Second Sunday of Advent (C), December 6, 2015; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
Baruch 5:1-9 So that Israel [“the one who wrestles with God”] may walk safely in the glory of God.
Phillipians 1:1-11 And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.
Luke 3:1-6 And all flesh shall see the salvation of God.
O God of the prophets, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.
In the third year of the presidency of George W. Bush, son of George H. W. Bush; when Mitt Romney, son of George Romney, was governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, during the Episcopacy of M. Thomas Shaw, Jr., and during the 26th year of the Rectorate of George M. Chapman and the 2nd year of the Assistant Rectorate of Pamela L. Werntz at a parish in Brookline named after St. Paul, the word of God came to a homeless person named Matthew in the wilderness (the wilder-ness) of the Boston Common. [1] He went into all the region around Boston, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah and the evangelist Luke: “The voice of one crying out: “in the wilderness ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’” In other words, the lone voice of one yelling — in the wilderness – the dangerous place – the unclean place of madness, of testing and of demons and of chaos: get to work on making God’s way, which of course, is Love’s way. To make God’s way, you will raise up the depressed places, lower the insurmountable obstacles, straighten out the run-around, make the rough ways easy so that ALL people can see the goodness of God – the goodness of Love — salvation.
This past week, the Associated Press picked up a news story by journalist Mark Pratt about a church in Boston that provides hospitality for artists who are living on the streets and under bridges, or who are very poor and marginally sheltered. [2] That church is this church of course. Emmanuel – God With Us. The article mentions that common art was “founded in 1996 [I think it was actually 1999] when a homeless person told a local pastor that he wanted a place to be creative.” The local pastor was The Rev. Debbie Little, a priest who was raised up for ordination by Emmanuel Church, and who started common cathedral, the outdoor church on the Boston Common, and then outdoor churches all over the country. The homeless artist was Matthew. I met Debbie in 1997 and Matthew in 1998. Debbie became a role model for me, and Matthew became a spiritual guide. Some of his early art hangs in my office on the inside of my door, so that I never leave my office without a reminder of the importance of being creative.
The timing of the AP story and this Gospel message from Luke this week was so striking to me. Luke begins by setting the political and religious and social context for John the Baptist’s prophetic work. He names and dates the political hierarchy and the religious hierarchy. And then he says where the word of God came. Not to the people in positions of power and public trust. No. According to Luke, the Word of God came to John, a nobody who lived in the middle of nowhere. Luke wants the contrast to be very clear.
And what was this nobody crying out? He was crying out that there must be a decisive change in direction because the present course of the nation and its institutions leads to destruction [3] and away from love. He was crying out that the government and the religious institutions must turn around, stop turning away from God, and turn toward God and proceed in a new direction for the forgiveness of sins. What was my friend Matthew crying out at announcement time at common cathedral in October a dozen years ago? In the sideways blowing cold, cold rain, Matthew was crying out that it is SIN that keeps church doors locked when the shelters are overcrowded, and underfunded, and unable to accommodate all of the people who are homeless, who have no place to stay warm and dry – or to get dry once they’ve been soaked. He was crying out that this is a violation of baptismal vows (every single one of them). He was crying out that lives are at stake here – and indeed our very souls are at stake here –– and that the path of in-hospitality leads away from God to destruction – because it is devastating to not receive or give hospitality when lives are at stake. Matthew was crying out that opening our doors leads to expansive life and love. He’s right.
From the way Luke the Evangelist tells the story of John the Baptist, it’s clear to me that he wanted us to know that our God is not a trickle down God, but a bubbling up God. So if you are looking for the word of God only in worship – your vision is much too narrow. The word of God is on the streets. Debbie Little has written about her own expanding field of vision, “How did I get to the street? I wanted to learn about God, and I wanted to learn what it is to be a servant. I wanted to get closer to people on the street, to help, to understand, to learn, and to see what it means to love your neighbor…What did the Hebrew prophet mean, what did Jesus mean, when they said if you really want to move closer to the heart of life, to the heart of God, get closer to th[ose who ar]e poor?” [4]
Very early in my ordained ministry I realized that I did not want to be a part of the problem. I am so thankful for the witness of Emmanuel Church for more than a century of offering hospitality to people who are desperate for help. When I speak with someone who is shivering and hungry, I’m so happy that I can invite him or her into our parish hall for something warm to drink and eat. When I speak with people who are struggling mightily with addiction, I’m relieved to be able to invite them into one of the many 12-step meetings that take place at 15 Newbury Street. When I make art on Monday evenings at the prison at South Bay and one of the incarcerated artists asks if there’s an art program they can participate in when they get out, I’m so happy to tell them “yes! And it’s a lot better than the art program in prison!” I was reading over quotations from common art artists that are on the ecclesia ministries’ website. (ecclesia is the name of the non-profit organization that runs common art and common cathedral.) Listen. One artist said, “I don’t know what I would do without you guys and this program.” Another artist said, “I just feel like it’s such a privilege for me to be able to come here each week.” Another artist said, “I would like to give back 25% of this money [from the sale of a piece of art] to say thanks and help keep common art going.” Wow. 25%. These artists teach me so much about faith in the mystery called God, and so much about generosity and dignity.
Nothing about this work is easy or cheap, to be sure. Whether you have the good fortune to be present during the week for any of these grace-filled programs or not, your prayerful presence and your financial support week after week, make this work possible. Together, this is a way that we, as a religious institution, as a parish, repent—turn toward God – turn toward Love. That is the call of Advent – turn toward God – turn toward Love. Turn toward fulfillment of our baptismal promises. I want us to continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, where they shared what they had so that there was not a needy person among them. I want us to persevere in resisting evil, and whenever we fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord. I want us to proclaim by word AND example the Good News of God and God’s redeeming spirit. I want us to seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor – especially our chronically homeless neighbors – as ourselves. (Yes, the mentally ill ones, the addicted ones, the very bad smelling ones – I want us to seek them and serve them.) I want us – I want this parish, to continue to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being. I give thanks to God for all of the ways that this parish already fulfills these baptismal promises.
So to paraphrase the words of St. Paul in his letter to the Philippians that we heard earlier: “this is my prayer, that our love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help us to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ we may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.”