Jeff Garrison
Bluemont and Mayberry Presbyterian Churches
Luke 3:1-6
December 5, 2021
At the beginning of worship
Christ has come, and Christ will come again. This truth of the Christian faith is why on our Advent journey. As we recall what happened and will happen again, (Christ’s coming), we find we must deal with a crazy man out in the wilderness.
We’re going to spend two weeks with John the Baptist, today and next Sunday. John kind of reminds me John Brown, the fiery abolitionist, for neither of the two minced words. John called it as they saw it, yet people were drawn to him. It’s an interesting phenomenon that we still see—one who makes outrageous demands yet is still able to draw a crowd. What’s that all about?
Perhaps the appeal of John the Baptist has to do with us knowing that, deep down, that is something rotten in us and we need to change. John tells us to be ready, for one is coming who can help us make such changes. Today, our topic is preparation. How are we preparing to meet Jesus?
Before the reading of scripture:
Our reading today begins, not in the land by the Jordan in which John ministered, but in the halls of power as Luke tells us who was in charge in Rome and the various providences around Palestine and at the temple. The halls of power stand in contrast to the voice crying in the wilderness, far from where people live and work.
After the reading of scripture
Las Vegas as a metaphor
Some of you, I’m sure have been to Las Vegas. It’s a city that never sleeps. If you are up at 2 AM, which you might be if you have just arrived due to the 3-hour time change, you find the casinos still bright with the bells of slot machines ringing. Deserts are usually dry, dark, and sparsely populated places. But Las Vegas defies the desert. You’ll find magnificent fountains splashing water.
When I lived in Southern Utah, a mere two-and-a-half-hour drive to Vegas, I often made the drive at night. Or, sometimes, I drove in the predawn early morning hours to catch a flight. I travelled down Interstate 15, through the darkness with bright stars overhead. Then, when I crested a ridge about twenty miles outside of Vegas, the entire valley before me lighted up. It appeared like Christmas, regardless of the season.
And the crowds. Even in the darkness of early in the morning, Interstate 15 would be crowded.
In contrast to Vegas, deserts are quiet places, with the only sound being the wind blowing through a barren canyon or rattling dry yucca pods. In Vegas the sound of a carnival fills the air, especially downtown and along the strip. If you get out of Vegas, just twenty or so miles, you’re in a different world.
The wilderness around Vegas
One of my favorite places to hike, on the times I was there in the winter, were the canyons that dissect the Black Canyon of the Colorado River. This area lies south of Hoover Dam. You never wanted to hike such canyons in the summer as the temperature will rise over 120 degrees.
These dry waterways are dotted with an occasional hot sulfur spring. Because of danger of flash floods, you’d best stay out of the canyon when rain is forecasted. Deep inside one, you’d be more likely to come upon a desert bighorn sheep or a rattlesnake than another person. For those like me, who sometimes need a break for the commotion of a place like Vegas, these canyons provide opportunities for solitude. It’s hard to believe, when you are in such an isolated place that hundreds of thousands of folks are rushing around life just a dozen miles or so away, by the way the crow flies.
From the busy world to the wilderness
Luke, in our reading today, provides us with a similar contrast, as he shifts our focus from the busy places of politics to the wilderness. This gospel writer is a stickler the details. We’re provided a historical setting, a who’s who of both the political and religious world.
If I was to write the history of my ministry, using Luke’s model, I might tell the story of my ordination in Ellicottville New York in this manner: George H. W. Bush was in the White House, Mario Cuomo was the governor of New York, Price H. Gwynn III was the moderator of the Presbyterian General Assembly, and the Reverend Eunice Poethig was executive presbyter of the Presbytery of Western New York.
By beginning with all the bigwigs of Rome and Jerusalem, which Luke inserts here as he also does in chapter two with the birth of Jesus,[1]we’re surprised to learn that God’s word doesn’t come to the city or to those in power. Instead, it comes through a strange fire-breathing prophet living out in the Jordan River wilderness. Those in power have no idea of John, but the changes he forecasts will change the world in which they live.
Ancient ties to John’s message
John’s message is one of expectation, as he draws upon the ancient prophet Isaiah, emphasizing God’s on-going work of salvation.[2] I like how Eugene Peterson translates John’s preaching in The Message:
Thunder in the desert!
Prepare God’s arrival!
Make the road smooth and straight!
Every ditch will be filled in,
every bump smoothed out
the detours straightened out
all the ruts paved over.
