Sunday, December 8, 2019

Sermon: Needing John (and Accountability) for Advent

Matthew 3:1-12
Needing John (and Accountability) for Advent
James Sledge                                                                                            December 8, 2019

Many of you are aware that the Scripture passages used in worship each week come from something called a lectionary, in our case the Revised Common Lectionary. This is a published list of readings for each Sunday, typically with a reading from the Old Testament, a psalm, a passage from an epistle or letter, and a gospel reading. We never use all the readings, but on most Sundays, we use some of them.
The lectionary follows a three year cycle, imaginatively titled years A, B, and C. Year A features the Gospel of Matthew, year B, Mark, and year C, Luke. The Gospel of John doesn’t get a year but gets woven into all three. As we entered into Advent last Sunday, we transitioned from Year C to A, and so we hear from Matthew today.
If you looked at all the passages listed in the lectionary for Advent, you might be surprised to discover that none sound very Christmassy until the gospel reading on December 22. And John the Baptist shows up on both the second and third Sunday in Advent. A person unfamiliar with church who happened to wander into our worship on those Sundays could be forgiven for suspecting that we didn’t realize what time of year it was. Do we really need to  hear from John so much and so close to Christmas?

One of the nice things for me about preaching from lectionary passages is the wealth of resources that are available to help pastors who are wondering what they should say. Because I’m a subscriber to the magazine, I get a “Looking into the Lectionary” email each week from Jill Duffield, editor of The Presbyterian Outlook. The one for this week alerted me to a research paper by two Harvard Divinity School students entitled “How We Gather.” This is from its executive summary.
America is changing.
Millennials are less religiously affiliated than ever before. Churches are just one of many institutional casualties of the internet age, in which young people are both more globally connected and more locally isolated than ever before.
Against this bleak backdrop, a hopeful landscape is emerging. Millennials are flocking to a host of new organizations that deepen community in ways that are powerful, surprising, and perhaps even religious.[1]
The study looked at a number of these organizations and noticed six themes that showed up in most all of them. They are: Community, Personal Transformation, Social Transformation, Purpose Finding, Creativity, and Accountability. These sound like the sort of things that a church might aspire to provide. We have a Community Building ministry team here. Our Justice Ministry would seem to be about social transformation. The Spiritual Growth Team surely hopes to help with both personal transformation and purpose finding.
Most of the themes this study identified show up with some regularity in congregations. One of them, however, is conspicuously absent, at least in most Mainline churches: Accountability, which the study defined as “holding oneself and others responsible for working toward defined goals.”
I don’t know if you’ve ever thought about it, but in all the Presbyterian churches I’ve ever been a part of, there were pretty much zero expectations of members. If you say you want to join, the church is happy to have you. From that point on, you can decide what that means to you. You are free to participate as much or as little as you want.
If you never once attend a single spiritual growth class or opportunity, that’s fine. If you never give a single dime to support the ministries of the congregation, no one will call you wondering where your offering is. If you never once help at a Welcome Table, teach a class, sing in the choir, serve as an usher, join a ministry team, or any of the myriad other ways you might share your energy and talents in the congregation’s work and ministry, no one will ever say to you, “Hey, do your share.”
That was not always the case in churches, and certainly is not the case in the organizations profiled in that “How We Gather” study. One of these is something called CrossFit. I was vaguely aware of it, but thought of it as just a gym. That’s clearly not the case. The study said that the most striking things about CrossFit are the evangelical zeal of members and the way they hold one another to account. CrossFit expects members to call each other out if they don’t appear at their usual time, and to let others know if they’re out of town. One member they interviewed said this. (“Box” is the CrossFit term for one’s particular gym.)
My CrossFit box is everything to me. I’ve met my boyfriend and some of my very best friends through CrossFit. When my boyfriend and I started apartment hunting this spring, we immediately zeroed in on the neighborhood closest to our box—even though it would increase our commute to work. We did this because we couldn’t bear to leave our community. At our box, we have babies and little kids crawling around everywhere, and it has been an amazing experience to watch those little ones grow up. CrossFit is family, laughter, love, and community. I can’t imagine my life without the people I’ve met through it.
I have a hard time imagining anyone deciding to live close to their church even if it makes their work commute more difficult. I doubt that the lack of accountability is the sole reason for that, but perhaps it is a part.
In that lectionary email I received, Jill Duffield suggested that part of what made John the Baptist pack in the crowds was his insistence on change and accountability. Think about it. Why would people flock to an oddball like John? If I encounter a street preacher on the sidewalk, I cross to the other side of the road, but people were traveling long distances in rough conditions just to get to John.
Could it really be that John’s call to repent, to change in preparation for God’s new day, was a big part of his appeal? Could it be that this is exactly what people who fear they are not enough need to hear, that not only does God love them, but God knows their capacity for transformation, for discovering deeper meaning and purpose than they will ever discover chasing the empty consumer promises of our culture?
If so, then perhaps John’s voice is the one we most need to hear at Advent, and at Christmas. We need to hear him remind us that it doesn’t matter if we belong to the right church or go to the right school or have enough money or any of the other enoughs our culture tells us to chase. What matters is that we bear fruit worthy of repentance, that we hold ourselves and each other accountable to working toward the transformed lives and transformed world that John and Jesus invite us to become a part of. Or as Jill Duffield puts it,
I am not fond (not initially anyway) of being called on my viper-ness. It stings. And yet, I need people in my life who love me enough, who believe in me enough, who know God's grace and power well enough, to call me to repentance, trusting that transformation is possible and I am worth the trouble of the work and the time and the energy it takes to help it come to fruition. John the Baptist, the gospel and the church offer that kind of accountability and, believe it or not, others in this world are searching for it, too.



[1] Angie Thurston and Casper ter Kuile, “How We Gather,” 2017, https://sacred.design/wp-content/uploads/2019/10/How_We_Gather_Digital_4.11.17.pdf

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