sermon

God’s way of making the world safe for children is to risk becoming a child and leading us into the way of peace.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The First Sunday of Christmas, year A
Texts: Matthew 2:13-23

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

This is a brutal story. A violent, paranoid king murders children to calm his fear.

It doesn’t help to say “at least Jesus survived.” It’s still a terrible story that’s not very welcome just days after celebrating Christmas. But every three years we hear this story on the First Sunday of Christmas. And this year, this Sunday falls on December 28, which actually is the feast of the Holy Innocents on the calendar.

This story hits far too close to home. The death of the children at Annunciation this past year was in our neighborhood. But there are so many massacres of children and adults all over this country on such a regular basis it’s hard to keep them straight. And in these days, to see a particular population targeted mercilessly by a ruler, well, that hits pretty close to home, too.

So why do we have to hear this now, at this time of year? Who cares if the tradition is that we do – can’t we just focus on “all is calm, all is bright” and have a respite?

We could. Except that misses the whole point of Christmas.

This world isn’t safe for children, or for the vulnerable. It’s incredibly dangerous.

And that’s why God came to us this way. God risked the salvation of the entire world on becoming one of us as a child in a world dangerous for children. God came to live with us, to grow as we grow, to bring about a healed world. Not to take over the world and fix it by force. But to lead the world back into love of God and love of neighbor. Even if the world killed the Son of God.

God cannot force us to be good. All the power to create a universe can’t do that. God can only lead us to be good. Lead us to be loving. Invite us to be our true selves, as God made us. Reveal the true power of self-giving love.

And the stakes are enormous. It’s entirely possible that this plan will fail, that people will go on being evil and the world will never get better. The last 2,000 years haven’t been promising.

But what if we’re missing the truth the good news, right in front of our ears?

You know when a baby or a young child has a meltdown, full volume?

It’s nearly impossible to hear yourself think. You can’t talk them through it, they’re screaming too loud. You can’t reason with a young child in such a state, either.

That’s God’s problem with us. Our noise, our conflict, our unwillingness to be changed, make it nearly impossible to hear what God is doing. Nearly impossible for God to get through to us.

There’s a stanza in “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear” that mostly gets omitted from hymn books. But that stanza, the one usually omitted, speaks as none of the others do to the pain and suffering of a world that is dangerous for children, a world full of oppression and wickedness. It says:

Yet with the woes of sin and strife the world has suffered long;
Beneath the heavenly hymn have rolled two thousand years of wrong;
And warring humankind hears not the tidings which they bring.

For 2,000 years the world has suffered in spite of the angels’ song of peace on earth, good will to all. The noise of our chaos, our fighting, our self-centeredness, our fear, overwhelms the song of the angels. Our need for God to be what we want God to be instead of who God really is closes our ears.

To be fair, from our point of view this plan isn’t a good one.

It’s inefficient, it’s risky, it makes little sense. It would have been neater and cleaner for God to take over the world and bring peace by force. And some days we wish God would do that. That’s our noise, too, our yelling – we can see only the way we would make things right. Anything else seems weak and ineffective.

But what if we actually stopped our complaints long enough to hear what God is doing, and has done? To understand that God has come to be in our hearts, to live with us and to change us. To bring peace to our lives and world through you. Through me. Through all who listen.

Love that is forced is not love. But love that is given, love that is willing to lose everything, that love has the strength to face the suffering and evil of this world and transform it into the peace on earth the angels promised. The peace on earth God always intended.

This is how God will make this world safe for children. And for you.

By putting you and me in front of them with our love. By changing our hearts so we work to make this world safe for them. By leading you, and me, and all people by the hand, until all are living in love of God and neighbor. That’s always the plan. And if you listen deeply, you’ll hear that in fact this love and peace has spread around the world in spite of all the evil and pain. It has touched you. It has touched others through you.

And if you can’t hear that, well, here’s the last line of that omitted stanza:

“Oh, hush the noise and cease your strife, and hear the angels sing.”

