Monday, December 7, 2020

Faded Away as Grass Into Mother Earth: Where New Life and New Possibility Await

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Emmanuel Episcopal Church
December 6, 2020
2 Advent, B
Isaiah 40:1-11
2 Peter 3:8-15a

Mark 1:1-8



Faded Away as Grass Into Mother Earth:

Where New Life and New Possibility Await


When I hear of John preaching a baptism of repentance, images often come to my mind of a Hollywood version of someone shouting, “repent” to unsuspecting and rather baffled passersby.  The shouting is kinda lame, usually overacted, and is basically just some forced tone-setting for the film.  As for he crazed “repent” shouter, he’s kinda ridiculous, as if people changing their ways would somehow end the alien invasion which had just begun with space ships arriving and lasers firing.  So much for Hollywood’s version of repentance.  


Now, when John was in the wilderness proclaiming a baptism for repentance, he wasn’t trying to end an alien invasion.  Israel had been invaded, more or less, by Rome, but John wasn’t trying to end invasion with his calls to repentance.  He was also far less creepy than the Hollywood guy.  Rather than frighten unsuspecting people on the streets of New York, John was out in the wilderness, and people came to see him.  They actually liked and wanted to hear what he had to say. 


Rather than ending an invasion or scaring people, John’s call for repentance was less crazy, Hollywood, weirdo guy, and more “Comfort, O comfort my people…Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that she has served her term…”  John was calling people into a life freed from the worst of themselves and into a life of hope, mercy, and love.  That is what the people went out into the wilderness to hear. 


A voice says, “Cry out!”  And I said, “What shall I cry?”

All people are grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field.

The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people are grass. (Isaiah 40)


Those are words of comfort.  In the great struggle and hectic nature of our lives, striving for so much, weighed down by the great importance of all we have to do, we are reminded that we are grass.  The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it.


Our efforts and striving are important to us and to those we love.  Our lives are important, but eventually, we will all fade as the grass.  We will become one with the earth once again, and someone else, some new grass, will grow in our place.  They will take the place on the earth that we once had. 


They will do their own striving while we rest, faded away as grass into mother earth, where all kinds of new life and new possibility await with the God of hope, mercy, and love who calls, “Comfort, O comfort my people.”  That is the kind of repentance that John calls for.  Rest.  Breathe.  Trust.  Let go the weight of your struggles.  Remember that you are grass, and be at peace.  


Repentance is not a call of anger and fear.  Repentance is a call of hope, mercy, and love which helps lead us to a place of peace.  


I heard the radio show, On Being, with Krista Tippett where she interviewed Bryan Stevenson an attorney who is the founder and executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative in Montgomery, Alabama.  Mr. Stevenson began working for justice for people on death row, many of whom were incarcerated unjustly.  You may have seen the movie about him and his work called, Just Mercy, based on his book, Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption.


In the interview with Krista Tippett, Mr. Stevenson talked about his work for justice and his way of viewing the world with hope, and mercy, and love.  Without hope, he said, we’re trapped where we are, unable to move beyond whatever has us stuck.  Without hope, we’re unable to move beyond injustice.  Without hope, we’re unable to move beyond the worst of who we are as people and as a society.


So hope is how we can begin to move beyond the worst of ourselves.  Then we need, mercy.  With mercy then, we can understand people as being more than the bad parts of ourselves.  Mr. Stevenson says, “Each of us is more than the worst thing we've ever done.”  That’s the view of God towards us as well.  God offers us hope, sees us with mercy, and tells us that we are so much more than the worst thing we have ever done.  That’s the baptism of repentance to which John called people in the wilderness.  


Repentance means that with that hope and mercy, we then get to reckon with those worst parts of ourselves.  We have to reckon with the worst of ourselves because we can’t be free of those things, free of the worst parts of ourselves, if we don’t bring them with us when we come seeking mercy and redemption.  When we do bring those worst parts of ourselves with us on our journey of repentance, then we find God saying, those worst parts of you are grass.  “The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it.”  


With John’s hopeful and merciful calls to repentance, we find that we are loved and that we are lovable.  Repentance is not a scary, angry call from a lunatic.  Repentance is a call of love, calling us to turn from and let go of the ways that keep us down.  Repentance is a call of love to turn from and let go of the ways that keep us selfish (and therefore fearful).  Repentance is a call of love to turn away from and let go of the ways that keep us callous and unconcerned for others (and therefore fearful and contemptuous).  


Repentance acknowledges the fear and anger within us, and then repentance turns and lets go of that fear and anger.  Repentance frees us from the hopelessness which keeps us bound and stuck where we are, so that we then we find mercy and love from a God who does not define us by the worst things we have done.  We find instead a God who says, “Comfort, O comfort my people…” Rest.  Breathe.  Trust.  Let go the weight of your struggles.  Remember that you are grass, and be at peace.  


Then, we can live that peace.  Freed from that which binds us, freed from our shame, freed from the anxieties and fears of this life, we can look at this world through the eyes of hope.  See, there is anger, injustice, greed, exploitation, all sorts of terrible things in this world.  With hope, we can see that the world doesn’t have to stay that way, and we can see that there is so much beauty and light in the world as well.


Through repentance and hope, we can view ourselves, and others, and the world with mercy.  Mercy to see that those who do terrible, thoughtless, and callous things are also so much more than the worst things they have done.  Those we view with the most contempt need mercy and hope just like we do.


Then, with hope and mercy in our hearts, repentance leads us to love.  Having been loved by a just and merciful God, we are freed to love with justice and mercy.  We are freed to strive for justice and mercy.  Those places and people in our society in need of justice and mercy, the ones that grab our hearts and call to us, we are freed to strive for justice and mercy through God’s love.


That is the repentance to which John calls us, a repentance which allows us to strive for justice and mercy because we have been loved by a God who sees all of the crud and horribleness of our lives and deeds and says, “You are so much more than the worst things you have done.”  Through the repentance to which John calls us, we find a God who says,“Comfort, O comfort my people…”  Remember that you are grass.  “The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it.”  Rest.  Breathe.  Trust.  Let go the weight of your struggles.  Remember that you are grass, and be at peace.

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