Sunday Service 8th December

Advent 2

8/12/24

Call to worship

Hymn 273: O come, O come, Emmanuel

Reading:  Mark 1: 1-8 Elaine

Prayer

Hymn 279: Make way, make way 

Sermon

Prayer

Hymn 281: People, look east

Communion

Hymn 277: Hark the glad sound

Benediction

Welcome to our meditation for the second Sunday in Advent.

On this Sunday we often look at the work of John the Baptist who came to prepare the way for Christ to come.

Is this something we should try to do for others as we move towards Christmas?

If so how?

We will reflect on that after our reading and prayer from Elaine.

Sermon

I don’t know about you, but Christmas seems to be rocketing closer and closer.

Sometimes...

with all the extra services to prepare and the extra meals and guests to prepare for,

as well as keeping on the normal stuff that needs to be done...

it feels like there are not enough hours in the day.

Everything feels rushed.

Now here’s the thing.

Things spiritual are never done well rushed.

And although for many this may feel like the biggest Christian celebration of the year, often it feels that this celebration comes at the cost to our faith.

Instead of looking forward to Christmas, we are dreading all the extra workload,

a workload that feels that it has nothing really to do with faith and more to do with cultural expectation.

Instead of feeling growth and energy with the religious celebration we feel drained and tired.

It may be that this time of reflection on John the Baptist may come just in time.

So here is the insight that really matters.

The gift of Christmas starts not with what we get; the gift of Christmas starts with what we give up.

Let me take you back, way back, to Moses and the people in slavery in Egypt.

We all know the story.

The people are slaves in Egypt.

Moses the prophet comes with a message from God...that God wants something better for his people, a Promised Land awaits them.

And through a series of plagues Moses forced Pharaoh to let go of the people so they can be free to go to the Promised Land. But to get to the Promised Land they go through a wilderness.

And here is the theological insight we miss.

The wilderness wasn’t an inconvenience.

The wilderness was an essential part of the journey.

When the people entered the wilderness they were free, but they still thought and acted and behaved like slaves.

They were not ready as a people to enter the Promised Land.

They had to give up the ways of slavery and become a people prepared and ready and fit for the Promised Land.

That’s the message we get from this short passage in Mark.

Instead of Moses being the prophet that leads the people from slavery to the Promised Land, we have John the Baptist leading the people from the slavery of their lives   towards a freedom that God offers.

And to do that John the Baptist, like Moses before him, takes the people into the wilderness.

Here is the tough bit.

The start of our spiritual journey starts with us having to give up.

We always think of slavery as a bad thing.

That is was an easy choice for the slaves to give up their slavery and go into the wilderness.

That if they had the choice of slavery, or living in the Promised Land, then it is a ‘no brainer’, of course you will choose the Promised Land.

And we struggle to understand why the people of Israel seemed to spend most of their time complaining to Moses that they wanted to go back.

I confess that in my own life I have never found the things I am a slave to easy to give up.

We may not choose to be slaves, but there is a reason that we choose to stay as slaves...it suits us, it is less frightening than the alternative.

Look at alcoholics.

I don’t think anyone chooses to be an alcoholic.

I think there are a myriad of ways and reasons to become an alcoholic.

But once you are one, it is really difficult to give up.

That is because there is comfort in knowing that you are a victim,

that it is not your fault,

that all the disasters that may follow you are because of the alcoholism.

Now anyone that isn’t an alcoholic, that has to put up with an alcoholic, thinks that that is a really dumb way to look at life.

They don’t blame the alcoholism, they blame the alcoholic because the alcoholic has chosen to stay dependant on the alcohol.

But not the alcoholic, they deep down, see themselves as a good person...it isn’t them that makes the mistakes, it is the alcohol.

They have a disease and you don’t blame someone for having a disease.

To be cured the first thing they need to do is give up the alcohol,

but the alcohol gives them comfort,

the alcohol numbs them from the pressures of life they struggle with,

the alcohol gives them an escape from the responsibilities of life they don’t think they can cope with.

The alcohol may be a false escape from the responsibilities they face,

the alcohol may only be a temporary avoidance from the responsibilities they face,

the alcohol may even make those responsibilities and problems worse,

but for those moments of oblivion, it is still an escape.

For the alcoholic to have the gift of the new life, they first need to give up the alcohol.

Admit they have a problem, and then move into the wilderness of the unknown.

Which brings us to John the Baptist...