That’s where you can start today. Hush the noise of your complaining that God doesn’t come like you want and listen to the joy that God is already here. Hush the noise of your struggles with yourself and with others, the noise of self-centeredness, the noise of shouting at each other, the noise of hatred, the noise of wars, the noise of your fears, the noise of your mind overwhelmed by so much.

Hush all that noise and listen to the peace God is actually giving you. And all people. Listen to how this will actually work. Listen to the angels sing. They’ve got something very important to say.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

If you want to see what the Triune God is really like, look at Jesus. If you want to know what you could really look like, start there, too.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Nativity of Our Lord, Christmas Day
Texts: Hebrews 1:1-4, John 1:1-14 (adding v. 18) (also referring to Luke 2:1-20 and other Scriptures)

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

We assume God is in disguise on this day.

The almighty and eternal Triune God hides all that glory and God-ness inside a little baby, born to a poor refugee family in the Middle East. The Trinity hides in a human infant, with human DNA, vulnerable, weak, threatened. As Martin Luther taught us to sing and to wonder: “O Lord, you have created all! How did you come to be so small, to sweetly sleep in manger-bed where lowing cattle lately fed?”[1]

But today the writer to the Hebrews declares a different wonder: “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory,” they write, “and the exact imprint of God’s very being.”

The Triune God isn’t in disguise in Jesus at all. In Jesus everything true about God is known.

It isn’t how we’ve usually understood Christmas, for good reasons.

One is John’s proclamation: the Word of God from before all time, through whom all things were made, without whom not one thing was created, took on human flesh, lived among us. Isn’t that God hiding all God’s glory in that little baby?

And Paul has told us that Christ did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped but took on our human flesh, became obedient even to death. (Philippians 2) Isn’t that God setting aside all God-things to become one of us?

Hebrews doesn’t quarrel with either John or Paul. What Hebrews declares is that being born among us is not God changing, or hiding God’s true essence. It is God revealing the exact truth about God. “Not regarding equality with God as something to be grasped” is actually God’s deepest nature, not a new thing. God taking on human flesh, living among us, is the only way to truly know and see God. John tells us that himself today.

Because the Son is the exact imprint, literally the exact engraving, of God’s very being.

If you want to see what God looks like, Hebrews says, look at Jesus. Look at this vulnerable, weak, poor, oppressed baby – it’s the exact imprint of God. It’s who God is. Follow this vulnerable baby to adulthood and see Jesus, the one who guides all to the heart of God. Who continues to be vulnerable, and apparently weak. Who reveals God’s deepest love in dying on the cross. All this is God’s true identity.

And, Hebrews says, the Son is – is – the reflection of God’s glory. Not a hiding of it. Not something we have to wait till Transfiguration to see. Risky, vulnerable, self-giving love, willing to die for another, willing to trust us enough to be a fragile baby in our midst, that is – is – the reflection of God’s glory, not a disguise covering God’s glory.

This completely changes our talk of God.

Everything that we wonder about God, ask about God, fear about God, are confused about God, is answered in Jesus, the Son, Hebrews says.

So, is God just? Look at Jesus and you find the answer: yes. Does God care for and identify with those who are on the margins, those who hunger and thirst both physically and spiritually? Look at Jesus and you find the answer: yes. Can God forgive and love those who hurt and harm, who sin, even greatly? Look at Jesus and you find the answer: yes.

Does God believe power and force and violence are the way to heal the creation, make things right? Look at the baby Jesus and you find the answer: no. Look at the adult Jesus, the life he taught, the path he walked, and you find the answer: no. Can God overcome evil and death without power and force and violence? Look at the crucified and risen Christ and you find the answer: yes.

The Son reveals the truth of the Trinity.

This completely changes how you can see yourself, too.

In Genesis 1, God says, “let us create humanity in our image, according to our very being.”

You are, I am, all people are, made in the very image of God, too, created according to God’s very being. When you see Jesus, you see the completion of that image, God in God’s fullness. The exact imprint, the reflection of God’s glory.

