We’ve all received them; some of us have written them.
Remember?
“Our Susie had a perfect score on the SAT’s and at the age of 15 will graduate as valedictorian of her class. With all the Ivy League Schools vying for her, the only difficulty will be trying to decide which school to attend! Our Jamie managed to be Player of the Year on his football team and still win the Tchaikovsky piano competition. In addition to his music and sports, he finds time to volunteer at the local homeless shelter and maintain a 4.0 in all his classes. .. And our precocious little Jennifer…”You know how it goes: we put our competitive foot forward, share the brightest and best of our accomplishments…
No diminishing here!
I wonder how Elizabeth and Zachariah’s Christmas letter might read:
“We’ve had little contact with our son John since he wandered off into the wilderness a few years ago, shouting something about needing to prepare the way of the Lord… If we can’t have the comfort of grandchildren in our old age, it would be nice at least to have the consolation of knowing our John was the long-awaited Messiah, but he seems willing to settle for “second best” and defer to this man, Jesus… ‘He must increase, and I must decrease,’ he says…”Or Anna’s:
“Our little daughter Mary shocked us all by becoming pregnant! Fortunately Joseph, her betrothed, was kind enough to marry her anyway, although both of them protest vehemently that the child is not his, saying something about the ‘Holy Spirit’… We pray the scandal won’t be too hard on Mary – or on her child… ‘The Almighty has done great things for me,’ she says; I can only hope it’s true.”John and Mary don’t exactly fall into the category of parental bragging-rights.
We meet them again today, John the Baptizer and Mary, on “Rose Sunday,” the day when the darkness of Advent brightens with the promise of God’s new creation.
What is it about them that we recognize? A teen mom – and a wilderness man who wags his finger at us and preaches repentance in such a way that it knocks us out of our complacency and into the waters of baptism?
Media studies and communication theory teach us that three elements are important in any message: the content of the message; the messenger him or herself; and the impact of the message on its hearers.
Both Mary and John are messengers, of course: witnesses to the reality of God.
Mary witnesses in quiet humility with her body: “Here I am,” says Mary. “It shall be with me according to your will. I will bear this child…”
John witnesses in the fiery passion of his words and actions: “Repent!” John commands us. “Turn away from your sins, die in the waters of baptism and be reborn, transformed and ready for the coming of the Lord.
There is something compelling in both witnesses: we’re caught up in the tension between the quiet and the strident voices as we let the message wash over us, baptizing us with word and example.
Each voice is authentic, resonating from a “true self,” and not a false persona, and it is the authenticity of that witness which engages us.
Each speaks with a voice which points toward God; “self” seems to fall away as they respond to God’s call. This is not their story. They are players in a drama far bigger than themselves. Who they are and what they do isn’t about them – but about the God who works through them, the God who grows in their being, whose paths they proclaim…” Each is an instrument in the birth of a new creation, “decreasing oneself,” to paraphrase John the Baptist, “that he may increase.”
The message itself is arresting: this isn’t about whitening your teeth, or a younger, sexier image, either through a particular brand of clothing or a fifteen minute a day workout with your new “bowflex” exercise equipment.
This message matters, not by creating a need, but by responding to one: it speaks to the darkness and despair of a people waiting for hope, waiting for God’s promise of the Messiah. It holds up the promise of a new creation in which righteousness displaces purity, and repentance leads to a salvation accessible to all. It promises an ideal attainable in society, a world in which the mighty are cast down and the lowly uplifted; the hungry are fed; and God’s mercy abounds.
Sound good?
Or, can we even hear that message in a culture of youth and beauty, extreme sports, celebrity, fame, and fortune?
Can we feel the impact of such promises when we live in a middle-class culture where our experiences of hunger or terror come through the media, and our own lives are relatively free of oppression?
Or, perhaps in our culture, we hear the message through our interior wilderness layers of loneliness, anxiety, depression, and addiction where many of us are held hostage?
We prayed today, the Collect for Advent 3: “Stir up your power, O Lord, and with great might come among us!”
We long for the impact of this message! The promise of God is powerful!
Imagine a world filled with these promises:
- A world in which we live long and fully and well;
- A world in which our children have the promise of a future into which they can grow and live.
- A world in which God anticipates our every need.
- A world in which there is peace, even among traditional enemies, and no one will inflict harm on another.
We hear of it – God’s promises in Isaiah, and again from Mary and John, whose lives were certainly stirred up by God’s power.
Dare we hope for such a world?
Do we feel the message stirring inside us?
Can we even imagine such a world?
Quietly or stridently, Mary and John each bears witness to God’s new creation, the incarnation in the world, not through proof texts or rational explanations, but from their own experiences, their own encounters with the God who has stirred up and transformed their lives.
They have had an experience of God.
In his book, Testimony: Talking Ourselves into Being Christian, Thomas G. Long (p. 93) comments that because we live in a scientific age, “we may think we base our knowledge and decision-making on hard evidence, but in fact we live life mainly on the basis of testimony. Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.”
It is experience, shared.
Everyday life is dependent on people’s speaking truthful words to us.
Mary and John reach across the centuries, reach through the pages of Scripture, stirring us up, perhaps, as they bear the Good News of Jesus: “Prepare the way of the Lord,” they cry. “The Messiah is coming!”
Their experience, and their witness, engages us and makes us part of the story.
Can we feel the Messiah, nascent, waiting to be born in our lives?
Can we feel that incarnate God stirring within us, stirring up our lives, ready to break open our hearts, claim us?
Which brings me back to those Christmas letters.
What might our Christmas letter look like this year – a real, authentic account of who we are and where we are in our lives right now?
Can we give our own witness about the transformation from despair to hope that God has brought us? Isn’t that a significant part of our Good News this year, and a wonderful gift we can give others? Can we share our relationship with God, and the faith which has meant so much to us?
I read somewhere that sharing faith is simply “one beggar telling another beggar where to find food.” And there are a lot of hungry people out there!
So… how might that letter read?
“Dear Friends:Amen.
It’s been a typical year – but not! Oh, the ordinary things have happened – crises of one sort or another – but somehow I’ve felt so blessed! I’ve met Jesus, over and over again, in my friends and family and my church community here at Messiah, and they have loved and supported and sustained me in ways I never knew possible. Truly I know what is meant by “living waters,” for the Almighty has indeed gone great things!
May the blessings of this Christmas season be with you and your family, and may you, too, know the joy of God’s new creation in your life!
Love,
Me.”
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