FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, ATLANTA, GEORGIA

Sermon by Rev. Craig Needham Goodrich

The Second Sunday in Advent

December 7, 2008

BEGINNING AGAIN

Scripture: Isaiah 40:1-11, 28-31, Mark 1:1-11

Some of you are familiar with this book I am holding. We call it the “blue book”. It is a devotional guide entitled A Guide to Prayer for Ministers and Other Servants and for years we have given it to our new elders. It is organized by week, with scripture readings for every day and selected prayers, hymns and inspirational writings. One of the men’s groups to which I belong is currently using this guide as we meet together every Monday morning for prayer and encouragement. I recommend it to you as an anchor for your life, particularly in these difficult times. It is available in our bookstore, “The Mustard Seed.”

One thing that always surprises me as I work my way through it every year is that readings end - the book ends - with the last Sunday after Pentecost, which this year was November 30. Of course, the answer is that if we go back to the front of the book we find that it begins with the season of Advent. You see, Advent is the beginning of the liturgical year not the end. So here’s my thought, if Advent is the beginning, maybe it is a good time to begin again.

Advent is Latin for “to come” and it is the season in the Church year in which we anticipate the coming of God in Jesus Christ. Of course, we know that God has already come in Jesus and we look forward to that day at the end of time when he will come again. But in Advent, we ask ourselves what does his coming mean for us, we who worship him here in this place and what does it mean for me? And in what ways do we need to prepare our hearts for his coming.

The scripture we read from Isaiah is a familiar one. Some of you probably started singing Handel’s Messiah to yourself as you listened to the reading for the great composer George Frideric Handel began his oratorio with the words of Isaiah 40, “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people.” The story goes that at the time Handel composed this piece in 1741 he was in debt and depressed. He secluded himself with the words of scripture compiled by Charles Jennens, and when he emerged three weeks later, the Messiah was complete. Out of a time of darkness and despair came a piece of music which has provided hope and light to millions.

But what about the prophet who wrote the original words? And to who were they addressed? Often called the 2^nd Isaiah, this prophet spoke to the people of Judah who were in exile, captive in Babylon in the 6^th century before Christ. Their country and homes had been destroyed and they were in despair, wondering what had happened to them and to their God. Isaiah’s answer was that God had not forgotten them, that God was on the way, and that the way should be prepared by the clearing of a highway, leveling mountains and raising valleys, making rough places smooth. It would be on this highway that the glory of the Lord would be revealed to all people. God will come to his people in might but he will also be as a tender shepherd feeding his flock, gathering lambs in his arms, carrying them in his bosom and gently leading the mother sheep. It is a vision of deliverance and of salvation, of hope and of tenderness, an affirmation that God is on the way.

Several centuries later it is these words from Isaiah that Mark invokes as he describes the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God,

“As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, “See I am sending a messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way: the voice of one crying in the wilderness; “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” (Mark 1: 2-3)

It is John who calls the people to repentance, to be baptized, to confess their sins and receive forgiveness. John clothed in camel’s hair and eating locusts and wild honey. His message is repent, and people did, but he also proclaimed that there was another on the way, who would baptize not with water but the Holy Spirit. When this one, Jesus, is baptized there comes the voice from heaven “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.”

The glory of the Lord has arrived in Jesus of Nazareth and John, the voice crying in the wilderness, prepared the way.

Well, what does all this have to do with us, we who live all these centuries later, we who are celebrating Advent in 2008 in Atlanta, Georgia? What should we be doing? And how are we to prepare the way for God, in our own lives and in our life together in this place?

From these two passages, one thing that is very clear that it is up to God not us. God is the one who is on the way, God is the one who will deliver and forgive. Our response is simply to confess our sin and our need, to simply and humbly receive God’s grace. This sounds easy, but for those of us who like to think we are in control of our lives, “thank you very much”, it actually can be very difficult.

If there is one thing that this current economic crisis has revealed to us, it is how little control we have over our lives and the events that impact us. Can you control the stock market? If you are fortunate enough to own your own home, can you control its value? It is a striking thing to realize how little control we have. And it is a humbling thing to realize our own vulnerability.

Isaiah reminds us of this when he says “A voice says, Cry out!” And I said “What shall I cry?” (And the answer comes) “All people are grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field... The grass withers, the flower fades…. but the word of our God will stand forever.” (Isaiah 40:6-8).

We are like grass. We wither and fade. We get sick. We die.

Last weekend, my wife Andie and I went with friends next door to the High Museum exhibit entitled “First Emperor, China’s Terracotta Army.” It is a fascinating display with artifacts from the time of the Emperor Qin who lived 2000 years ago. Upon his death his body was placed in a huge burial mound, which is still unexcavated, but which was protected by as many as 7000 life size clay warriors, all of whom lay buried in rows, until the 1970’s when a farmer plowing his field struck something hard in the earth and they were discovered. Now a few of them are on display next door. The exhibit is drawing great crowds. As I went through I couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that so many of us, we who are living now, are so fascinated and eager to see remnants from a previous age. I also couldn’t help thinking how fleeting and short and how vulnerable this life is.