Everyone will be there to see
The parade of God’s salvation
There are some that think this passage draws from an ancient practice of clearing a path for a royal procession. If a king traveled through his territories, there would be those who went ahead to smooth out the road so that the king could travel comfortably and speedily.[3]
Admitting our needs
It’s interesting to contemplate this passage considering the never-ending political season in which we now live. A friend, commenting on how Luke throws in the politics of the era into our text, wrote: “In the rarified circles of society where the Caesars dwell, folks don’t like to admit they have problems. Politics is about solving other people’s problems, not about admitting to your own.” To such people, who “live on the mountaintop, such a call to repent is frightening,” for they are to be made low. But to those “living in the low-lying margins of life, this great equalization, the mountains lowered as the valleys rise, is good news.”[4]
In a way, this appears to be just another example of that hard-to-comprehend truth found throughout Jesus’ teachings that the last will be first.[5]
We must always remember that God’s ways are not our ways! God loves the world and is looking out for everyone, especially those often overlooked.
God is coming
John’s message is that God, through Jesus Christ, is coming. People better get ready! To the Jewish listener of John in the first century, the thought of encountering God face-to-face was terrifying. They knew their own sinfulness, and that when compared to God’s holiness, it would lead to their demise. So, it’s imperative that people prepare themselves by confessing their sins, just as we do early in nearly every worship service.
Confession and repentance are necessary if we want to stand before God without fear.
Preparing for the holidays
We all get that Advent is a season of preparation. Many of us have begun decorating our homes with trees and lights. The Garrisons may get around to it this afternoon. The smells of sweets baking, and cider mulling fill our homes. Donna made gingerbread cookies this week. Our homes seem warmer and brighter this season even as the weather can be cooler (although, that hasn’t been the case this year). At least the nights longer.
Getting ready for Christmas, in this way, runs counter to the season. We prepare with optimism, reminding ourselves of a change that’s coming, as the days will be getting longer after Christmas. But our preparations, the ones that are really needed, have nothing to do with us creating a home that could be featured in Southern Living. We need to prepare our souls…
Preparation by self-examination
The preparation for Christ’s coming, whether it was his first coming, his second coming at the end of history, or just preparing to celebrate Christmas, must involve self-examinations. Are our paths straight? Are their bumps on the roads of our lives? Are their mountains that we face or valleys we must cross?
John wants us to do is to examine ourselves so that we might see what keeps us from being in full communion with God. John’s role, by being out in the wilderness, draws our attention away from the busyness of life and refocuses us on what’s important.[6] What crooked ways do we need to straighten, what obstacles do we need to remove?
Now obviously, by ourselves, we can’t move mountains. But God can. If there’s something like a metaphorical mountain blocking us from God, we need to confess and call out for help. We do this trusting God will hear our cries and respond with compassion.
We need to enter the wilderness
This Advent season, take some time to go into the wilderness, at least metaphorically. Explore the rough places in your lives and see what might need to be done to make room for the coming of God, the coming of a Savior. Are there dark places in your heart which needs to be brought to light and confessed to God in repentance? Are their obstacles that keep you from accepting the gentle loving ways of Christ that need to be removed so that you can be filled with joy?
Baptism is the symbol of our sins being washed away in Christ. Do you need to be baptized? Or maybe, we all need to rededicate ourselves to the baptism we experienced years ago.
An evening ritual
You know, before falling asleep at night, I try to think of the things for which I’m thankful and include them in my prayers. But there is another side to prayer. Before falling asleep at night, take time to examine your life using Jesus as an example and confess those sins that you realize you’ve committed. And, in in the spirit of the season, if you find you have wronged someone, make a point the next day to apologize. And finally, repent too of those sins you may not uncover and need God’s help in weeding out from your heart. If we truly open ourselves up to Christ, there will be things we may be surprised of our need for repentance.
Conclusion
Prepare, for not only has Christ come, but he is also coming again. Are we ready to meet him? Amen.
[1] Luke 2:1-2.
[2] Fred B. Craddock, Luke: Interpretation, A Bible-Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (Louisville: JKP, 1990), 47.
[3] “To You Is the Song: The 2015 Advent Devotional” published by The Fellowship Community (Louisville, KY), 12.
[4] Scott Hoezee, “Remembering the Future,” Reformed Worship Vo. 57 (September 2000), 7.
[5] See Matthew 19:30, 20:8, 20:16; Mark 9:35, 10:31; Luke 13:30.
[6] Norval Geldenhuys, The Gospel of Luke: The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1983), 137.
