[Propertalk] 3 Advent b

[robertpmorrison at charter.net]

Here's what Ill be checking tomorrow and Saturday, between appointments, 
etc.

Bob

THE EPISCOPAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN, ALBANY				                		  3rd 
ADVENT B
ISAIAH 61:1-4, 8-11 						                       			 14th DECEMBER, 2014
1 THESSALONIANS 5:16-24					  	                    			      PSALM 126
JOHN 1:6-8, 19-28

	“Who are you?” THIS is what Advent is about.  Learning about you; 
learning about me; learning about people I’ve never seen or met, and 
trying to imagine what they look like, and how they talk, and what makes 
them happy, and excited, and fulfilled. Learning about all the 
characters who’ve traversed afar across the pages of the Bible. Learning 
about God, and stopping this week again to look at the son of Elizabeth.

	Who are you? In one way or another that’s what people all across the 
world are asking Can we tell anything by the way one talks? Do you live 
up to what you say? Can you be trusted? Will you hurt me? Will you 
respect me? Do you really pay any attention to me?

	Who ARE you?

	Maybe people have seen us come in this building before. Maybe people 
have seen us shopping at this store, but not that one. Possibly people 
have seen us at concerts, or movies, or plays; maybe it was stopping to 
let someone across the street in Wednesday and Thursday’s wind and 
pouring rain. Perhaps, if people really paid attention, they might be 
able to compile a little story about us and, if they did, what would 
that story be like?

	I’m not talking “naughty and nice” here – well, maybe I am, a little, 
but put the thought of rewards and punishments aside. That’s not what 
Advent is about. That’s not what was gripping the mind of Isaiah. He 
brought God’s word to the people of Israel in such a way that he invited 
everyone to think about who they were, about what they were doing, about 
what they hoped to be able to accomplish and to experience. His were 
exciting words. And, contrary to what some may think, he wasn’t writing 
off the wealthy, the healthy and the powerful. They HAD the goods. They 
knew what they could do and, yes, for some, this meant corruption of 
spirit and tarnishing of soul.

What Isaiah was saying was that those who’d given up hope of finding 
happiness, of being treated with a kind word and deed, of being able to 
go to bed at night without any sort of worry – would there be food the 
next day, would they have work, would they be able to do something to 
make their children full of inquisitiveness and joy in discovering God 
leading them to explore their universe? What Isaiah was saying that 
those from whose eyes the light had disappeared would find something on 
which they could place their hope.

Have you ever looked into someone’s eyes, and found them dulled by long 
stressful hours at work or by unending demands on their time, and energy 
and spirit? Have you ever seen that flatness and quickly looked away, 
not sure whether or not you were willing to engage that person at the 
precise point where they were feeling pain, or misunderstanding, or 
anxiety? Have you looked that closely at someone for whom every new day 
is a potential disaster waiting to crash around her or him, because that 
person doesn’t know what to do? And if, God forbid, the eyes have been 
your own, reflected back from the mirror and caught in an unguarded 
moment in the morning, do you remember even a little of what that 
feeling is?

It’s to you, it’s to every single person and family in the world, that 
Isaiah says, “God is listening. God cares. God wants to reach out – and 
God WILL.” 	The promise of God’s compassion, even in the face enormous 
difficulties, even stupidity and intransigence, the fulfilment of the 
promise of God’s compassion stretches from the first custom-made clothes 
at the Garden of Eden Tailor and Boutique to the broken-down society 
following the return from Babylon. Isaiah took a leaf out of Captain 
Jean Luc Piccard’s book when he reported that God will “Make it so”.

The good news to the Hebrew nation; the good news to the people of 
Jerusalem and the Jordan Valley; the good news to us is that God is 
becoming more and more present to all the people. And all that God asked 
and continues to ask is that we discover who we are.

Of course, it’s not always easy to discover this. Oh, yes, we ask 
ourselves and those closest to us, whom we trust, who we are. But God 
hopes that we’ll continue to grow. There’s no way that we can discover 
everything there is to ourselves. After all, we’re all God’s image, and 
the possibilities within us are endless. So this is an incredibly 
exciting exploratory journey we’re asked to make. It’s not one we make 
alone, however. God gives us companion to encourage us, to prod us, to 
help us sort through all the questions we have about our identity and 
who we feel drawn to be.

	The interesting thing is that even heroes like Isaiah and John the 
Baptist had their questions. They had journeys to make also. They didn’t 
arrive on earth with clear understandings of who they were and what God 
wanted them to do. Just like us, just like the folk to whom they talked, 
they had to work out as much as they could, based on their interaction 
with others, with how they felt when they were asked to behave in 
certain ways, or espouse particular values. They had to choose whether 
it felt right. Then they had to decide what to do about the risks and 
dangers. They had to work with their own consciences, and accept 
whatever responsibility came with making these decisions – just as we 
do. Nothing came easy to Isaiah or John. Yet they kept talking to God; 
they kept their eyes, and their ears, and their hearts open. And just as 
Jesus did when He came and began His ministry, they discovered that the 
key to the mystery of God’s love lay in how inclusive they were. If they 
saw anyone on the outside – of a club, o a congregation, of the village 
community, of access to full participation in the religious and secular 
life of the nation – if they saw anyone on the outside, then they 
invited them in. THESE were the ones to whom most of the addresses were 
made – the ones who had such difficulty making and keeping eye contact; 
the ones whose hands no one would hold.

	THAT much was clear to the prophets. So was their understanding that 
they were messengers. Neither you nor I can say that they were “just” 
messengers. No one is “just” anything. We ALL have a mission. We ALL 
have a ministry. And we’re ALL called to do whatever it takes to help 
those who’re having the greatest difficulty identifying who they are.

