Third Sunday of Advent
December 17, 2017
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Decorah, Iowa
Rev. Amy Zalk Larson

Click here to read scripture passages for the day.

Beloved of God, grace to you and peace in the name of Jesus, the true light.

Three of our scriptures for today focus on joy, on rejoicing. And God knows we need some joy – not holiday cheer, not forced, pretend happiness, but real joy. Rejoicing helps us to defy the power of evil so that it does not define or defeat us. Rejoicing helps us to focus on what we love, rather than on all that is wrong. Rejoicing helps us witness to the light that shines day and night, even when it is hidden.

Someone who seeks to rejoice always and who, by his witness, helps me to rejoice is Fr. Greg Boyle, a Jesuit priest famous for his gang intervention programs in Los Angeles. He’s the founder and executive director of Homeboy Industries which employs former gang members. In a recent interview, Fr. Boyle shared a story about one of these “homies”, as they call themselves, who asked him for a blessing. He recalls, “I have a homie named Louie, who’s just turned 18, and he’s kind of a difficult kid. He’s exasperating, and he’s whiny. And he works for me, although ‘work’ may be too strong a verb.

So, this kid, Louie, I’m talking to him and he’s complaining about something. And finally, at the end of it, he says, “Hey, G, give me a bless, yeah?” (Which apparently is the way all these guys ask Fr. Boyle to bless them.) I said, “Sure.” So, he comes around to my side of the desk, he knows the drill, and he bows his head and I put my hands on his shoulder. Well, his birthday had been two days before, so it gave me an opportunity to say something to him. And I said, “You know, Louie, I’m proud to know you and my life is richer because you came into it. When you were born, the world became a better place. And I’m proud to call you my son, even though — and I don’t know why I decided to add this part — at times, you can really be a huge pain.” And he looks up and he smiles. And he says, “The feeling’s mutual.”

Fr. Boyle reflects on this, “You want people to recognize the truth of who they are: that they’re exactly what God had in mind when God made them … we’re all called to be enlightened witnesses: people who, through kindness and tenderness and focused attention of love, return people to themselves. And in the process, you’re returned to yourself. Maybe I returned Louie to himself,” Fr. Boyle says, “But there is no doubt that he returned me to myself.”

(Transcript from interview with Fr. Greg Boyle on radio program On Being with Krista Tippet).

In our Gospel reading for today, John serves as that kind of enlightened witness – a witness who seeks to return people to themselves and to the light.

John knows the truth of who he is. He knows that he’s not the long-awaited Messiah, not Elijah returned from the dead, not the prophet, not the light. He is a witness, a voice crying out in the wilderness testifying to the true light. John recognizes the truth of who he is because he has been enlightened by the true light. When he was just a baby in his mother’s womb, he leapt for joy when Mary entered the room, pregnant with the baby Jesus. Even then, John knew he was in the presence of the true light. Even then, he bore witness – leaping for joy.

As an enlightened witness, John calls God’s people to repent, to prepare themselves for the coming of their Savior. He tells people the truth about their lives, hoping to return them to themselves and to their God, hoping that they too will become enlightened witnesses. John never forgets who he is. He is not the light. He is a witness to the light. So, it is for us. We are not the light but we are called to be enlightened witnesses. We’re called to witness to the light, even when it is hidden.

Witnesses watch, listen and pay attention so that they can testify to what they’ve seen and heard. We are called to pay attention to the light – to look, expectantly, for places and people where the light is at work, to recognize the light within others and around us. We’re called to notice the light, name the light, and rejoice in that light. The light that is the Word made flesh, the light that is Jesus the Christ is bringing good news to the oppressed, is binding up the brokenhearted, is comforting all who mourn. The light is replacing our faint spirit with a mantle of praise. The light is creating joy.

Theologian Henri Nouwen describes the difference between joy and happiness: “While happiness is dependent on external conditions, joy is the experience of knowing that you are unconditionally loved and that nothing – sickness, failure, emotional distress, oppression, war, or even death—can take that love away.”

So, you enlightened witnesses, receive a blessing on this day of joy, “I’m proud to know you and my life is richer because you came into it. When you were born, the world became a better place.” You may not feel like it most days, but the light of Christ is replacing your faint spirit with a mantle of praise. You’ve sowed with tears, but you will reap with songs of joy. 

