Sermon: The Grass Withers... BUT

 Isaiah 40:1-11
The Grass Withers… BUT

James Sledge                                                               December 6, 2020 – Advent 2

Christ the Good Shepherd, 5th century mosaic
in the Mausoleum of Gall Placidia, Ravenna, Italy

I’m no musician, but I love music. I like many kinds, though I typically listen to alternative, or indie music in the car or at my desk. One sort of music I don’t much like is Christmas songs from popular bands. That is true when they cover traditional songs, but even more so when they create original ones.

A notable exception for me is rather different holiday offering from Greg Lake of Emerson, Lake, and Palmer fame. It was released way back in 1975, but it has been covered more recently by folks such as U2. Some have said it is an anti-religious song, but Lake claims it was a protest over the commercialization of Christmas. Regardless, the lyrics are hardly the typical, cheery, holiday fare.

They said there'll be snow at Christmas.  They said there'll be peace on earth.

But instead it just kept on raining;  A veil of tears for the virgin's birth.

They sold me a dream of Christmas.  They sold me a silent night.

And they told me a fairy story 'till I believed in the Israelite.

Like I said; not your typical holiday fare, and Lake was surprised when it became something of a hit. He assumed people would think it anti-holiday and reject it, but no. 

I don’t know why it was a hit, but I do know why it touched me, why it still touches me. It seems to strip away the manufactured cheer that has become such a big part of the Christmas season. Perhaps it could even be called a rock and roll Advent song. Our culture’s celebration of Christmas works very hard to create warmth and good feelings, but these are usually quite shallow and fleeting. We don’t expect them to last. They’ll be tossed to the curb with the dried up Christmas trees, boxes, and old wrapping paper. Then we’ll have to wait until next December to get that holiday spirit, that Christmas cheer, once more.

But Advent is different. It doesn’t try to hide from the world’s pain or ugliness by covering it in colorful wrapping and holiday glitter or drowning it out in cheerful sounds of the holidays. It takes full stock of how things really are. Then, with eyes of faith, it sees God moving in history. Advent anticipates what God is doing to bring about something truly new.

That is the word spoken through the voice of the prophet in our reading this morning.  Second Isaiah, as scholars generally refer to him, is a different prophet from the voice found in the first 39 chapters of the book. That earlier Isaiah spoke of God’s coming judgment on Israel, but the words we heard this morning are spoken some 150 years later. Babylon had crushed Judah, destroyed Jerusalem along with Solomon’s great Temple, and had carried off much of the population into exile. Second Isaiah is one of them, and he speaks to others who live in exile, who are reminded on a daily basis that their god had not protected them from the Babylonians. The Babylonians and their god Marduk, had triumphed. In the religious thought of the ancient Middle East, Marduk had triumphed over Yahweh, and now Yahweh’s people were the subjects of Marduk’s people. 

Into this seemingly hopeless situation, the prophet speaks. “Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.  Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid.”  To a people caught up in suffering and hopelessness, the prophet speaks of God coming to comfort, heal, and restore.

Our reading seems to depict a heavenly court of some kind. There a conversation takes place that the prophet overhears. Then at one point, he seems to be addressed directly.  A voice says, “Cry out!” But the prophet is not sure such a cry will do much. After all, he knows the suffering and hopelessness of his people. So he says, “What shall I cry?” 

Why should the prophet, or the Church for that matter, cry out into the pain and brokenness of the world? What good will it do? After all, people are like grass. They spring up, and in a flash they are gone. The grass withers, the flower fades. What’s the point?

______________________________________________________________

One of the hard lessons I learned when I first became a pastor was that many people like Christmas a whole lot more than they like Advent. That’s understandable. Most of the beloved hymns, carols, and traditions are connected to Christmas. But during my first Advent as a pastor, ink barely dry on my ordination certificate, I was too much the purist. Advent need to be done correctly, and I ignored those advising me to tread more lightly. Fortunately I learned over the years that there is nothing wrong with a few Christmas carols in Advent.

Still, I worry that our half-hearted attempts at Advent end up diminishing the true joy of Christmas. When we fail to engage in the reflection and repentance of Advent, viewing it as nothing more than the religious equivalent of the Christmas shopping season, the hope and promise of a Messiah gets reduced to pageantry, nostalgia, and seasonal cheer. It becomes an escape from the world’s ugliness, cynicism, and hopelessness, an escape that’s pretty much used up by January. Then it’s back to life as usual, to The grass withers, the flower fades.

However, the good news spoken in the Bible, whether it’s today’s words of comfort to exiles in Babylon, or Jesus’ words when he begins his ministry, does not seek to create a brief happy moment, a season of cheer that makes everything feel better for a bit. The good news from God spoken to exiles, to the poor and the oppressed, to those who have lost their way, calls them to new futures. And so it does not ignore the hopelessness and brokenness but addresses them directly. It insists that God will act to bring change, and that we must change to be part of that. Jesus says when he begins his ministry, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent (turn, change), and believe the good news.”

______________________________________________________________

To celebrate the birth of Jesus is to say that God has entered decisively into human history, into people’s daily lives. For God to become human, for Jesus to declare a coming reign of God that so threatened the reign of Caesar that they crucified him, is to insist that God is at work in Christ shaping human history. And to follow this Jesus is to become part of that coming reign of God. It is to live by his teachings so that our lives declare that the real flow of history belongs to God. It does not belong to nations or empires or multi-national corporations because Jesus is Lord, Lord of all creation, Lord even over history. 

But the grass withers, the flower fades. And the world has too much pain and brokenness, too much cynicism, too much suffering. But if Christ abides in us, if we can feel his presence, then we know that the healing touch of God has broken into history. And while it may not happen in ways we’d prefer, God is transforming and renewing us. God in Christ is renewing the world and inviting us to be part of that work of renewal.

The grass withers and the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever. And when that Word made flesh lives in us, we can join with the prophet in proclaiming more than a bit of holiday spirit or Christmas cheer. We can proclaim, and glimpse, and work for a new day. See, the Lord God comes with might… He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep.

Thanks be to God!