I am now 53 years old. I know that to some of you that seems pretty young, to others pretty old. (Don’t we all feel like we are still 18 on the inside ?!) But what I have come to realize in recent years is just how fragile life is. It seems now that Andie and I often talk about how when we were younger we thought that life would simply get better, more secure as time went on, that we would reach a place where everything would be just right. What we have realized is that as life goes on it actually becomes more fragile, and as we age we feel more vulnerable, not less. So we hold each other a little tighter.

All this can be a scary if we think it is up to us to control our lives. On the other hand, it can be a very freeing realization, for it gives us the freedom to acknowledge our weakness and our need for God and one another. You see when everything else is stripped away, the only thing left, and the only thing that really matters, is the grace and the love of God. And that is enough.

Along with our fragility, comes our sinfulness and our need for repentance and confession. Preparing the way for God means confessing our sins as those who responded to John’s wilderness voice did. There is something about the glory of the Lord that even as we recognize it, we feel ourselves unworthy. It is why every Sunday after our hymn of praise, we go right to confession and we confess our sins together. We receive forgiveness and we begin again.

In baptism, the water is a sign of the cleansing of our sin. And when we baptize, even infants, as we did with Caroline [Caroline McCall Hill] this morning, we are saying that it is God who comes to us, who reaches out to us even before we can respond. It is God who knows us in all our sinfulness and unworthiness and yet who in Jesus Christ loves us and forgives our sins.

But note, our weekly confession and our celebration of baptism are both done publically, here together in this place. You see we are connected to each other.

In these hard times there will be -- there are now-- those among us, who are suffering hardships because of this crisis. Everyday I hear how it is causing stress at work, in our finances, in our retirements and in our homes. Friday’s report that in November over 500,000 jobs were lost, the biggest one month loss in over 30 years, is not good news. Maybe you feel that you are in the wilderness.

Listen, if there were ever a time to pull together it is now. If there were ever a time to be there for each other, it is now. If there were ever a time for the church to be the Church and for us to be reminding each other that our hope is in the God who comes to us, it is now.

Yet, it is likely that many who are hurting will withdraw, because it is so hard to ask for help or even be perceived as needing help. We want to be perceived as having it all together, even here at Church.

So let me encourage you, don’t withdraw! Don’t withdraw!

Rather, consider reaching out to those in need. Volunteer to work in our community ministries. Love and serve the poor. Reach out to neighbors, colleagues and friends outside this Church and invite them to come to worship during Advent. Attend Lindsay Armstrong’s Wednesday night Bible study or the Family Advent service. Join a Sunday school class. Join a women’s circle or a men’s small group. Finally, if you know of persons who are struggling or you yourself are struggling, let us know. And remember that the Samaritan Counseling Center, staffed with professional counselors is located here.

You see, we need each other. Somehow we fear that if we disclose our weakness we will be judged by others. We can be so proud. And you know, pride is a sin.

I know it is hard. Twelve years ago as I made a second transition from the practice of law to ministry, I was very fearful. I had money concerns for our family and while I was quite sure that I should no longer be practicing law, I was unsure of what was ahead of me. But I had some friends in this congregation. I determined that I would call two who I trusted and describe what I was going through, to ask them to pray for me and my family, and to call me from time to time to ask how I was doing. That’s it. It may sound simple to you, but to me it was so hard, because it meant taking off that mask of self sufficiency which I like to wear and asking for help. Well, I called them.

As I nervously explained my situation to each, my fear was that somehow they would think less of me. Do you know how they responded? Each one used the same words, “I would be honored to do that.” My fear was replaced with gratitude and encouragement, and it felt so good to know that I was not alone.

Listen, if you are in trouble, if you need help, don’t let pride get in the way. One of the great privileges of being brothers and sisters in Christ is the honor of being there for each other.

Yes, we are weak and vulnerable. But there is nothing wrong with us. There is nothing wrong with you. This is who we are. We are human. We are grass. But there is strength available.

Isaiah said it, “even youths grow weary and the young will fall exhausted, but those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings of eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40: 30-31).

In the blue book, the authors begin their preface this way:

“This book was prepared out of our own desperation and search: desperation to find forgiveness for sin, release from guilt, the living God as a companion in our lives and ministries; and a search for resources and disciplines to help keep our relationship with God alive and vital every day. This book, therefore, is not a treatise written by experts; rather it is a collection of resources by two pilgrims.” [Rueben Job and Norman Shawchuck, A Guide to Prayer for Ministers and Other Servants, Upper Room Books (1983) at page 1].

Friends, that is who we are. We are pilgrims, journeying together. Sometimes we lose our way. Thank God, when we do, when we despair and we feel our sin and our weakness, God comes and finds us, and by his grace and in his strength we get up and get going again.

Ultimately it comes down to our hearts, doesn’t it? In Jesus Christ, God comes seeking us. The question is will we let him in? Will we prepare him room?

It is the season of Advent.

God is on the way!

And we are beginning again.

Thanks be to God!

Alleluia.

Amen