But you, and I, and all people, are created according to that same divine blueprint, that same divine Logos as John calls it. And God said, “it is good,” when God made us, remember?

We certainly live in ways that debase that image, that aren’t good. The evil humans have done grieves us and grieves God. It builds up and corrupts over time to the point where this world is overrun by systems and structures that perpetuate evil and oppression. And each of us is capable of doing our own harm, our own evil. Living against our true nature.

But never forget: you are made in God’s image. Your true nature cannot be denied.

And if you’ve covered up that image, or marred it, or need to remember what God really looks like and what you could really look like, well, start today.

In the manger. Here you see the exact imprint of God’s very being. The reflection of God’s glory. All you need to know about the Triune God is shown here. And in the love and path Jesus taught and walked all the way to the cross, all you need to know about your love and path are shown. In rising from the dead, the Son revealed God’s vulnerable, self-giving love can never be overcome. Not even by death. Not even by you.

God’s not in disguise today. Neither does your God-image need to be hidden. Look to the manger and see God’s glory. See God’s truth and yours. And rejoice, because God only can be known in someone small and fragile and weak like you. Like me.

It’s who God really is. And who you really are. And it will change the world.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

[1] From ELW 268, “From Heaven Above,” stanza 9, Martin Luther, 1483-1546; tr. Lutheran Book of Worship, copyright 1978.

We’ve known for two millennia the kind of rule God intends to establish on this earth: a rule won heart by heart, in the most powerless places, until life is full and abundant for all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Nativity of Our Lord, Christmas Eve
Texts: Luke 2:1-20

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

It was always Bethlehem, not Jerusalem.

In Jerusalem, in the seat of power, the great Herod fretted over news that another king was born. No divine announcement came to him. In Rome, not even the Emperor knew anything was happening.

But on a hillside outside a tiny little town in the Judean wilderness, bright messengers of the One True God announced to outsiders that a child was born who was the Anointed One, who would rule the world in peace for all, not just a few.

It was never going to be Jerusalem where God would come. Always Bethlehem.

We just seem to forget this.

Maybe because the Jerusalems, the Romes, the Washingtons, run our world.

People with power oppress and dominate others to get what they want. The world has worked this way for so long, it’s not surprising this way of the true God gets missed or ignored, even by those of us who claim to follow this Child.

People like the trains to run on time. We like to be comfortable, not messy. We like order, not chaos. We want to feel safe, and that means people in every generation are willing to let whoever’s running the show run the show. As long as we think we’re OK, don’t ask too many questions.

And so systems get built over centuries that keep the majority of the world’s people in poverty and suffering while a small number prosper. Colonialism and capitalism, terrible bedfellows, still control others at will, and those in power remain the same, some ruling in subtler ways than Herod, and some ruling with just as much open wickedness as his. Bethlehem today can witness to this. So can so many of our neighbors.

So if this Child is the way God is coming to rule this world, it can be hard to see how.

But if we’d been paying attention, we could have known.

From the beginning, it was Bethlehem, not Jerusalem, where God would come.

Micah’s truth of Bethlehem says it: Bethlehem is one of the little clans of Judah, but from that smallness will come God’s ruler. Matthew changes it to say Bethlehem is “by no means” the least. He’s wrong. Bethlehem actually was small and insignificant. That’s the point.

The world’s seats of power, where people run the show, are ignored when God comes to rule. God comes to a small town, overlooked by the world, and is born among us. The people who come and see are the small people, the ordinary.

That’s where we will be, too, if we want to follow.

From the beginning, it was in poverty, not wealth, in weakness, not power, that God would rule.

Like the majority of the world’s peoples, this family from Nazareth lived day to day, as best they could, always on the edge.

The wealthy have built a world that protects their wealth. They think they’re in charge, and since many of us are also people of wealth, sometimes we think the same. We might consider letting go of a little for others. But we never quite do the overthrow it would take to make all people be able to live.

God wants nothing to do with people of wealth who want to control, who won’t let go of what they have while others starve. The true God-with-us is born into a family with no influence or control, no wealth or power.

