Prepare

sermon by Torin Eikler
Second Sunday in Advent
Malachi 3:1-4 Luke 1:68-79

It’s the dark of night, and a brilliant terrorist of sorts exults as the moment he has been planning for draws near. He has maneuvered all the right people into place, and the items he has been searching for are almost in his grasp. Years of work and preparation are coming to a head, promising to bring him the power to plunge the United States and, indeed, the whole world into chaos. Soon … very soon, his masterpiece will be complete, and he will become the greatest warrior in the battle between light and dark. An apocalypse is coming, and he will be the one to tip the balance toward evil and destruction.


I suppose that summary could depict any number of recent movies or books – and, sadly, even some events in real life today. But, what I am actually describing is the overall setting of the newest thriller to come from the pen of Dan Brown, the author of The Da Vinci Code. I’m not talking, here, about Angels and Demons – the movie that recently came out on DVD (though I am excited to see that). I am referring to The Lost Symbol. It is the eagerly awaited third installment of the adventures of symbologist Robert Langdon which came out in book stores about a month and a half ago. It is, as you might expect if you’re familiar with Brown’s writing, a bit of a cliff-hanger filled with mysterious writings, clever plot twists based on misinterpretation, and good deal of mystical symbolism.

But, while all those little details are what makes the story engaging and fun to read, the truth is that the deeper theme of the book is one of preparation … preparation for an apocalypse, or if you prefer, a revelation. There is, as seems to be a running theme in our world, a sea change coming – a time when a profound truth will be revealed and humanity will be transformed. In what amounts to a moment on the timeline of history, we will come to understand ourselves and our world in a new light, and a new age of light – a golden age – will come on earth.

Does that sound at all familiar? It should. Not only is that the theme of the book of Revelation, it is also embedded, as Dan Brown points out (can you feel the irony here), in the teachings of Jesus as recorded in all four of the gospels. But even more to the point, the words of both prophets this morning envision just such a time coming – Malachi at some unspecified time in the future and Zechariah at the very specific moment of Christ’s birth. And the implication is, in the words of Isaiah and John the Baptist, that we need to “prepare the way of the Lord.” We need to make straight the crooked paths of the wilderness, fill in the valleys, clear away the hills and mountains, and smooth the rough patches so that the way is clear for the Word – the truth and power of God – to burst into our world.

It has always seemed strange to me – that prophetic call to prepare. There’s really no way that we can do what’s asked of us. We can’t really knock down the all mountains or fill in the valleys, though humanity has done a lot of that over the years. And even if we could smooth out the rough patches and prepare a nice straight path in the wilderness, there is very little chance that we could find the right wilderness. And besides all that, the power of God is more than enough to change the face of reality on its own. Clearly, all the imagery is a metaphor for something else – something we can prepare.


As it is advent, this seems like an appropriate time to share one particular story of preparation. Less than a year ago now, Carrie and I were anxiously awaiting the arrival of our second son. We had been through nine months – well really eight months, I suppose – of waiting with all the excitement of pre-natal visits that slowly reveal the wonder of a new life through the sound of a heart beat and, eventually, the vision of a small person moving around on a green and black screen. We knew that the tell-tale signs of Alistair’s arrival would be coming any day, and though we knew that some pretty important things needed to be done before we left for the hospital, we resisted the urge to pack things up in readiness.

With Sebastian it had been very different. After months of readiness classes, we arrived at the time we had been told to get everything packed up in preparation. So, we packed up two bags: one filled with clothes, tooth brushes and other necessities and one with all sorts of balls, candles, and other things to help with focus and comfort during labor. We got the baby seat properly installed in the car. We spent hours preparing a play list on our laptop so that Carrie would have just the right mix of energetic and relaxing music in the background. We even packed a couple of our favorite DVDs just in case there was a bit of down time in the progression of labor.

Then, we waited… and waited… and waited. (pause) Five weeks later, we called the doctor to report fairly regular contractions (this was the second time we called), and he told us to go on in to the hospital. We stayed there even though things were not all that far along because we were only a couple of days from the point where we’d have to have labor induced anyway, and about 23 hours later, Sebastian was born. In all that time, we had only used one of the things we packed – the music.

So, as the time of Alistair’s birth drew closer, we both kind of felt like with one son already demanding our attention, we didn’t really want to have a whole lot of energy tied up in anxious waiting. We knew what to expect, after all, and there was still lots of time to pack up and get ready.