Jeff Garrison
One of the common characteristics of the post-resurrection appearances of Jesus is that no one is looking for him, and no one “finds him.” Instead, Jesus just shows up. The disciples are hearing from the women about Jesus not being in the tomb, reports of him being in Emmaus, and from Simon Peter. But they don’t send out a search party to find Jesus. They’re scared. They lock themselves into a room while discussing what they consider as rumors. And when Jesus mysteriously shows up, they freak out. “It’s a ghost!”
One of the lessons we should learn from the resurrection stories is that Jesus controls both his and our destinies. It’s not about us going out looking for God, it’s about God looking for us. There are no barriers that we can put up to avoid God. The disciples discovered this when Jesus pops in. This is good news for those of us sheltering and avoiding contact with others in order to stay healthy during this pandemic. While we might not be able to go to church on Sunday mornings, God can invade the privacy of our homes. We can’t keep God out. As Jesus shows us, God is in control. That’s good, because we can screw things up, so we’re a lot better off depending upon the God who surprises us, than depending on our own inability to bring us back into a relationship with the Almighty. This is what the Presbyterian doctrine of election or predestination is all about.
But before the disciples can understand this, they must realize who this is that has invaded their meeting. In their mind, Jesus is dead. You don’t come back to this life once grasp the idea that he is risen. First, he asks for a bite to eat. It’s been a while since his last supper. It’s important that they see food going in his mouth (see food, seafood, get it?). Jesus then points to his flesh and bones. Luke wants to assure us that Jesus’ appearance to the disciples after his death isn’t just wishful thinking on their part.
The second thing Jesus does, which is like what he did with those in Emmaus, is to help the disciples understand the scriptures. Jesus wants them to grasp the idea that his suffering, death, and resurrection has been God’s plan.
Of course, because this is God’s doing, not the disciples’, they will need to be given the strength and ability to carry this mission out. Jesus, in his commission to the disciples in Luke’s gospel, is looking forward to the: coming of the Holy Spirit, to Pentecost, after which the disciples will take Jesus’ message to the end of the world.
Jesus shows up and calls us because, sooner or later, we are no longer going to be hiding in our home. Life will open back up and when that happens, we need to be ready (just as the disciples were ready on Pentecost) to go into the world and make a difference. Think of this time we’re in as a Sabbath. Like the disciples, we rest today. In a short while, there will be plenty for us to do. As followers of Jesus, we’re to change the world, to make it a kinder more generous and gracious, home. May we catch that vision and live into it. Amen.
I have a lot of time to think out here, watching the sheep. I see a lot of people coming and going. Jerusalem, the Holy City, is just over the rise, a few miles away. These three were heading away from the city and engaged in a great debate. Even with my back turned, I could hear them a mile away. And as they were talking, the third guy, the one in a white robe, catches up with them. He joins their conversation. They seem rather surprised that he didn’t know what they were talking about. There’s this man, supposedly a king, who’d been crucified. But then he starts asking questions and I can tell they are intrigued. Here, a guy who didn’t seem to know the news, yet knows the scriptures. 
On this occasion, they are walking and discussing the events of the past few days when they are joined by a stranger. This makes sense to me, as I have walked a lot in my life. I recall numerous occasions along the Appalachian Trail where I was talking to someone and a third person comes up behind us and, overhearing what we were talking about, puts his two cents worth.
Something else happens. Jesus, at the table, goes from being the guest to the host.
In some ways, our encounters with Christ are probably more like these two disciples walking to Emmaus. There are very few Damascus Road experiences, like that of Paul. It ranks up there with Moses’ burning unburned bush. Most of us experience Christ, like these two, when we realize something someone said caused our hearts to burn, or when someone opens Scripture and we learned the eternal truths of God’s Word. And when something like that happens, we must tell someone. It’s a Truth we can’t keep to ourselves. This is how our faith spreads. We encounter Christ through his word or through someone who speaks to us about Christ and then Christ becomes real to us.
Earlier in the first chapter of Luke’s gospel, the angel Gabriel met Mary in Nazareth to give her the good news. However, I’m not sure that everyone saw this as good news. I am not even sure Mary saw it that way. After all, she was just a young woman. Tradition has it she was only 14 years old, and here’s this angel is talking about all of what this child she’s to carry will do. Mary wonders how it’s to happen and told that the Holy Spirit will fill her, and she’ll conceive. In addition, she’s told that her relative, the old barren Elizabeth, is also pregnant and will bear a son. God appears to be active with the oldest and the youngest.
“Girl, how’d you get yourself in this mess?” isn’t how Elizabeth greets Mary. Instead, she starts out praising Mary, wondering what she, Elizabeth, has done to deserve such a visit. She proclaims Mary as the most blessed of all women. Mary breaks out in song. She didn’t sing to Gabriel, at the heavenly encounter she had earlier. She sings when another person, one whom must have known as a kind older woman, confirms her status.