That’s where we will be, too, if we want to follow.

From the beginning, it was in a refugee family relying on the kindness of strangers that God would save.

This little family is pushed around by foreign powers just before the birth, and treks to Bethlehem. Just after the birth, their own ruler wants the child dead, so they become refugees, fleeing to another country. They are homeless, like so many of our neighbors today. Refugees, like so many who are being rounded up as animals today, without benefit of law or due process.

While those in charge rail against such people as a threat, because Herod is still ruling today, this is the way God chooses to come to us. To identify with the outsider, the alien, the refugee, and become an outsider, an alien, a refugee. Setting aside heavenly power, fleeing as a family from earthly power, dying at the hands of earthly power, God shows the truth about power: it’s a lie, and destructive, and leads to death. We could have known this all along, too; because our God rules from a cross.

This is Christ’s path. It will be ours, too, if we want to follow.

We have known this from the beginning, if sometimes we’ve forgotten.

God’s whole plan of rule is to win over our hearts, one by one, by coming among us as the least, and showing us that identifying with the least and the last is the way of life for the universe, and for us. When we give our hearts to such a God, we follow the same path of vulnerability and weakness for the sake of the world. The path that Herod today mocks as one for losers.

But when we follow such a God with all our hearts, the reign of God actually comes to be in this world. One at a time, as people give their hearts to this upside-down God, this ruler of stables and refugees, the world is changed, and we find hope.

It’s always at Bethlehem, not Jerusalem, where we find Christ, God-with-us. In small, not great. And slowly, surely, God’s healing life spreads from there to all people. From you to all. Because to you, to all, is born this day a Savior who is the Christ, the Lord.

And this will be a sign for you: you will find God as a little baby, lying in a manger.

Go, look for Bethlehem. You’ll see.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

God needs you to incarnate God’s presence in your life, your love, no matter how small or unimportant you might feel you are.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fourth Sunday of Advent, year A
Texts: Matthew 1:18-25; Isaiah 7:10-16

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

This time the angel said “don’t be afraid” to Joseph.

It’s a pretty common Biblical greeting. Mary heard it at the start of all this. The shepherds will, too, outside Bethlehem. Jesus essentially said, “don’t be afraid” to John the Baptist last week.

But Mary and John had huge, frightening jobs they were asked to do for God’s mission. The shepherds were about to see the sky torn apart with the light of an uncountable mass of angels.

Why did the angel need to calm Joseph? “Don’t be afraid to get married,” the angel said. That’s all. Go ahead and take Mary as your wife. Pretty simple calling. Lots of people get married.

That’s why you should pay more attention to Joseph.

It’s not an obvious thought.

Joseph’s barely in the Gospels. Only Matthew tells any significant part of his story, and after the Egypt exile, Joseph disappears. Well, except for that awkward moment in at the Temple when twelve-year-old Jesus reminds him he’s not really his father. And try to find a hymn about Joseph in our worship books sometime.

Last week Jesus called John the Baptist the greatest ever to be born. That’s not Joseph. And Joseph isn’t asked to carry the Savior of the world in his own body. That would be Mary.

Joseph’s job in God’s plan is to be a good husband. Provide for this mother and this child.

So why “don’t be afraid?” for him?

He wasn’t afraid of marriage. He was engaged to Mary, after all.

But in light of her pregnancy, he faced the great pain that he had to either believe or doubt her story. He faced shame and scandal among his neighbors, the loss of his hopes and dreams for a quiet life, a son to carry his family’s bloodline to the next generation. Even though Scripture says they had more children, Joseph would never have a first-born son with Mary.

So with this particular child, he’d always be a supporting role. A side player. There to keep safe, and, we hope, to love. Mary would be called “Mother of God,” Theotokos. “Father of God” was never Joseph’s title.

But Mary needed to give birth safely. This child, God-with-us, would be vulnerable for years and need to be fed and clothed and sheltered and cared for until he could do what he needed to do. Joseph’s job, as simple as it seemed, was absolutely essential for God’s plan.