Oh yes, we knew what to expect, and we were completely caught off guard when Alistair decided to come nearly a week early! Over-confidence and the distractions of life left us with nothing packed. No labor helps ready. No music cued up. And, the car seat was still in the attic. But there are times when we are in control and times when events control us. So, while I threw a few things in a bag for Carrie, my mother helped get her into the car. Just two hours later it was all over … it had just begun.

In hind sight, I suppose we had everything we needed. We had pre-registered at the hospital. Our parents were coming turns to help with the time of adjustment and recovery. In any case, there wouldn’t have been time to use any of the things we might have brought anyway. And, we had the most important thing ready at the drop of a hat – a space in our hearts and minds for the new baby that was about to burst into our lives.


And, of course, that’s the key to the prophesies as well. There is no need for us to pour over books trying to figure out where to lay a highway. There is no need for us to change anything around us. What is asked of us is that we look inside ourselves and prepare the way for God to burst into our hearts and our souls – to lay wipe away the things that stand in the way and bridge the chasms that divide us from the One who brings the light of salvation to “those who sit in darkness” and new life to those who dwell “in the shadow of death.”

But all this is nothing new. We already know the true meaning of the Baptist’s call. If we’ve been paying attention, we’ve heard about it every Advent since we can remember, and even if we haven’t, it’s not all that hard to figure out with just a bit of curiosity and thought. And, my guess is that our familiarity with these words is one of the biggest mountains standing in our way.


Yes, we all know that we are meant to prepare ourselves for the coming of Christ into our lives. And, I’d venture to say that we even know what that means. If not, we were reminded by Zechariah this morning that we need to remember the promise of salvation, repent, and be forgiven of our sins. What that means for each of us is different, and we each have our own ways of getting our souls ready. But, every year as we prepare for the coming of the baby in the manger, we hear this reminder and it rolls right past us. We know what to expect and there isn’t any urgency. There will be four Sundays of Advent with the appropriate candles and our favorite Christmas hymns. There will be a Christmas dinner with a play staged by the children – with some help. The longest night will come and go, and we’ll gather for Christmas Eve to honor the coming of Christ. Then, Christmas will come and go, and it will all happen again next year. It’s important to us, but so are other things.

So, we let ourselves be distracted by all the other parts of life. We get our Christmas tree ready. We get ready to bake all the special things that are traditional for us. We make our plans for the time we will spend with family and the parties we’ll go to with our friends. We make space for the end of the semester push and the special activities that go along with it. We buzz around shopping for presents. Sometimes, we feel like we should be doing things a little differently, that we should focus on something more spiritual. But, we think we’ll find time for that in the midst of everything else that really must be done if we are to stick to the schedule.

And yes I know that all this is nothing new either. This picture of the business of life crowding out the presence of Christ is common fodder from the pulpit, and we are all (Carrie and I included) used to hearing (or saying) it and going right on with our lives.

But, here’s the thing – and I hope we’ll all still our minds enough to hear it this time. What we are celebrating at Christmas is amazing. God came down to earth, not clouded in glory or shining with power, but as a human baby. God became human – lived and died along with us so that the world could be made new through the power and faith of each one who believes. And that such a thing would happen surprised everyone … even those who had been preparing the way. Even John the Baptist who was born to testify to the coming of the Messiah sent his disciples to ask if Jesus was the One because things were not going as expected.

The voice of the prophets, the voice of the one crying in the wilderness, the voice of Jesus, the voice of the Spirit speaking in our inner ear. Some shout. Some whisper. But they all come to disrupt our lives, to break into the routines and traditions that numb our perceptions as they carry us along. They surprise us – ask us to stop for a moment and look at our lives and ourselves and see that this is not all that we are meant for. They call us to prepare the way. This time around, let’s listen.

We’ve already started. Last week Carrie helped us clear away some of the brush that clogs the way when she invited us to write down the fears that hold us back on storm clouds so that they could be swept away by the breath of the Spirit. In your bulletins this week, you’ll find a sun symbolizing the light from on high breaking into our lives. I invite you to use this as a focus for prayer during our time of waiting worship. Write on them if you wish … or not. Feed into the light the heavy mountains and the dark valleys that keep you from God. Offer them up for the power of its heat to burn away everything unworthy. The promise we have is that the work will be done for us, that God will make straight the path if we will just take the first step.

Let us keep silence together as we open ourselves to the refiner’s fire and be made pure so that we are ready – ready for the Prince of Peace to burst in on us and lead us down to path to what we are meant to be.