Rejoice and bear witness to this light.

Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, December 10, 2017 – “Homecoming”

Second Sunday of Advent
December 10, 2017
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
Decorah, Iowa
Rev. Amy Zalk Larson

Click here to read scripture passages for the day.

Beloved of God, grace to you and peace from the One who is, who was and who is to come. Amen.

This time of year, our hearts often turn toward home – whatever home means for us. We long to be with loved ones. We long to feel at home in the places we live and we want those places to feel cozy and welcoming. As winter presses in, we crave warmth, love and connection. It is a season that calls us home.

This time in the church year also speaks of home. In Advent, we prepare for God to come in the flesh, to make a home among us. We look toward the end of time when we’re promised that God will make a home among mortals and dwell among us. Then all people will be at home in God, all people will know God’s peace and well-being. Advent calls us home.

Yet, this is also a season in which we’re often painfully aware of how we and others are so very far from home in the fullest sense of the word. We are so far from the peace, harmony, well-being we seek. Physical and emotional distances feel magnified this time of year, as does grief and heartache.

As winter sets in, we become more aware of those who have no homes and those whose homes are unsafe for whatever reason. When we see all the injustice and brokenness around us, we see how far we are from God’s dream for our world, from how things will be when God makes a home among us.

As the Advent season calls us home, it also serves to highlight the many ways we are living in exile – cut off from our true home in God, from the well-being God longs for us all to know.

Exile was also the reality for God’s people at the time of the prophet Isaiah, the reality addressed in our first reading today. The people turned away from God so God gave them up to their chosen separation and exile. They were conquered by the Babylonian Empire. The city of Jerusalem and their holy temple were destroyed. The people were taken into exile in Babylon. They were so very far from home and felt cut off from God.

At first, God’s people lamented and cried out to God to bring them home. But after some time in exile, many of them assimilated into life in Babylon. They grew comfortable and prosperous. They let go of longing for something different, of yearning for home. The way home was perilous, risky and uncertain and many of them chose to remain in Babylon even after they were free to leave. Their complacency kept them stuck in exile.

Other exiles resisted assimilation but lived with only anger and despair. They knew they didn’t want to go along with a conquering, oppressive power but they’d lost hope that things could ever change. The temple had been destroyed, God must have failed. Their despair and despondency led them to remain in Babylon rather than set out on a difficult journey home.

In our day, in our own sense of exile, we often respond in similar ways. Yet our complacency and our despondent anger only serve to deepen the exile. We end up even further from God and our true home.

With so many obstacles within and around us, how will we find our way to well-being, peace, harmony? How we will find our way home?

The good news announced by the prophet Isaiah, the good news announced by John the Baptist, the good news for us today is that God finds us. God comes to us.

The prophet Isaiah tells us who live in exile, then and now, “here is your God … See he comes with might, he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.” God comes to lead us home.

We don’t have to get out of our complacency or despair on our own, we don’t have to find our way home through the wilderness. God overcomes all obstacles, within and without – every valley shall be lifted up, every mountain and hill be made low, the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.

Isaiah tells us that God comes through the desert on a highway. In Babylon, highways were used by the people to carry their gods to the temples, to try to assert their superiority. Throughout the ancient world, highways were also used by kings and armies to conquer, display their might and acquire goods, people and power. God’s promises in Isaiah draw on that imagery – God will make a way through the desert, God will display glory and power. Yet God will do this not to conquer but to bring us home. God uses the image of the dominant culture of the time and reframes it to speak hope.

In Isaiah’s day, God led the people home and their exile ended. Yet, eventually the oppressive Roman Empire claimed power over them and the people knew exile again. It was into that exile that John the Baptist spoke announcing the good news of Jesus.

Ultimately, until the day when God makes a home among mortals, we will always have some sense of being exiles. Until that day we will not fully know the peace and well-being God longs for us to know.

Yet it is not up to us to find our way home; we are not alone on this journey. God has come to us in Jesus, in Jesus who comes to us again today in his body and blood. We can live as people of hope in the midst of exile, following God’s ways of justice and mercy, resisting complacency and despair. We can live in trust that God has come among us; we are not alone. We can live in joyful expectation that God is leading us to our full and ultimate home.

Let’s take a moment for silent prayer.