But the angel thought he might be afraid of doing it. So Joseph gets a “don’t be afraid,” too.

Joseph’s role is more like yours and mine than any others in this story.

This is Joseph: someone who does a critical job for God, but one that’s barely noticed, that to the world seems unimportant, even boring, that might cause embarrassment or sadness, that changes expectations and hopes.

And yet, only Joseph could do this job. Only one person was engaged to Mary. No one in the world was in Joseph’s position to be guardian for her and for this baby. No one else in the world was in a position to provide a loving father figure, a guiding hand, for this divine yet human child.

So Joseph asks you a few questions: what if you’re like me, he says, and there’s something that only you are suited for? Something God needs for only you to do and be as Christ in the world? Something that your life, your relationships, your gifts, only qualify you to do?

And what if it doesn’t seem very important, compared to others’ calls? What if it means adjusting your dreams and expectations? Or means sacrifices that you didn’t anticipate?

Would you be willing to do that? Joseph asks.

God will ask you to do something today, or tomorrow, to bring love, healing, and life to your world.

Something that only you can do that will cost you in some way. Maybe your expectations about your life or what you deserve will have to change. It may be inconvenient, or make you fear embarrassment, or be really challenging.

Maybe it will be protecting others from evil rulers out to destroy, like Joseph. Or maybe just speaking a word of hope to someone who can’t see it anywhere. Or being the only person in position to be God’s love in some place. However God’s call manifests, this is absolutely true: you are the one person in the world who can do what you do.

Now, you might not get an angel visit – or even an angel in a dream – though some certainly have experienced that, even today, and in this community. But God will always get the message through.

And God always starts with, “don’t be afraid to do this. To be this.” God’s message to Joseph, and to you, is “I am with you always.” Emmanuel. My Spirit is in you, giving you courage and hope, to do what only you can do for me.

So all will be well. Don’t be afraid. But you are the one God needs.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

God comes to heal, not to destroy, and following the path of Christ is seeing and hearing that mercy and love, and then living it.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Third Sunday of Advent, year A
Texts: Matthew 11:2-11; Isaiah 35:1-10; Psalm 146:5-10

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Even John saw the problem.

The contrast between John’s rhetoric and Jesus’ peacemaking we saw last week was so stark John started to worry about Jesus. In prison, nearing his death, John sends two of his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?”

John knows Jesus personally. John, led by the Holy Spirit, had no doubts about naming Jesus as God’s Anointed.

But now he isn’t sure? He’s facing death wondering if he failed at the one job he had?

John saw a people and a world woefully unprepared for Messiah.

He saw corruption in the religious leaders, oppression from a crushing overlord. He saw people living apart from God’s way. And he saw in binary, in black and white: you either bear fruit or you don’t. You’re ready or you’re not.

John’s just being a Biblical prophet. He’s calling out bad behavior, sinful action, disregard of God’s law and God’s way, and not putting any nuance on it at all. If he thinks you’re outside, as we heard last week, he’ll say all kinds of terrible things about you and to you. To call you back to God.

But Jesus sees all that John sees. Corruption and oppression, people living apart from God’s way, people not bearing the fruit of faithful lives. He just has a very different strategy for calling people to God’s way, to dealing with evil. He’s different.

That’s why he answers John the way he did.

Jesus says, tell John what you see and hear: blind people have their sight restored, deaf people are given hearing.

People that couldn’t walk now dance. Even dead people are raised. And – and this is no small thing to Jesus – and those who are poor have the Good News brought to them.

Jesus knows his Isaiah. And he knows John knows his Isaiah. So Jesus is saying, John, do you remember Isaiah 35? When God comes to save, blind people will see, deaf people will hear, lame people will jump for joy, and people who can’t speak will sing. Weak hands are strengthened, feeble knees firmed up.

Remember Psalm 146, John? Jesus says. All those things Isaiah promises, but also, justice for those who are oppressed, food to those who are hungry. Strangers are cared for, along with those who lack family support. These are the signs of God’s coming.

