Lectionary blog for Dec. 6, 2015
Second Sunday in Advent
Text: Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 1:68-79;
Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6
When I was a real little fella, say about 4 or 5, I spent a great deal of time with my Grandpa Chilton. We lived next door to each other on the same farm and Grandpa and Daddy worked side by side everyday with me and my brother tagging along. In the fall of the year, after school started for my brother and sister and Daddy took a shift at the cotton mill, it was often just Grandpa and me in the basement – getting the cured tobacco ready for market.
In everything related to flue-cured tobacco, Grandpa was a perfectionist. He treated every leaf as though it were made of pure gold and was as delicate as a butterfly’s wing. He sat in a very low chair and picked up each leaf and held it up to the light of the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, sorting it by quality, “grading it” he called it. Then he would take the leaf and smooth it out on his leg, then he would fold it over and smooth it out again, almost like ironing lace doilies or altar linens.
He placed the leaves in separate piles by grade. Eventually he gathered up a fistful of leaves and twisted them into a bundle and, in an action so fast it looked like magic to me, he took an almost perfect leaf and tied it around the top. He never gave up trying to teach me how to do it.
I was no good at grading; all leaves were created equal in my sight. And when I tried to tie a bundle, I made a complete mess – I couldn’t get the ends straight, and when I wrapped a leaf around the top and pulled the stem through to secure the bundle and let it go – it all fell apart onto the floor.
After several attempts, I threw my bundle down in disgust and pleaded, “Come on Grandpa. Show me the easy way.” Grandpa smiled, and shook his head, and shrugged, and said, “Son, I hate to tell you this; this is just one of them things that if you want to do it right, there ain’t no easy way.”
Kirkegaard said the vast majority of Christians would rather be admirers of Jesus than followers of Jesus. Just as it is much easier to sit in the stands or in front of our TV and cheer as our favorite athletes shoot basketballs, or throw touchdown passes, or “bend it like Beckham” into the corner of the goal than it is to come down out of the bleachers and get onto the field; it is much simpler to like Jesus than it is to let your life be changed by him. There ain’t no easy way.
It doesn’t cost us much to admire the moral teaching of Jesus or to enjoy the trappings of a family Christmas. Even the famous atheist Richard Dawkins has called himself a “cultural Christian,” who goes to church on Christmas Eve to sing carols and hear the sweet story about a beautiful baby born in a barn. But if we want to be a Christian, if we want to get serious about God and the holy life, there really is no easy way.
“But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like refiner’s fire and like fuller’s soap … ,” Malachi said, but we respond, “Refiner’s fire? Fuller’s soap? We’re not too sure what those things are, but they don’t sound very pleasant. Gee Lord, do we have to do it this way? Burning up the bad stuff and scrubbing away at the filth and grime of sin until the soul is raw. Is this really necessary? C’mon Lord, show us the easy way.” But there is none.
Bishop Will Willimon tells a story about his first church. He was fresh out of Yale Divinity School and serving a tiny church out in the country in South Carolina. After about six months the young preacher was awfully distressed about low attendance and what seemed to him to be his members’ general disinterest in the church. Young preacher Will went to see the matriarch of the church, Miss Sallie, 85 and going strong. She listened to him for a while and then reached out and patted his hand and said, “Well honey, if you think about it, it’s a wonder anybody comes at all.” Will was taken aback and Miss Sallie saw the look on his face and laughed and said, “Oh honey, it’s not you. You’re doing fine. You preach a nice sermon and all. It’s just that church, if it’s done right, has a way of reminding people of things they’d rather not think about.”
Yes, “church,” if it’s done right, has a way of reminding us of things we’d rather not think about.
Like sin and repentance. Like the call to be righteous and holy. Like the work of filling in valleys and leveling plains, of smoothing out the rough places and making the straight crooked. We prefer the easy way – but there just ain’t no easy way. There’s only the way of Malachi, the way of John the baptizer, the way of Jesus, the way of the cross.
This is not an easy way, but it is also not a way we go alone or do ourselves. The mystery and paradox of the faith is that repentance is simply turning from our own way into the way of God, letting God’s way take over and move our lives. You see, I did, finally, learn how to tie up a bundle of tobacco. Grandpa sat on his short legged chair and sat me on a low stool between his legs and, leaning over me, he took each of my small, soft hands in his large, rough paws. He guided me through as I smoothed out leaves and straightened ends and twisted them into a bundle and tied them around the top until, suddenly I realized I had been doing it on my own while Grandpa sat back and smiled.
“… he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offering to the Lord in righteousness” (Malachi 3:3).
Amen and amen.
