with haze, and the land grew softer and softer in the distance. A windmill flashed in the sun, and its turning blades were like a little heliograph, far away. Ruthie and Winfield looked at it, and Ruthie whispered, "It's California."

Winfield moved his lips silently over the syllables. "There's fruit," he said aloud.

Casy and Uncle John, Connie and Rose of Sharon climbed down. And they stood silently. Rose of Sharon had started to brush her hair back, when she caught sight of the valley and her hand dropped slowly to her side.

Tom said, "Where's Ma? I want Ma to see it. Look, Ma! Come here, Ma." Ma was climbing slowly, stiffly, down the backboard. Tom looked at her. "My God, Ma, you sick?"

Her face was stiff and putty-like, and her eyes seemed to have sunk deep into her head, and the rims were red with weariness. Her feet touched the ground and she braced herself by holding the truck-side.

Her voice was a croak. "Ya say we're acrost?"

Tom pointed to the great valley. "Look!"

She turned her head, and her mouth opened a little. Her fingers went to her throat and gathered a little pinch of skin and twisted gently. "Thank God!" she said. "The fambly's here." Her knees buckled and she sat down on the running board.


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The Third Sunday of Advent, Year C, RCL

Zephaniah 3:14-20, Canticle 9, Ecce Deus, Isaiah 12:2-6, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18.

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