So Jesus asks John, “who do you think I am, if I’m doing all these things promised for when God comes to save? How can you be offended by me, and worried that I’m not the one?”

In a world of darkness and fear such as ours, where we see corruption, oppression, violence, evil, just like John did, we sometimes raise John’s question.

We’re now 2,000 years after the coming of this Christ, this Messiah, and it still seems bad. How can you know Jesus’ way is God’s way? Shouldn’t God be doing something stronger? Bring judgment, destroy the wicked, end all that the wicked do? Maybe John has the right idea.

Because if God isn’t taking the world’s evil seriously enough to come and put an end to all of this, what are we missing?

But Jesus asks, “what do you see and hear me do? What does that tell you?”

Here’s what I see and hear.

I see and hear Christ moving in the world for healing and life. Look at all of you, to start with. Dedicated, passionate people who bring light into the shadowy corners of the world every day. I see Christ everywhere I look here, anointed people witnessing to God’s love by bearing the same love in your families, in your daily lives, in this place, this neighborhood, this world. I see people with imagination and courage standing against the powers of evil, making a difference every day. Sharing your wealth for God’s work, sharing your time and sweat to bring God’s healing hope into this world in more ways than I can count. That’s what I see and hear.

And that’s just this community of faith. I see evidence of this in our siblings and neighbors in this city, throughout our nation, throughout the world. God is working against the evil, the corruption, the oppression, the pain, all over this earth.

Maybe these aren’t the specific physical healings Jesus did,. But all the other signs, bringing God’s Good News to those who are poor, those who struggle, bearing God’s justice for those who are oppressed, being God’s love in a world of hate, all things Messiah is supposed to do, all that people are doing. People are being Christ in the world for light and healing and hope.

Can you see and hear that?

Blessed is anyone who isn’t offended by me, Jesus says. He means you and me.

You can look at all the wickedness and evil in the world and despair that God isn’t showing up to get rid of it all. You can spend your Advent waiting and watching for that big, bright, flashy moment when God says, “all right, we’re cleaning this place up, getting rid of the bad guys, cutting down the unfruitful trees.”

Or you can look and listen for where the Triune God has actually said you’ll find God’s healing and mercy and love. You can listen and look for signs of Christ in everyday people, here and throughout the world. You can spend your Advent waiting and watching for where God really is coming and bringing life and hope, and you can join that coming yourself. Because you are baptized, anointed. You are Christ.

Don’t be offended, Jesus says, if my way of healing and hope doesn’t fit your anger, or self-righteousness, or even hate for others. Just look and listen. You’ll be amazed at what you see and hear God doing in you and in this world.

And then ask yourself, do I trust Jesus enough to do this his way?

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

 

“No more of this!” Jesus’ way is love for enemies, healing of relationships, ending of violence and hatred.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Second Sunday of Advent, year A
Texts: Isaiah 11:1-10; Romans 15:4-13; Matthew 3:1-12

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

“No more of this!” Jesus cried out.

The night of Jesus’ arrest and trial, Peter slashed someone’s ear off to defend Jesus. Jesus wanted none of it. “No more of this,” he said, and healed the man’s ear.

I believe Jesus would say the same to John the Baptist after these harsh words. John did good things. He pointed to Jesus as Messiah. He suggested helpful, concrete actions for how to turn toward God in repentance. But this speech? It’s hate-filled, inflammatory, without nuance.

And, with all due respect to John, Jesus’ way has nothing to do with it.

But you tell me: do you really think we need more public leaders defaming whole groups?

Haven’t we already had enough of insults, of assuming evil intent, of calling for destruction? A president who this week called his own citizens “garbage,” “worthless,” “criminals” because they came from Somalia? Who sees one immigrant do a bad thing and screams hateful words seeking to ban all immigrants, including friends dear to this congregation? Aren’t you tired of hate-filled rhetoric that doesn’t see human beings, but publicly insults, offers demeaning stereotypes, invites violence?

