The Baptist's Cry

*This entry is taken from my sermon on the Second Sunday of Advent, 10/13/15.*

"The crowds said to John, 'What then should we do?'  In reply he said to them, 'Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.'  Even tax-collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, 'Teacher, what should we do?'  He said to them, 'Collect no more than the amount prescribed to you.'  Soldiers also asked him, 'And we, what should we do?'  He said to them, 'Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.'"

--Luke 3: 10-14

One evening while I lived in New York I was transferring trains at 42nd Street, which requires you to walk a good ways underground.  While you're down there you'll run into all kinds of folks:  street musicians trying to make a couple bucks, tourists who have no idea where they're going, and the inevitable street preacher.  I can still remember one of them, standing by a set-up with some tracts on it.  'How do you know if you're going to heaven?' is what the tracts were called.  This guy, though, caught my eye:  he wore tattered clothes, his shoes were untied, his hair was crazy, and he smelled like an ashetray that had been dipped in bourbon--bad bourbon.  As he handed me the tract he said 'Here ya go, young man, God bless ya.'  And I went on my way and never saw him again.  I said to the person walking with me, 'I think that was John the Baptist!'

John the Baptist or a homeless person?  You decide.

I suspect that that is a common visual that we get when we imagine John.  He lived in the dessert, so his skin must have been like leather.  We're told he ate locusts and honey, a cloak of camel's hair, and a rope for a belt.  Most depictions of John show him with crazy hair, beady eyes.  Not the kind of guy that you would want to run in to while transferring trains.  But something about this guy drew the people from all over, drew every single kind of person.  Because as crazy as this guy may have seemed, he had the answer to the question that every person, rich, poor, Jewish, Roman, wanted to ask:  what must I do to be saved?

Tracts like the one that John's long lost cousin gave me under the 42nd Street train station try answering that question.  You know the kind I'm talking about:  they're usually done like a comic strip and show a person making two choices, one of the choices lands them in hell, the other in heaven, and then the strip asks you which choice you'll make. But I don't think it's that simple.  We cannot expect to read a tract and have it all figured out.  Nor could the folks coming from all over to see John expect to merely listen to him and have it all figured out.  And John knew it. 

He puts the work of salvation back on the shoulders of the people.  To the tax collectors, the ones who were despised because they tended to overcharge folks, he said to collect only what was prescribed, no more.  To the Roman soldiers, who bullied and abused people that they were meant to protect, he said not to extort by way of threats.  And to everyone else he said, if you have two coats, share one, if you have enough food, share it.  This wasn't some magic formula, this was the kind of work that anybody and everybody could do.  It's the kind of work that we can do.

How many of us have been asked whether or not we are saved?  My response is that I am being saved.  Salvation is not a one-time thing, it's a process.  It happens our whole lives long, and it happens communally.  As Episcopalians, catholic Christians, we believe that salvation is done together.  Through our common prayer, our songs of praise, and the work that we do together, we move ever closer to salvation as members of one Body, the head of which is Jesus Christ.  John knew this.  He was an Essene, a sect of Judaism that abandoned the cities and lived together in the dessert, working together, praying together, and moving ever-closer to salvation together. 

What should we do to be saved?  We should prepare the way of the Lord.  It's been the theme of our Advent.  How can we prepare the way of the Lord?  Well, John the Baptist would tell us that we don't have to give up our roles in society by going out in the living in the dessert like he did, but that we should use our jobs, our skills to work toward salvation together, honoring God by using those things God has given us to strengthen and encourage one another and to glorify God.  I'm currently serving on the steering committee for NETworX Randolph, an organization that seeks to partner churches and other charitable organizations with individuals looking to get out of poverty.  They do so by paring up the individuals--called Champions--with allies who educate them over the course of 16 weeks on ways that they can change their own narratives.  Over time relationships are formed, and lives are transformed.  This happens, not by some magic formula, but by those allies using their own jobs and their own skills to strengthen and encourage those individuals.  The program hopes to get off the ground in September, meaning they'll be recruiting allies over the next several months.   So if you're a teacher, maybe you can use your gift to help someone get their GED.  If you're a banker, maybe you can help someone set up a checking account and teach them how to balance finances.  If you're just a really good cook, maybe you can teach someone how to prepare homemade meals for their family.  NETworX understands what John the Baptist is getting at:  all you have to do is use what God has given you to help one another and you will know what salvation really looks like.  This is what it looks like to prepare the way of the Lord.

NETworX seeks to help folks get out of poverty in a holistic manner.  Check out their Facebook page!

John preached for action and produced it.  He wasn't concerned with theological subtleties in his sermons. He knew that handing out a tract wouldn't do it, and he knew that people wouldn't get it if all they did was listen to him talk.  Instead, he challenged them to go out and make salvation happen with the people that they met on a day-to-day basis.  The same is true for us.  If we sit here and listen to a sermon, or take in the beautiful songs of our choir, or receive the holy sacrament and are not compelled to go out into the world and respond to the Holy Spirit that got stirred up in us, then what are we doing this for?  There's a story of a priest who was standing at the door of the church after a service one Sunday, and folks filed past with the usual "Good sermon." comments.  Finally, someone told him, "I really liked your sermon," to which he responded, "Thanks, but what did it do?" 

What will any of what we experience in our worship communities do to serve one another and especially serve the folks outside our walls.  It's like a priest friend--and fellow actor--has always been fond of saying:  "Sunday morning is the dress rehearsal for the rest of our lives!"  We are meant to take what we hear, see, and feel on a Sunday and put it to good use in our day-to day lives.  What impact will any of it have on our lives and the lives of others? John is still crying out to us to take what we have and use it to better others' lives.  Do that and we will, indeed, be moving together toward salvation.  Do that and we will prepare the way of the Lord.