	There’s no record of Isaiah being misidentified as other than a 
prophet, although there were many among those whose lives were 
comfortable and secure, there were many who’d try to take that ministry 
away from him, labelling him a trouble maker; someone who asked too many 
awkward questions; who called for too many reports and accountability. I 
guess he supposed that those who didn’t have to worry about their next 
meal, or job, or schooling and health care for their children; I guess 
Isaiah supposed that these people would have at least some free time in 
which to reflect on God and the ways of the world, and to decide how 
they related to each.

	But the rest of society – whom did he address? Oh yes, the oppressed, 
the brokenhearted, the captives, those who mourned separation from their 
loved ones and from their own sense of dignity – the rest of society, 
with them he spent his time. On then he focused his ministry of telling 
them of the renewed and fulfilled lives God wished them to have
.
	And John the Baptist – HE could have played on the longing of the 
lawyers and temple authorities and made much more of himself. But he 
knew at least as much about who he was to know that it was his calling 
to point away from himself, to bring the people to the place where they 
could hear and see God’s Word walking in their midst so that they could 
make a decision for themselves. And who was it who came to listen to 
him? Ah – the oppressed, the brokenhearted, the captives, those who were 
unable to engage anyone to help them. He was there to tell everyone that 
no one would be excluded from participating in the Lord’s reign, that 
all were welcome to discover that there is a place at God’s table for 
everyone.

	But what of us? We wrestle with identity too. Who are we in 
relationship to the other folk across the street here; and those who 
live on the same street as ourselves; and the folk across the country 
and around the world?  It can be so confusing. Some days we think we 
have it all figured out. Until someone comes into our lives 
unexpectedly; or a crisis develops; or questions come up with which we 
don’t want or are unable to deal. Then things become unclear and we find 
ourselves living in Advent – hanging on to the slender hope that God 
loves us and that everything will work out, but never being fully sure 
how we’re going to get there and how we have to behave on the way.

In one of his books, the late Trappist monk, Thomas Merton wrote a 
prayer for himself and for his brothers at Gethsemani Abbey. It’s one he 
made often, as did many of the monks.

“My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road 
ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I 
really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your 
will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the 
desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that 
desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything 
apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by 
the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I 
trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of 
death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never 
leave me to face my perils alone.” 1

The good news is that Merton, the monks of Gethsamani Abbey, and all who 
have prayed this or other similar prayers, just like Isaiah, just like 
John the Baptist,  each and every one has held on to that glimmer of 
hope that God not only created each, but gave to each of us an identity 
and a call. As some unidentified writer out it last week, “We can’t 
predict the future, but we can choose to be hopeful.”

I was bothered by how that writer went on, however. He or she said, “We 
can’t control those around us, but we can choose to lovingly disengage 
from their dramas.” I catch the sense of what the person was trying to 
say. Advent isn’t about behaving as if our calling is to try to spend 
down the Department of the Treasury. Advent is about listening, about 
meditating, above all about hoping. But the only things from which we’ve 
to disengage are those why draw us from living and demonstrating God’s 
love in the world.

We make a deliberate attempt, as hopeful Christians, to be more subdued 
as we reflect on our nature and the grace of God about to burst over us. 
Then on this, the third Sunday of Advent, we light a pink candle to mark 
a time of refreshment, of feasting, and of joy amid the penitential 
season.

We can’t prevent the busy, hectic misunderstood seasonal pace, but we 
CAN choose calm. And we, like Isaiah, like all the other prophets and 
witnesses, like John, we can be ministers of hope to one another and to 
a world that is in a huge amount of hurt right now.

One example, which stopped my heart on several levels, showed up in a 
headline four days ago. “I tortured at Abu Ghraib, and I can’t be 
forgiven”. 2

There are responsibilities we all need to face, but, no matter what we 
have done, Isaiah, John, Jesus ALL remind us that these are precisely 
the people and precisely the situations which God’s loving grace 
addresses. Forgiveness is ALWAYS available.

Who are you? Who am I?

Theologian Jean Vanier wrote:
“Where are these signs of hope today?
More than ever (we need to raise the) consciousness
of the importance of each and every human being.
whatever their race, culture or religion.

	“Witnesses tell how Jesus is transforming their lives
	and bringing them a new inner freedom, peace and joy.
	People in our world find hope when they find credible witnesses,
	men and women with a living faith,
	bearing witness to the presence of God –
	more by their lives, their growing compassion
	and their dynamic love
	than by their ideas or their words.
	Jesus said that people will know his disciples
	by the love they have for one another.” 3
	Who ARE we?

NOTES:

1 	“Thoughts in Solitude “ by Thomas Merton © 1956, 1968 The Abbey of 
Our Lady of Gethsami. Farrar, Strauss, Giroux, New York. 1958

2	“Eric Fair: I tortured at Abu Ghraib, and I can’t be forgiven”  by 
ERIC FAIR  Published: 10 December 2014 12:16 PM Updated: 10 December 
2014 08:21 PM 
http://www.dallasnews.com/opinion/latest-columns/20141210-eric-fair-i-tortured-at-abu-ghraib-and-i-cant-be-forgiven..ece?hootPostID=add40fef9be0b9152209293901e62fd6

3	“Drawn into the Mystery of Jesus through the Gospel of John” by Jean 
Vanier. Paulist Press, Mahwah. M.J. © 2004 Pages 9 and 31.

Robert P Morrison
Interim Vicar
The Episcopal Church of St Alban
PO Box 1556
Albany OR  97321   541-921-1076 (cell)
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