The Rev. Charleston Wilson
In the Name of the Living God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
This is the second week in a row that our appointed gospel passage prominently features that most famous and frenzied fashionista and forerunner of our Lord Jesus Christ, St. John the Baptist.
Last week he donned his camel hair, ate his locusts and honey and was busy preaching repentance. And this week he ups the ante, preaching repentance with renewed vigor and calling the assembled crowds and religious authorities a “brood of vipers,” or, more literally, a bunch of poisonous snakes.
And despite his signature, provocative style (which I can’t ever imagine bearing much fruit in an Anglican setting) He was actually quite popular – so popular, in fact, that St. Luke tells us the crowds began to question whether or not John was the long-awaited Messiah.
And it’s this questioning, or murmuring, if you will, that really frustrates him the most. He tells the crowds: “The one who is more powerful than I is coming, and I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.” In last week’s appointed Gospel, he did the same thing, pointing beyond himself and saying, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”
At every turn, St. John the Baptist is absolutely clear that he is only preparing the way – and that he himself is not the way.
In the Gospel according to St. John, my point is even stronger. The Evangelist introduces him like this: “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light.”
But the crowds saw it differently. They kept queuing up to behold the whole spectacle.
So out they go – family after family, nosy neighbour after nosy neighbour – to see the possible “messiah sighting” when all St. John the Baptist wants to say is: “Prepare” – “Prepare the way of the Lord.”
The whole scene sort of reminds me of what it’s like this time of year when everybody is queuing up to see Santa at the mall, which is an amazing thing to witness, if you’ve never done so.
It’s similar, to me at least, because, ideally – at least as it was originally conceived – Mall Santa, like St. John the Baptist, is supposed to point to something beyond himself. But, because of the crowds, the whole thing gets twisted into something else.
And, boy, did we see it two weeks ago at Lenox Square Mall in Atlanta. We spent the weekend in Atlanta with my mom and the kids after our religious pilgrimage to the holy land of Alabama to witness that most sacred event, the Iron Bowl – where Auburn and Alabama face off in the biggest rivalry of the year (sadly, the dark side won, but the problem of evil in the world is for another sermon).
Seriously, that queue to sit on Santa’s lap wrapped halfway from Buckhead to Birmingham. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people in one place. It was Sunday afternoon after Thanksgiving, which was our first mistake, so everybody and their brother had turned up to pay $39 dollars – yes, that’s thirty-nine dollars – to have their child photographed screaming in Santa’s lap.
I guess it could be argued that this was no ordinary Santa. This was, after all, the Lenox Square Santa, which is a really posh Santa.
And, sure enough, he was a special Santa. On their website, the company that provides this special Santa describes him this way (I just can’t resist sharing this ridiculous tidbit):
“We reach unparalleled benchmarks by…Creating Magic, Inspiring Smiles, Capturing Memories. We deliver more with genuine, naturally bearded Santas..in fact we currently have naturally bearded Santas at more than 96% of our properties!”
[I can tell you’re advent anxiety has been assuaged now that you know this, right?!?]
Seriously, though, it’s fascinating to me how we all queue up to sit in the fat man’s lap when all he can bring is more stuff – and for some reason never enough batteries to power said stuff.
Now, for the record, I’m not opposed to pictures with Santa. In fact, our children have never missed a year, and we probably won’t miss out this year – although I was shocked to learn, also from Google, that our own UTC Santa of Sarasota is ten dollars more expensive than his Lenox colleague.
So my beef, you see, isn’t with Mall Santa. My beef is how we sort of emotionally project – quietly, even silently – our unspoken hopes and needs onto a fat, old white man in a red suit who can only deliver us more stuff.
And, brothers and sisters, no matter how many presents he delivers, Santa ultimately can’t deliver!
There is only one person who can deliver the perfect love that casts out all fear. There is only one person who can deliver the forgiveness we all need. And there is only one person who can cover our shame and sadness.
And He is coming. And He is coming!
And in only twelve short days we will adore Him as the Christ-Child lying in the manger – the unquestionable proof that God loves us and will do whatever it takes – even becoming one of us – in order to be in a relationship with us.
And this is what St. John the Baptist is desperately trying to tell us.
Advent, therefore, is our time to plan for His arrival – a time to indeed “prepare the way of the Lord.”
My prayer for us this Advent – amidst all the lists and parties and gift-giving – is that we might actually slow down just a bit – just enough to actually ponder what the prophet is trying to tell us:
“On Jordan’s bank the Baptist’s cry
announces that the Lord is nigh;
awake and hearken, for he brings
glad tidings of the King of kings.”
Sermon preached by the Rev. Charleston D. Wilson
The Church of the Redeemer
222 S. Palm Avenue
Sarasota, FL 34236
3rd Sunday of Advent
13 December 2015