We are told in the scriptures that a life in Christ is

a life where we know that the Father loves us deeply. He loved us so much that he gave his only Son to live our life, so that we could live his life,

a life where the Holy Spirit is guiding us and helping us and inspiring us,

a life where we can be Christ like, where we can give our lives to help others because we are so secure that our life is in the hands of God.

This is a life of sacrificial generosity, a life of joyous compassion, a life of faithful openness to the needs of the world we live in, a life of forgiveness to others and ourselves and growing from our mistakes.

A life where we are inspired in our actions by love and hope and not guilt and shame and insecurity.

Who would not want to live that life?

And yet I would defy many in the church to feel that is the life they constantly, or consistently, live.

Why do we not have that life?

Why are we not willing to give up the life of having to control everything?

Why are we not willing to give up the life of stuff mattering more than people?

Why are we not willing to give up the life of holding on to our suffering rather than letting it go?

Why are we not willing to give up our life of pretending that we are content...while we are living lives of worry and insecurity?

Why are we not willing to give up our lives of grudges and blaming others rather than taking responsibility?

Why?

Because there are comforts in the life that we have.

If we are victims, if others are to blame, then there is nothing we have to do, nothing to take responsibility for.

And like the alcoholic,

it may be a false escape,

it may just be temporary avoidance,

it may even make things worse in our lives,

but for the moments immediately in front of us,

it feels like enough of a relief to help us live.

We believe the lie that a false peace is better than no peace.

Let me tell you about the wilderness.

The wilderness seems scary.

The wilderness looks like it doesn’t have enough in it to survive.

The wilderness seems basic and barren.

The wilderness seems unnaturally quiet, frighteningly quiet, as if there are things waiting patiently to sneak up on us and ambush us.

Yet that is where Moses took the people;

that is where John the Baptist took the people.

The wilderness is the place that we have to leave where we have been, who we are and what we have.

And in doing that we see there are so many things that we have had

things that we think give us peace, and they haven’t given us peace at all.

But here’s the thing...we can’t have real peace, until we are ready to give up the false peace.

The wilderness is the place where we have to leave behind all the things we think give us security, the people, the things, that we think make our life safe, and they haven’t at all.

But we can’t have real security until we are ready to give up the false security.

The wilderness is the place where we have to leave behind all the comforts and the extravagances, the things that we think makes life worth living, because in reality they do not make our life meaningful at all.

But we can’t have a life that is worth living until we give up the life that isn’t worth living.

And I know that sounds scary, I know that sounds unpredictable, I know that sounds like a great risk...maybe too much of a risk.

Our natural instinct is to try to hold onto what we have

and only after we see what it is like in the wilderness and whether it is worth it, will we even think of giving up anything.

But it doesn’t work that way.

We cannot accept the hand of God’s guidance until that hand is empty of all the other things we think give us security.

And here is the comfort I want to give you.

Once we are in the wilderness, scary as it seems,

we find that that is where God meets us.

in the emptiness of the wilderness we see that God gives us everything we need.

In the silence of the wilderness we hear God speaking to us clearly.

The gift of Christmas starts not with what we get; the gift of Christmas starts with what we give up.

For Mary to find true security she had to give up the security of family and trust in God’s path of obedience.

For Joseph to find his purpose he had to give up the expectations he had and trust in an unexpected pregnancy.

For the wise men to see Christ they had to leave their kingdoms and wander into the unknown, following God’s path for them.

If we want the life God wants for us, really want the life God wants for us, a life of love and forgiveness and purpose and openness,

then we need to give up the life we have, become followers and disciples of the Christ who comes into our lives and calls us to be like him.

We need to be like the advent candles...you see, if we want the darkness in our life to go away, then we need to become a light for the world. .

Let us pray

Moving into the wilderness?

Heavenly Father, how we work to tame your unconditional, unpredictable love;

how we try to box, it and name it, label it and tuck it away safely inside the cages of our theology.

Bringing it out when we need it or want it and trying to tuck it away again when we find its demands inconvenient.

Sometimes we even try to hide your love deep, deep, inside

in case someone might see or judge or challenge our beliefs.

To truly love, we have to turn our will and our actions into your way of loving;

which means a new way of living:

a wilder way,

a way that ignores fear

and runs roughshod over misunderstanding and misdirection.

Lord, let us hear your voice,

the one calling us to beat our grudges into forgiven relationships

the voice calling us to share your story in us with others,

the voice telling us that we can be servants of love rather than dictators of our own destiny.

Wherever you call us, even if it be into the wilderness.

May we see that it is better to be in the wilderness with you, than to be alone in our won world. Amen.