But this is John the Baptist, you might say. He’s preparing the way for Messiah. He’s on the right side. And after all, it’s the Pharisees and the Sadducees. They likely deserved it.

Are you sure? Are you certain every single Pharisee and Sadducee of this time deserved to be called snakes and threatened with destruction, with being cut off from Abraham’s family? What about Nicodemus? Joseph of Arimathea?

And Matthew says these Pharisees and Sadducees came for John’s baptism. He doesn’t say they came to judge or critique. They apparently came for the same reason others did – for baptism of repentance. Yet John assumes they’re all wicked, all have ulterior motives? This seems wrong.

Don’t take my word for it. Listen to Jesus, the Messiah John means to prepare us for:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:43-45)

That’s Jesus’ way for you to deal with people you don’t trust, your enemies. Not with hate and violent threats. With love and prayer.

Listen to Isaiah. When Messiah comes, a wolf will share sleeping quarters with a lamb, and so will a leopard with a baby goat. Cows will eat alongside lions, who’ve learned to eat grass instead of meat. Babies will play with vipers, not condemn them in rage. “No one will hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain,” God says.

That’s the way of Christ Jesus calls you to follow.

Until we can say again and again, “no more of this!” to the way of hate, we won’t find Christ’s reign. All our self-righteous posturing that makes John’s speech – or our speech – OK because it’s on the “right” side, is worthless.

Isaiah claims this peaceable reign of God will come with Messiah. And that’s now, not in a distant future, because Messiah is here. Jesus means “no more of this” with as much intensity as he can muster, means that loving enemies and praying for them right now is the only path to God’s reign.

Paul deeply wants his Roman people to live this.

There’s great conflict in these congregations, Jewish Christians against Gentile Christians. They’re calling names, rejecting fellowship. The unity of Christ’s family is falling apart. And Paul wants none of it.

Paul believes Isaiah’s promise is now, that adversaries are meant to live in love with each other in Christ. That the way of Christ embraces all together, including those who know they’re right with God and that’s why they don’t like the others.

Paul astonishingly claims today that Jesus both came as a Jew to confirm the promises to the Jewish ancestors, and also, also, so that Gentiles might “glorify our merciful God.” Gentiles aren’t an add-on after the fact, they’re part of God’s plan from the beginning, which Paul underscores with four Scripture quotes.

So, when Paul says “welcome one another, just as Christ has welcomed you,” he’s talking to two groups who increasingly can’t stand each other but whom Christ has put together, saying, “you were and are welcomed by Christ. Your only path is to welcome each other. Love each other. Take care of each other.”

John thinks preparing the way for Messiah means chopping down all fruitless ones and throwing them in the fire.

Jesus wants nothing to do with Peter’s sword or John’s ax. Jesus says, “I’ll dig around that tree, put some manure on it, care for it a bit. Maybe that will bring fruit.” John prejudges whole groups of people and deems them expendable because he doesn’t see their fruit. Jesus sees individual beloved children of God worthy of all attention and care, and hopes to nurture each one to bear fruit.

The difference is huge for us. The rhetoric of hate and insult, the stereotyping, goes both ways. We’re often as guilty as any. Just because we think we’re on the “right” side doesn’t make it right. Until you and I believe Jesus meant this new, peaceable reign to start here and now, act on that, bear that fruit, and abandon the idea that if we think we’re in the right, whatever anger and hatred we have for others is justified, until we do this, the world will continue in suffering.

Again, don’t take my word for it. Jesus is very clear.

Jesus believes his way will bring healing, hope, and life to the world, that if we trust him enough to follow this path, things will change. Now, there’s no promise this healing, this peaceable reign, will come easily. No promise that the enemy you pray for and learn to love will reciprocate. You might lie down with a wolf and get hurt. Jesus knows exactly how that feels.

But in Christ Jesus is all the love of God you know, all the hope you have for life here and life to come, all the joy of knowing you are in God’s heart forever. Christ has the words of abundant life for you and for all. Where else would you go?

And if this path really leads to the healing of all things, do you really want to miss that?

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen