Second Sunday in Advent: Holy Communion

Service Date: 
6 December, 2009
Hebrew Bible reading: Malachi 3:1-4

Sarah: Our Hebrew Bible reading this morning is taken from the prophet Malachi, chapter 3, verses 1-4. [pause, no one moves]
Oops, I wonder if my answerphone message about who was going to do this reading got through all right? Let's see: I can check in the Messenger - no, that's no use, it came out a few weeks ago when I didn't know who I was going to ask yet. I can give it out in notices - no, too late, we've already had them for this service. Ah, I know - I can text! Excuse me just a moment... [texts]
Miriam [looks at her phone, starts moving] Excuse me... can I get through, please... [rushes up to lecturn]
Sarah: There you are! Thank goodness for that. I thought my email reminder might not have got through to you, and we might have had to miss out on God's message from Malachi this morning.
Miriam: Sarah, I've looked at this reading. Are you sure you want me to read it?
Sarah: Well, it's from the Bible, so it's bound to cheer us up. Go ahead, we're behind time already.
Miriam [reads]:
See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. The messenger of the covenant in whom you delight--indeed, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts.
Sarah: You see? It's inspirational!
Miriam [continues]
But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner's fire and like fullers' soap; he will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, until they present offerings to the LORD in righteousness. Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD as in the days of old and as in former years. [pause]
Sarah: Ah. [pause] Miriam, you've done a geology unit this term, haven't you? I don't know if that includes metallurgy, but how hot, just in round terms, would you say a refiner's fire was?
Miriam: At a guess, pretty hot.
Sarah: As I thought. And, um, what's fullers' soap when it's at home,
I wonder?
Miriam: Some chemical compound or other - you're the chemist, you should know! But aren't you rather missing the point here, Sarah?
Sarah: What do you mean, am I missing the point? Who's the minister here, and who's the student?
Miriam: Well, I'm just thinking, whatever the details, all these people need sorting out. Like heating steel to get rid of impurities and make it strong, or like washing dirty clothes to make them clean. They just won't do the way they are; God's going to have to change them. And if I'm right in assuming the sons of Levi aren't just the fans of one brand of jeans, these are God's people we're talking about, not any random group Malachi's dragged in off the street!
Sarah: Hm. OK, I do see what you mean. The people who were listening to Malachi must have been rather upset when they heard him say that. It is a bit of a vote of no confidence, isn't it? Almost like someone standing up in church and saying, We should be doing more praying together - or, come to think of it, someone daring to remind me that I, the ordained minister, may need to look twice at a Bible passage to get the point of it. You may have noticed, I don't much enjoy being challenged.
Miriam: Who does? But there is some hope in this reading too, isn't there? God is going to clean the people up, so they'll live the way God wants, and then their lives will be better. So maybe it's not as bad a message as I thought to start with. [Miriam sits down]
Sarah: We get a lot of messages thrown at us all the time, from the radio, from books and talks and the papers, from our friends. But they can't all be right! Buy more! No, save more! The world's in great danger from global warming! No it's not! We need to cut taxes! No, we need more public spending! Get our troops out! No, send more soldiers! It's not always easy to tell what messages are from God, or every Christian would vote for the same party. And sometimes it's easier to listen to the messages telling us what we already think than those which seem to criticise us or the way we do things.
It's said that a prophet's job is to disturb the comfortable, as well as to comfort the disturbed. If we think we are doing well in our church life, maybe we need to hear Malachi's warning that God's messenger doesn't always bring the news God's people expect or want to hear. But if we can admit it when others point out to us that we're not getting everything right, like Malachi's hearers we can rely on God's promise to clean us up. Soon we'll be hearing of John the Baptist and his message from God that made people want to wash away their mistakes in the River Jordan and start over with God. So this week's stained glass window pane will show that river, to remind us that when we realise we've got grubby, God can help us start again.
But first we'll light two candles on our Advent wreath: the first for God's promise, the second for God's prophets.

