Pasadena Presbyterian Church Sermon Text
December 14, 2003

"Telling the Truth on the Way to Hope"

Preached by The Rev. Dr. Barbara Anderson

Scripture:  Luke 3: 7-18

(7) John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, 'You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?  (8) Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, "We have Abraham as our ancestor"; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham.  (9) Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.'  (10) And the crowds asked him, 'What then should we do?'  (11) In reply he said to them, 'Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.'  (12) Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, 'Teacher, what should we do?'  (13) He said to them, 'Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.' (14) 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.'  

(15) As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, (16) John answered all of them by saying, 'I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.  (17) His winnowing fork is 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.'  (18) So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

- Luke 3: 7-18

We stumble over him every year at about this time.  His mother and Jesus' mother were cousins.  But he doesn't sound much like Jesus when he preaches.  Nor did he preach in a big, beautiful church like this one, with its tall pulpit designed to give visual and symbolic authority to the preacher.  You don't find preachers like John in a church like this.  He was relegated to the Galilean outback, the desert.  You had to go out to the desert to hear a preacher like John.

I've never heard that kind of preacher in person.  The closest I get is watching them on television.  They make me too uncomfortable to be there in person.  The preachers shout.  They yell.  They point their finger.  They tell you what you're doing wrong and it seems they've been looking in your window, they're so accurate and specific.  They tell you to think about how you'd live if today were your last day on earth and that you better start living that way right now.  "Get right with God today, because today's the only day you have left to change your life." 

It gets too darned uncomfortable for me.  Who would ever come to hear that kind of preaching?  And yet, people pack into revival tents and assembly halls with their hands in the air to hear precisely that kind of preaching, and they look joyful to be there.

Who wants to hear that kind of preaching?  "Multitudes," says Luke.  When John started preaching, people dropped what they were doing and left the city temples to go out in the desert and hear him.  "You brood of poisonous snakes!  There are weeds in with the good wheat and God's gonna burn 'em.  The ax, the judge, the fire, the flood!  I warn you!  Get baptized and start over!" 

Why would people want to hear a sermon like that?  When preachers get together and talk about what preaching, we discuss the need to be faithful to the biblical text, to listen honestly to scripture and straightforwardly tell the congregation what we have heard in the text.  We talk about the need to connect the truth of scripture with the lived realities of today. 

There's always one preacher present to reassure us that the easy path is best.  "Look, laypeople don't come to church to be told the truth!  They come to be comforted, not to be uncomfortable.  They come expecting to have all their prejudices and preconceptions confirmed.  They come to get stroked and soothed.  That's what people want."  But if that's true, why did so many people flock into the desert to hear John?  Ax, judge, fire, flood!

Most of us preachers vacillate between telling the truth from the pulpit as we see it and chickening out because we're afraid of what we imagine would happen if we really did. Most of us know preachers who were run out of town because the congregation wouldn't tolerate having their apple cart overturned by the preacher.  Many of us can tell stories about the cost we've paid for preaching and doing what we believe we were called to do.  Look closely and you'll see the scars on burned fingers from touching the complacency of a congregation with the fiery words of the Gospel.  Once burned, twice shy. 

So each week as I prepare my sermon, I wrestle with the demons that would water down and soften my words.  "How can I possibly say that to these people?!  I know these people.  I like these people and I don't want them to get upset with me.  I like it here, and I've only just gotten the first floor of my house painted the way I want it.  People don't really want to hear the truth.  It's too painful, and they get too angry, and I'm too scared.  I'm not going to preach that!"

But if that's true, why did so more many more people go to hear a weird-looking preacher stand in a muddy river and preach about axes and fire and judgement than come to our genteel, comfortable churches?   

We don't have the full text of any of John's sermons, but we know that he preached the death of an old world, the breakout of a new.  He was the dog growling outside the door, the rat chewing in the garage, the creature you really didn't want to have around.  You're dirty!  You're doomed!  Smell the fire?  

And multitudes tramped through the briars and the dust in the hope of hearing such sermon.

I expect that we more tame preachers, safe behind our protective pulpits, would be told by John that we sell you short.  When I slip up and say to you more directly than I intend, "You are not right.  Some part of you needs to be cut out, removed, burned away so something new and life-giving can be born," then sometimes you say, "Thank you.  Thank you.  I really needed you to see me as I am and call it straight.  What took you so long? I need you to preach like John." 

That's why they came out to hear John preach.  Somebody heard John can make two points in a sermon: God is coming! And you can change. 

You can get clean, be purified, and start over like a newborn.  Wouldn't it be great to start over again like a newborn baby without history or regret?  That's why they came out to hear John.  What seems to us like a desert wilderness, began to look like Eden when John preached.  Out of the dry dust there was a flower that began to bloom with hope.

The great preacher, Fred Craddock, reminds us of an old movie, The High and the Mighty.  On a flight over the ocean, the pilot's voice announces to the cabin, "There is a problem. We cannot correct it.  We are not going to make it.  I tell you this so that you might prepare yourselves for the inevitable."  An elegantly dressed woman begins to remove the diamond broach from her neck.  The large ring from her finger.  She peels off her false eyelashes, wipes the makeup from her face.  A large scar is now visible on her forehead that the makeup had always concealed.  She is preparing herself for the end.  She will go there as she really is.

The flight is saved, as it turns out.  They make it to the airport.  But the woman has changed.  Honesty was offered to her and she took it, gladly.  She took off the mask and she became who she really was. 

That's why they came out to hear John preach.  He told them the truth.  He told them to stop cheating on their taxes and stop cheating on their spouse.  He told them to stop using their power, whatever it was - physical size, verbal swords, emotional blackmail, status and wealth - to manipulate people.  He told them to stop chasing the almighty dollar and give away what they have.  He told them to stop holding grudges and make room for compassion instead. 

He told the arrogant, abusive people to listen to the ones they were stepping on.  He told the squashed down people to stand up and speak.  He told them all to read their Bible and to pray, to get right with their family and with everybody they've injured.  He told them to start seeing the truth and telling it.  He told them to live as if they were going to meet their Maker today and be judged today for what they've done and what they haven't done.

Why did people come out to hear such preaching?  Because at our best, each of us wants to know the truth.  At our best, we want someone to care enough to speak honestly to us about our need to change.  We long for a dark, shining moment of truth when we are forced to admit that we are not who we ought to be.  Somebody like John holds up a mirror to us, and we see our faces, as we are. 

Chastened, we fall on our knees and ask God to cut out the rotten parts.  To build a fire and purge the weeds that choke out life.  We fall on our knees, we step in the river, we pray from the bottom of our hearts for rebirth, cleansing, change.  John promised the possibility of such turnaround.  Metanoia - that's why we come for such preaching.

God is coming.  You can change.  This was John's message.  None of us is beyond the reach of a loving, gracious God who comes to us that we may turn around and come to God.

John preached that; he still does.  You can't get to Christmas without first meeting him in the wilderness.  Multitudes have.  By God's grace, you will.   Amen.

(I am grateful to William Willimon's Come, Hear John Preach, which provided new insight into preaching this biblical text. - BAA)

(c) Copyright 2003 by Barbara A. Anderson.  All rights reserved.  Permission granted for non-profit use with attribution.