Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

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The Baptist was an odd duck. He caused a stir in Israel. He was a wild man, this last of the great prophets -- lived in the wild, was absolutely bizarre in his eating habits and dress code (to say the least). He raged on, whenever anyone would listen, about repentance and the kingdom of God. Of course, we know that John was the opening act. He was on stage to warm up the audience. And "warm them up" he did.  ("Got them heated up" might be more accurate -- especially the movers and shakers, those Pharisees and Sadducees, whom John called a "brood of vipers.")  John wondered out loud who clued them to come hear him preach, so that they might even repent, and thus escape "the wrath to come." (He knew they just didn't have it in them on their own.) Don't count on your pedigree, he tells them. Don't think that because you are Jewish, "the children of Abraham," you will escape. God can make others his chosen people -- even Gentiles -- he can raise up children from stones along the road! It was a hard-edged, nasty message. But sometimes we need to hear the truth about ourselves, and face it honestly, before we can start over. Before we are ready for Jesus.

Jesus is the Doctor

Harry Emerson Fosdick, serving communion one Sunday morning at Riverside Church in New York City, saw a woman coming down the aisle, obviously distraught, and when she knelt at the altar rail tears poured down her face. He passed her the bread, and she waved him off. He pushed it toward her again and said, "Take it, woman, it's for sinners." We don't know what was troubling that woman (maybe Fosdick never knew), but we know that his words to her were gospel heart and soul. "It's for sinners." "If you're well," Jesus said, "you don't need a doctor." Only if you're ill, and know you're ill, does the doctor come. Jesus is the doctor, and we are his patients. He comes when we acknowledge our sickness, repent of our sins and desire to escape "the wrath to come."

Enter Our Church by Forgiveness and Repentence

So John the Baptist was right on-the-money when he called for repentance at the beginning of Jesus' ministry -- repentance so that the people might make themselves ready. (Remember, Advent is a season for readiness. That's why John's story comes up today.)  Repentence is the front porch of our faith, and forgiveness is the front door -- and that's the only way into the house. I am always surprised how many people refuse to come in at all, because they have to come by that route. They look for a back door, an open window, any other entrance. They hang around the house, peek in the windows, see the joy inside. They want to go in. But not if it means examining themselves, repenting, turning around. It's just too painful, or we think it will be too painful, to look at ourselves honestly. What utter foolishness! Quite the contrary, once we have repented and purged ourselves of the anger, the bitterness, the mistakes of the past, then (and only then) is there hope.

John's Teaching of Repentence and Forgiveness Prepare Us for Jesus

Our scripture lesson opens with a look back, to the prophet Isaiah, and to his eerie foreshadowing of John the Baptist: "The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness." Isaiah said, "'Prepare ye the way of the Lord. Make his paths straight.'" (That's John the Baptist, isn't it? The early Christians thought so.) But the scripture closes with John looking ahead, proclaiming hope: "one who is more powerful than I is coming," says John. "I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire." God, the same God who called Abraham in the desert, who set Moses before Pharaoh, who inspired the prophets of old, God is at work right now in his creation. Hope comes when we rightly understand the past, have "truly and earnestly" repented of our sins, and can thus look forward in faith. There is no other way to hope. For if the yoke of past mistakes, and disappointments, and sins, and guilt, and resentments hangs heavily about our necks, we will not be able to lift our heads and look forward.

Our Strength is in God

Philip Amerson, a pastor in Bloomington, Indiana, tells about a widow in his congregation who suffered terrible depression after her husband's death. "She was attending a healing group in our church," Dr. Amerson says, "a group that met every Wednesday morning. At the close of each meeting, we would anoint each other and ask the person being anointed what he or she would like us to pray for in the week ahead. One day this woman, who was nervous, got her words mixed up, and she said something just right. She said, 'Pray for my strength to be faithened." How perfect! We can go a long way in our own strength, accomplish remarkable things. But if we trust in our strength alone, it will not be enough to carry the load. It needs to be "faithened," as steel needs to be hardened, if it is to do the job. We have to add God to our own disciplines of hard work and will power. Then we can do amazing things.

John Wesley was a rather unremarkable man in every way, except in his faith. He stood about five-foot-two, was frail in appearance (but not in fact), a bookish sort of fellow. Yet he drew a tremendous following, and wherever he went enormous crowds gathered to hear him preach. Someone asked him why he thought so many people came out to listen to him. "I really don't know," he said. "All I can figure out is that the Holy Spirit sets me on fire and people come to watch me burn." Wesley was a man who failed in several respects in his life, before the Holy Spirit started firing him up. How did he get from disillusioned priest, and rejected missionary, and one who's heart was never satisfied, to this man of fire. Through repentance, and the assurance of God's forgiveness, He came in across the porch and through the front door. Out of that repentance came the courage to live, and eat, and breathe Jesus. Out of that came Wesley's great hope. His last words were, "The best of all -- God is with us." Even death could not break his mighty heart.

We Dwell Forever in the House of Hope

Hope is difficult today. It is the opposite of depression. It does not take the cynical view, even when cynicism, the easiest way to live and think, is considered the height of sophistication and learning. Hope does not hide behind alcohol or drugs. These pain medicines are no longer necessary when there is hope, because our repentance has been taken care of, and the aching pain in our hearts has gone away. We have faced who we are, with honesty, maybe we are even "a brood of vipers," but we've gotten over it. We've understood that God only has sinners to call and to work with. We've walked across the porch of repentance and through the door of forgiveness. And moved on toward a future, with our Christian brothers and sisters, in the house of hope. Thank you, John the Baptist, for making us ready. As we receive this bread and wine, we prepare ourselves for Christ's coming.