An urgent and gracious invitation

This is the second week in a row we’re hearing about John the Baptist, and you know what’s really special about him? Nothing! Well, not nearly as much as you think!

Yeah, sure, he starts out by calling people names, and it sure seems like he’s knocking heads and talking names when he says to the crowd that has come out to hear him: “You brood of vipers, who told you to flee the wrath to come?”

Well, John, if you really want to know, you did!

All these people came out into the desert near the Jordan River to hear John preach and also to receive his baptism signifying their repentance and their need for forgiveness. You remember what “Repentance” means, right? It’s a change of mind; a decision to go in a new direction. Repentance for the forgiveness of sins involves accepting responsibility for what you have done. When one publicly repents, they are saying that they are participating in a sinful and broken world, that they are benefiting from the brokenness around them, and they commit to going in a better direction. So taking part in John’s baptism was a ritual cleansing that signified their commitment to walk in that new direction.

But when St. John Baptist looked out at all these people he wasn’t very convinced!

John’s ministry was well-known and popular and the crowds had people of all sorts of motivations and intentions. Some took John’s preaching to heart, some wanted to see a good show, some wanted John to bless their choices and behavior while not really changing very much. And some people who came out would fall back on their earnest commitment to the Traditions they’d always been taught. But John would have none of it: “Don’t tell me how you have Abraham for your ancestor! Bear fruit worthy of repentance.”

Ouch! I gotta tell you, as a card-carrying cradle Episcopalian, that really hurts!

A lot of us Christians like to think that being Christian means being a good person, but “good” is not the point. Too often, we like to divide people into groups of “good” and “bad” people, and isn’t is fascination how we always put ourselves in the pile of “good” people—and all the others are, well, not. So much violence has been done by Christians who justified the persecution and oppression of others, because they thought themselves to be the “good” people and others were not.

So when John says, “You brood of vipers,” I get kind of nervous. I mean, I want to be a good person, a good Christian… who really wants to be a “bad” person, anyway?

But if you listen carefully to what St. John Baptist is saying, he is not saying to be good people. Instead,  he says, “Bear fruits worthy of repentance.” In other words, change the direction of what you’re doing, stop worrying about whether you’re a good person, or the “right sort of person,” or not—and start doing the things in your life that are worthy of and communicate the love of God that you have been receiving all along. People ask him what he means, and he tells them.

We tend to think of St. John Baptist was that hair-raising, outlandish radical in his teaching, and we assume that he expected huge things of people that absolutely no one could satisfy. But that isn’t true at all! What he tells the people to do were exactly the things that were commanded in the law: If you encounter someone who doesn’t have adequate clothes and you have enough, give them your extra coat, and if someone is hungry, feed them. It turns out that it’s not rocket science, like maybe we thought it was. The point is to respond decently and generously the next time we are faced with human need.

So when soldiers and tax collectors came to John and asked “what shall we do?” he didn’t say quit your jobs, or overthrow Caesar. He said like ethically and decently. What God requires is not dramatic, nor anything to brag about.

As I have gotten to know the folks at St. John’s these past five or six months, it’s what I consistently noticed in this community. There is concern for others, there is generosity—not ostentatious, or big, or glamorous but looking to make sure people who are hurting or in need are taken care of.

But here’s the thing: repentance is an ongoing process. It is often challenging; and it can be a painful process, especially when we realize the way we have given in to being fearful or selfish or when we get selective about who will or won’t welcome, or in how we are selective in accepting change in our community. But the key is that we are striving to be practically decent and faithful people—decent to one another, decent to people out there in the world, and faithful to God and our baptismal promises, and maybe most especially, decent and caring to those who might earn our annoyance.

If you don’t believe me, look at what John says to those Roman soldiers and tax collectors who come to him and asking what they should do in order to repent. These  were not well like people, and there was a lot not to like because they were agents of oppression of the Judean people—imperiling their lives who had no one to protect them or exacting heavy taxes from a populace who had very little. Notice that John does not tell them is not to leave their jobs or to become radically poor, or anything along those lines. What he tells the tax collectors is simply “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” And the soldiers, “Don’t extort by threats of violence or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”  Both of those things were simply what was legal and prescribed in the Roman law. But everyone knew that tax collectors became wealthy by overcharging the people they were entitled to tax, especially those who had no influence or ability to push back. Likewise, soldiers were widely known for intimidating the populace for no real purpose other than to make themselves more comfortable and powerful. Actual repentance would make a real difference in how the tax collectors and the soldiers lived. What’s more, it would make a real difference in how the people they had power over lived. Actual repentance would change how we live today. Briefly stated, repentance is the change from fearfulness and selfishness about our own comfort, to being decent, generous people; people who trust God to provide enough so that all can mutually thrive.

The Apostle Paul says the same thing in a positive way in this passage from his letter to his friends at Philippi: “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.” (Philippians 4:5-7)

In other words, let the way you deal with anyone demonstrate kindness, decency, gentleness. It’s not a matter of showing the “good people” that you are a “good person,” but rather that we deal fairly and graciously with everyone.

When Paul says, “The Lord is near,” we might expect that amid all the prophetic and apocalyptic imagery of Advent, that this is an announcement of God’s judgement. Maybe it is. But not in the way think. Paul is saying that God’s judgement is, “Do not worry.” Even though he was imprisoned when he wrote this, Paul could say in confidence that everything should be taken in thanksgiving to God.”

It turns out that John the Baptist’s call was not a harangue but an invitation. An invitation to repentance, a God-sent invitation that we our lives and behavior will be properly aligned with the love that God had been given to us from the very beginning. “Bear the fruits of repentance,” he said. Ultimately those fruits are generosity, thankfulness, and joy.

As Paul said to the Christians in Philippi, “Rejoice in the Lord always…! And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”