Hymns: 
R&S 134 began life in the 17th century in Latin as ‘Jordanis oras praevia' by Charles Coffin, but was translated in the 18th century by John Chandler. The tune Winchester New is also from the 17th century, popularised in England by John Wesley.
R&S 439 is by the recently deceased URC minister and hymnodist Fred Kaan, written for his congregation in Pilgrim Church, Plymouth in 1968. The tune Sommerlied means Summer Song.
R&S 131 was written in 1970 by the Roman Catholic Luke Connaughton under the pen name of Peter Icarus. The tune Farley Castle was originally written for Psalm 72.
Sermon: 
Sermon: Malachi 3:1-4; Luke 3:1-6
Messages come at us through all sorts of media these days, if we choose to use them: landline, mobile phone, email, Facebook, text, Twitter, even good old-fashioned pen or pencil to paper. But poor old John the Baptist had the advantage of none of these - though some of us may be tempted to envy him his lack of electronic media. He had to rely on a much older method of communication: listening and speaking.
When John wanted to hear what God was saying to him, he went into the desert to listen. And doing that, he was following a distinguished tradition. Moses heard God in the desert when he was leading his flock and turned aside to look at a bush that wouldn't stop burning. Elijah heard God in the desert when he was running away from King Ahab and his own depression: the still small voice in the middle of wind and earthquake, fire and storm. It makes sense that when we want to hear something very faint, we go where there is the least interference from competing messages. And in the desert, John found a place where he could listen hard enough to hear the difference between God's voice and his own, which isn't always easy.
When John was sure it was God's message he was hearing, he knew it was not for his own benefit alone. So he started to travel in the area around the Jordan River, not going into villages or cities but letting word of mouth inform others to join him in the countryside, hearing what he had to say.
And what was John's message from God, spoken from his desert soapbox? Turn around, change your mind, come back to God, and show you're serious about it by washing away your old life in the Jordan. We know from the verses following our reading from Luke that he didn't soften his words to make people like him. Who told you, you could escape God's anger? he demanded of the Jewish crowds. Don't rely on all your years of synagogue-going; God can make new and better followers out of the desert rocks if your lives don't match up to the challenge of your faith. When they asked him, What should we do, then? his answers were simple.
Share what you have with those in need. Don't cheat others, even if custom lets you get away with it. Don't make your wealth out of other people's work. And don't look for more than you need to live. Advice that's still good, not just for bankers and MPs but for us too.
People were so impressed by John telling it like it was that he was in danger of being mistaken for God's leader, the Messiah. It would have been easy for him to foster that mistake, just to make sure they were listening to him. After all, his message was from God, wasn't it?
But John refused to let who he was get tangled up with what God wanted of him. His flesh and blood, his evident passionate face-to-face sincerity was the medium of God's message; but John was not the message. Yet Jesus, both God's medium and God's message, was on his way.
We tend to think of Jesus differently from his cousin John. If John as a prophet specialised in disturbing the comfortable, pointing out to good religious people how God wanted them to live differently, as if their religion had an effect on their everyday lives, we often see Jesus as humble, gentle, meek and mild: healing the sick, loving the outcast and forgiving the enemy, not opening his mouth under false accusation, dying to cleanse us from the grubbiness of our lives.
That's all true. But Jesus is God's medium as well as God's message. So in him there can be no discontinuity between God's mercy and God's justice. God through Isaiah's prophecy John quotes in our reading today promises salvation - wholeness and healing - for God's people. Yet God in Malachi's prophecy promises a hard time for those who think they have achieved perfection. And for us Jesus is both God's disturbance and God's comfort. Take for example the bread and wine which we shall shortly be sharing. When God's people first shared this meal, it meant liberation from slavery in Egypt. But for the Egyptians, it also meant wholesale bereavement, as in every household the firstborn died; except in the households of Israel where lamb's blood smeared over the door gave them exemption from mourning.
When Jesus and his friends first shared this meal, it meant inclusion in God's company for those who had long been shut out of religious life. But it also meant scandal for the faithful, as tax-collectors and prostitutes flocked to eat and drink with Jesus - and even his own followers didn't wash their hands properly before they ate!
When Jesus and his closest friends shared bread and wine just before Passover, liberation and welcome, scandal and death were at the table together. He took the old story of God's rescue and gave it new meaning, sharing his very life with his friends, a life soon to be laid down for them and for all when the world's unjust values would collide with the justice of God's kingdom. Now when we eat bread and drink wine together, we can gain great comfort from God's promise of liberation and welcome. Yet unless we can tie in this meal we are about to share with the life of the world and our own lives, we are blocking God's message, worshipping Jesus lite, who offers only comfort, not challenge.
This danger may be particularly real as we approach December 25th and the coming of the Christmas child. Yes, babies are sweet - except when they cry, which Jesus undoubtedly did. But little children across the world are dying for lack of clean water and basic medical care, and little children coming into our church need our welcome and our interest in their families. How does our love of baby Jesus extend to children in urgent need of food in Ethiopia, or of love in Broomhall? Again, when we share bread and wine, how can we forget people dying of hunger because our trade system is unfair, or those in our midst whose problem may be isolation or loneliness, whose hunger is for a friendly word from us?
So as we prepare ourselves for Jesus' coming to us, in bread and wine, in the manger and in all our neighbours, we still need to heed John's message: Share what you have with those in need. Don't cheat others, even if custom lets you get away with it. Don't make your wealth out of other people's work. And don't look for more than you need to live.

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