Mary is joyous, but not in the manner we think of joy. For us, joy is a child experiencing an ice cream cone for the first time or us witnessing the child’s wonder. Joy is a mother watching her son make a home run as a Little Leaguer. Joy is laugher at a good joke, the awe of a beautiful sunset without sand gnats, sitting around a fire telling stories when it’s not too cold, or the Pirates winning the World Series. All these things are great, but is this what joy really is? Or is it something deeper.
When Jesus was at table with his disciples on the night before his crucifixion, he instructs his disciples and then says he’s telling them all this so that his joy will be in them, and that their joy will be complete.
When Paul writes from prison to the Philippians, he tells them how he’s joyous when he prays for them and asks them to make his joy complete by being of the mind as Christ.
This is unabashed joy; joy regardless of the situation. All is not well in the world, then or now, but we as believers are called to see beyond the present and to have faith in what God’s doing. We are called to be joyous and to have hope and to share our hope with others. In the long arch of history the impeachment of a President, a rogue nation like North Korea having rockets and weapons of mass destruction, and the eruption of a volcano in New Zealand (or heaven help us, if one blew up in Bluffton) isn’t the final word. For we believe God has things under control and even if we screw everything up and blow the planet to smithereens, God will not let that be the final word.
So, we go back to that young woman, pregnant and not yet married, in a world without social safety nets. You can’t be much more vulnerable than Mary, standing before Elizabeth. Yet she breaks out in this beautiful song that focuses on what God is doing. Mary doesn’t speak of what God is doing for her, personally, except for having chosen her. She’s not thankful for a new house, or car, or clothes or a servant. Her lot is not joyful by most definitions. She has this son that runs away at the age of 12.
At the end of the sixth grade at Bradley Creek Elementary School, there was a graduation banquet. It was held in the evening, which made it special, and in the cafeteria, which wasn’t so special. I’m sure we had macaroni and cheese. We always had mac and cheese. There must have been a rule that you couldn’t open the cafeteria without mac and cheese. But this was a special meal, so maybe there was a slice of ham or a piece of chicken and a piece of cake that was larger than the one inch cubes they fed us at lunch.
In the bulletin, I titled this sermon “Humility and Hospitality.” The problem with coming up with a title a few weeks before writing a sermon is that you often have no idea where the sermon is heading. I later decided that a better title might be Banquet Etiquette. But as I continued to study and ponder, I decided to put a question mark at the end. Yes, Jesus expects us to be humble and not pretentious. Such advice will also keep us from being in an embarrassing position. Yes, on the surface, this is about etiquette. But is this what Jesus is driving? Is this Jesus’ attempt to be the Emily Post of the first century? Or is there a deeper message here?
Remember what I said about the Sabbath, before reading this passage? That it was a foretaste of the eternal kingdom. And this section of Luke’s gospel is filled with parables that focus on the kingdom.
The surface meaning may have to do with avoiding embarrassment. A deeper meaning might be that we should humble ourselves. One of the challenges that Jesus had was his disciples wanting to grab key positions in the coming kingdom.
But there is another way to look at this parable, which I had not considered until I read a blog post by a pastor in Iowa earlier this week.
Instead of Jesus wanting us to show humility in the hopes that we might be called up to the head table (as you could read this passage), maybe Jesus is telling us to meet others where we find ourselves. Show hospitality to those less fortunate. If our only goal was to sit at the head table, we could easily display false humility to gain such a blessing. 
But Jesus wants us to long for the kingdom, which isn’t going to be made up of exclusively of those who look, and act like us. Jesus’ vision is for a world where believers cherish their friendship and fellowship with all people. It’s about us showing goodness to those who have no way to repay us for what we can do for them. Ponder what this kind of world might look like.
You know, none of us know what this week will bring as Dorian churns up the waters. When Hurricane Matthew hit in 2016, I spent a few days in Dublin, GA. There’s a great hot dog shop there, not far from the courthouse, where I found myself drawn at lunchtime. There were the regulars, but there was also those of us in exile: from Savannah, from Hilton Head, from Brunswick and Saint Simons. The place was packed. Friendships were made as we were forced to share tables. Stories were told of shared experiences such as being in gridlock on the highway. There was a lot laughter. I image that’s how the kingdom will be. So, if we evacuate this week, and you find yourself in a strange land for a few days, don’t see it as a burden. Instead, take it as an opportunity to sample the kingdom. That’s what Jesus would have you do. Let us pray: