Zephaniah 3:14-20 and Philippians 4:4-7 and Luke 3:7-18
‘Sing
aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter Jerusalem! … The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a warrior who
gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his
love; he will exult over you with loud singing as on a day of festival.’ Zeph. 3:14, 17-18a
‘Rejoice
in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.’ Phil. 4:4
Today
is the Third Sunday of Advent. The moment of light relief in the season of
aching and longing for Jesus to return. The week when, if we are using three
purple and one pink candle in our Advent wreath, we light the pink candle: the
lighter, brighter hue. Gaudete Sunday: the Sunday when our readings from the
Old Testament and from the New Testament Epistles exhort us Rejoice, Rejoice,
Rejoice! [Gaudete, gaudete, Christus est
natus ex Maria virgine, gaudete: Rejoice, rejoice, Christ is born of the Virgin
Mary, rejoice] And the Sunday when we hear, again, the good news as
proclaimed by John the Baptist.
Our
reading from the prophet Zephaniah is an incredible piece of poetry, that
speaks of great and glorious reversal. The Lord has taken away the judgements
against his people; their enemies have been turned away; the fear of disaster,
ended; actual disaster, removed; reproach, spared; oppressors, dealt with; the
lame saved; the outcast gathered-in; shame changed into praise and renown;
exiles brought home; fortunes restored. Why would a community not rejoice at such a proclamation? And
yet, at the very heart of it all, something even
greater: that God’s people are invited to rejoice because to do so is to
join in with the Lord who rejoices over them.
These
words have an original historical context, but they have survived, passed down
to us, because they still speak to us. In the context of Advent, they remind us
that, at the second coming of our Lord Jesus Christ to judge the world we may
be found an acceptable people in his sight—not through any merit of our own,
but because God’s righteous and justified judgements against us have been taken
away by the same Lord, through the victory over death of Christ who opened wide
his arms for us on the cross. Who sings over us on a day of festival.
“Rejoice
in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice” writes Paul to his sisters and
brothers in Philippi. Writing from prison. Writing, hoping to be released and
reunited with them on this occasion, but understanding that sooner or later
faithfulness to the Lord Jesus will mean that he, Paul, will die in a similar
manner. Rejoice, in the face of trials, because the Lord is near. If you listen
closely, we might even catch the strains of his singing.
“You
brood of vipers!” said John to the crowds that came out to be baptised by him, “Who
warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Strong words. Can’t we just have
Zephaniah? Well, if we take Zephaniah as a whole, there are plenty of words as
strong and stronger there. His message begins, ‘I will utterly sweep away
everything from the face of the earth, says the Lord,’ as he proclaims the
coming judgement on Judah, first, followed by judgement on all the surrounding
nations; on Jerusalem, and all of the peoples. This is a process of judgement,
of purification and restoration. A process of separating the wheat from the
chaff.
John
doesn’t speak to exclude the crowds. He would spare them ruin. And the crowds
understand, and respond, “What then should we do?” There is a necessary
outworking of repentance, of this great reversal. As the Dutch priest Henri
Nouwen put it, “You don’t think your way into a new kind of living. You live
your way into a new kind of thinking.” There is a new dawn, a new day, to be
lived into.
Today
is a moment to raise our heads. A moment for the weary to find our strength
renewed by the joy of the Lord. For those whose love has run out to find
ourselves renewed in his love. For those who have been brought low to find
ourselves raised up by his singing.
Why
is this moment given? Because tomorrow we must return to the upheaval of the
new thing the Lord is doing in our midst. We must attend once more to marking
the fears of imagined disaster we need ended for us. We must attend to making
room for the outcasts being gathered-in, and the exiles being brought home. We
must attend to the removal of our mantles of shame—and we have a wardrobe full—and
the putting-on of garments of praise. There are things to be done, in response,
in order to live our way into a new kind of thinking. So today, we rejoice at
the resources given us. Gaudete, gaudete,
Christus est natus ex Maria virgine, Gaudete.
The
work of the people, in response to these texts:
What
reasons do we have to be joyful?
How
do (or, how might) we as a community express joy?
As
a society, we live with well-rehearsed and regularly renewed fear of disaster
in relation to Brexit. How might we speak of the Lord’s declared intent to end
fear of disaster?
What
oppresses us today?
Who
are the outcasts in our context, and how might we as a church live out the
prophetic action of gathering them in?
Guilt
refers to a sense that we have done something wrong. Shame refers to a sense
that who we are is somehow wrong, that there is something fundamentally wrong
with our identity. Where do we experience shame? And where have we experienced
shame changed into praise?
No comments:
Post a Comment