Third Sunday of Advent (Year C)
TEXT: Luke 3:7-18
So, with many … exhortations, [John] preached the good news to the people. (Luke 3:18)
A large two-engine passenger train was crossing Saskatchewan. After they had gone some distance, one of the engines broke down. “No problem,” the engineer thought and carried on at half power. Farther on down the line, the other engine broke down and the train came to a standstill.
The engineer decided he should inform the passengers about why the train had stopped, and made the following announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen, I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that both engines have failed, and we will be stuck here for some time. The good news is that you decided to take the train and not fly.”
We like to play the game of dividing things into bad news and good news; black or white, smile or frown, dance or drag the feet. But things are not as simple as that. In many cases the thing we call bad news is actually good news. That is, the bad news is good news in the long term.
If just before I leave on a long journey I notice a fault in a car tire, I may react as if it were bad news. But in fact discovering that fault is good news. It might well save a lot of trouble later in the trip.
If a physician says, “I’m afraid we must take out your appendix,” we may react as if it is bad news. But in truth it is very good news; it’s wonderful that a potentially life-threatening situation can be so easily rectified.
Good news is not necessarily “nice” news. Good news may be uncomfortable news. In some cases it may involve considerable cost. It may even bring distress and pain in the short term.
Think about the final sentence in the Gospel reading for today: “So, with many … exhortations, [John] preached the good news to the people.” (v. 18)
In the passage leading up to this summary, we hear how John the Baptist thundered at some of those gathered around him by the Jordan. He said, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” (v. 7)
And a little later he speaks of the Messiah who will come, “His winnowing-fork … in his hand, to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” (v. 17)
This is the good news? Doesn’t sound more like bad news for a heap of people?
John’s tough words were not spoken to the merely curious, nor to those who came to scoff, nor to spies who came to gather evidence against him. His words were spoken to those who had asked to be baptized by him. These are the ones he calls a “brood of vipers.”
You know, if you were looking for someone to go door-to-door recruiting new church members … Well, I don’t think you’d hire John the Baptist! He’s just a little bit too caustic.
In today’s gospel, it seems the prospective converts are getting a harsh blast from the desert preacher. What John is saying amounts to this: Baptism is not enough! The outward form is not enough. Just because you’ve been baptized, he says, that does not mean you have truly repented.
Nor is your heritage enough, says John. Don’t tell me you are the children of Abraham; that’s not enough! God can make children for Abraham out of the stones on the ground! Don’t put your trust in your religious heritage, because by itself it means nothing.
Not surprisingly, they ask him, “What then should we do?” (v. 10)
John’s answer is to call for repentance—but not that kind of penitence that is just sentimental whitewash. Penitence, after all, can be limited to just feeling sorry. For some, it can be just a self-centred indulgence. Feel sorry, weep a little to justify yourself—then do nothing about your sin. Penitence can be easy. Penitence can be “nice” news.
Repentance, though, is something else. Repentance is the “very-bad/very-good” news. Repentance is the pain that can heal. It involves taking drastic action. It is usually difficult, and it is always uncomfortable.
Repentance involves a fundamental about-face—a turning away from self-interest toward God. It means embracing God’s will. Repentance means radical change. It results in a transformed outlook, and a new kind of behaviour. This was the challenge John the Baptist threw out to his listeners when he demanded that they “bear fruits worthy of repentance.” (v. 8)
To the ordinary people, he says: “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” (v. 11)
To those disloyal Jews who were employed by the occupation army of Rome to gather taxes, John insisted that repentance meant giving up extortion and only collecting what was fair.
To the soldiers—who were probably there as bodyguards for the tax collectors—he said: “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.” (v. 14)
Repentance is a costly business!
“So, with many … exhortations, [John] preached the good news to the people.” (v. 18)
Good news. Really great news, actually. It sounded harsh—and sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel—but it revealed new possibilities of health in the Kingdom of God. “Repentance and its fruits” comprised John’s message of hope and happiness.
If you’re like me, you tend to run from the hard truth. If you’re like me, you don’t care for discipline all that much.
I think most of us are like that. We shrink from honest confrontation with our own tricky, scheming souls. I guess that’s why so many of us hear a call to repentance as only bad news.
But the good “bad” news is that God is not willing to forsake us—to abandon us upon the stormy seas of our own foolishness and sin.
The call to repentance is a call to truly come home, no matter how arduous the journey—to come home and begin bearing the good fruits that are appropriate for each of our lives.
John the Baptist’s message always looms large at this time of year. His good/bad news is aimed straight at the human heart—but it ricochets off our egos first! His message stings. But it will not harm you or me this Advent.
So … How about it? What shall we do with John and his exhortations? Can we—will we—hear his challenge as good news?
May God grant us wisdom, and courage—and above all, humility—as we consider these things. Amen.