"Coming after me"-Sermon for Advent 2, Matthew 3:1-13:
So, I am an admitted and well-documented lover of the Christmas romance movie genre. I come by it honestly, as my mother more or less doesn’t turn off the Hallmark Channel this time of year. Now, I do recognize the significant shortcomings of these films…that they all have the exact same plot, that Disney-esque happy endings are not reflective of most people’s experiences in our world that is so often full of disappointment and pain, that Christmas time is full of conflicted feelings for many…a reminder of love lost as much as love found, that not all interpersonal problems, even in families, are easily resolved or sometimes even possible to resolve, and this is all before I even get into the problematic images of race, gender and money that often fill the scenes of, at least, some of these movies. But, still, I find myself drawn in, and will admit I even get a little weepy as expressions of new love are discovered…as an unexpected connection is made…providing, at least, me a brief respite from the real-life challenges that I just noted. Brene Brown writes, “You can eat a piece of chocolate as a holy wafer of sweetness — a real comfort — or you can cram an entire chocolate bar into your mouth without even tasting it in a frantic attempt to soothe yourself — a shadow comfort". And so, perhaps, when such films are consumed in moderation, the brief respite they provide is, indeed, a kind of sweetness…found in the passion of a new love kindled…of new connections forged.
Which is all to say that I took in my first such movie over the Thanksgiving holiday. It is called “Champagne Problems”. It’s on Netflix and not the Hallmark Channel, which just means slightly higher production value and slightly more adult content…otherwise they are all exactly the same. To this end, I will not repeat the plot in “Champagne Problems” …because you already know exactly what happens and exactly how it ends without me telling you any of it. But, I will say this story is set in France. And, in a scene between one of the love interests and the father of the other, the father, who is French and owns a champagne vineyard…because of course he does…he tells her that in the French language, and I have no idea if this is correct because I know little about the French language, but the father tells her that in French they don’t say “I miss you” like we do in English, when we are missing someone we care for if separated by distance or disagreement…but, instead, they say “you are missing from me”. You are missing from me…missing from my life and so my life is not complete…not whole…without you entirely in it. And, friends, this has stuck with me for days now. The difference between the two phrases is both a little thing and a huge thing…the idea that I don’t just wish we were together…but, instead, in some meaningful way my life is missing something that it really, really needs in your absence. Leave it to the French to nail the language of love…right!
And, believe it or not, this scene from the movie came roaring back into my mind as I sat down to read, pray and prepare a sermon on the Gospel lesson that we just heard together. Now, admittedly the scene in the Gospel doesn’t feel very romantic. Well…not really at all. John the Baptist living in the wilderness, dressed in roughhewn animal pelts, forging for food off the land, crying out like a madman outside the bounds of polite society and civilization is clearly no well-polished heir to a French chateau and vineyard. And, his message is not full of poetic language…lovely and inspiring verse that makes the heart swoon…quotes from beloved French literature like the “Little Prince”. Instead, he cries out things like, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruit worthy of repentance…. 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.” Romantic…right! And, yet…and yet…Matthew tells us people from Jerusalem, the seat of power and privilege in Israel, and all the surrounding region, people from far and wide, are flocking to John…streaming to him…like those drawn to a new-found love…like he is someone they have fallen madly in love with and simply cannot be without…someone they would climb any mountain, ford any river to be with.
Over the Thanksgiving holiday my father-in-law, Glenn, was regaling me with stories of working on his uncle’s shrimp boat. He worked on it for two summers in his late teens, leaving home for weeks at a time to traverse wind and wave on the Gulf of Mexico. He was the ship’s cook. Slaving away in the bowels of the boat to keep hard working, hungry men fed and fueled up. And, though hard work, he told me he enjoyed life on the sea and the many adventures that followed…until…until he met and fell madly in love with Mary…my mother-in-law…and that changed everything. Weeks away from home felt like an eternity. He said at night when he could see the glow of the lights from land a long way off his heart would ache. He wanted to jump off the side of the boat and swim to shore…an impossible task…simply to be with her. Mary was missing from Glenn’s life and he felt very incomplete. Needless to say, the life of a shrimper was short lived for Glenn.
Now, though John the Baptist does not in any way resemble a leading love interest in some silly Christmas romance movie, maybe…just maybe…his fiery passion does. And, people are, again, drawn to that passion…not to John…but the one to whom his passion points. The one whose sandals he is not worthy to carry…the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit and fire…to God who is all consuming love…found in the life of Jesus. You see, I think these people realize they are missing someone…or better said…that someone is missing from them…someone who they need to be complete…to be whole. They find in themselves a passion to be utterly consumed by that fiery love that does not destroy those whom it envelopes…but, instead, both burns away what is hurting and hard and broken and feels shameful and…and forges them with an unbreakable bond to the love that made them...that makes us…from everlasting to everlasting. It is really important to note that when John says that Jesus will clear his threshing floor, he means that Jesus will clear all of it…no grain of wheat is left behind…the floor is entirely cleared. And, when he says the chaff of each grain of wheat will be burned with unquenchable fire…that chaff is not the whole of the grain of wheat…it is the hard part of the grain that is keeping it from fulfilling its God intended purpose, which is to fill and feed the soul of the world. So, not a single grain of wheat is lost…not one…and only the hard parts of them are burned away…and God knows I need that…we all need that.
Advent is a time to remember that God is, at least at times, missing from our lives, leaving us incomplete. And, Advent is a time to rediscover our own love driven passion for the one to whom John’s own passion points us. A passion kindled in worship and prayer and service to those hurting in our world…those who are missing our love more than we can know. A passion, once lit, that fires in us an all-consuming desire to climb any mountain, ford any river, jump off the side of the boat and swim…with all our might…that we might discover, fall even more in love with and connect more entirely with the One missing from us…who is not really found in some fiery furnace…but to where Advent leads…to a manger…where the fire of God’s love is kindle in the birth of a child, who gently melts away all that is hard in and for us…and who binds us to himself with an unbreakable bond…making us complete…making us whole. Amen.