The Politics of Exclusion, and What God’s Doing about It

Sermon for Advent 3 – Malachi 3:1-4

So let me tell you, Advent just don’t get no respect. I don’t know about you, but I think it’s the most shortchanged season of the church year. It’s not just that Advent is only four weeks long. It’s like we’re not sure what to make of Advent. A lot of people think Advent is a season of preparation. A lot of my pastor friends are posting on Facebook these days – How are you preparing for Jesus? I guess that makes sense. In our readings that phrase “prepare the way of the Lord” keeps popping up, so it sticks. But what does it actually mean? Well, a lot of people think that means Advent is like a 4 week-long tailgate party to fire up for the big Christmas shindig. Congregations go into overdrive with special events. We get busy with holiday plans and Christmas sales and 24/7 Christmas music on the radio and Hallmark specials you don’t want to miss! Not that I hate all that (well, I do kind of hate the Hallmark Channel but this isn’t about me). Anyway, how overwhelming is that?

Other people think preparing the way of the Lord means some kind of spiritual housecleaning. They start thinking about mediation and quiet. Make some tea, light some candles, pick up an devotional, try to pray more. Now, there’s nothing wrong with any of that. I should do more of that myself. Except, we can do that any time. We don’t really need a special Advent season to play spiritual catch up.

So here’s the thing. what if Advent isn’t really a season of preparation?

The word “advent” doesn’t mean “prepare”. It means “coming”. The coming of the Lord. But how today’s readings tell it, what “advent” REALLY means is “news flash, the Lord is coming to turn everything upside down!” Isaiah says that the coming of the Lord means every valley will be filled and mountain made low. The crooked made straight and the rough ways made smooth. That’s not peace. That’s an earthquake. That doesn’t sound like baby Jesus in a manger. It sounds like Jesus overturning the moneychangers’ tables in the temple. It sounds like Jesus tearing everything apart. And that should make us very nervous, because we know things aren’t right between the people of God. We know the segregation of our churches and communities. We know the politics of exclusion – who can be ordained, who can marry, who can be allowed to receive the Lord’s Supper. We know the gospel of nice and the threat of speaking out for fear of what it can mean for our relationships with each other. I’m always painfully aware of when I speak and don’t speak. But it’s not just a church problem. It’s a human problem. So, maybe this has a lot to do with all the talk about Advent being a season of preparation. Not that spiritual self-renewal is bad. It’s absolutely good. And Lord knows we all fall short. But it’s also safer to hunker down against insurmountable odds. We can’t escape that double bind. Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

But God is very aware of all this. In our first reading, the prophet Malachi tells us what God intends to do about it. See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple. This should be the ground of our hope, because God won’t be separated from us any longer. But Malachi also says “who can endure the day of his coming?” The messenger WILL prepare the way, but this preparation isn’t candles or wreaths or Advent calendars. This kind of preparation looks like hell. A refiner’s fire that never quenches, to purify the descendants of Levi and refine them like gold and silver UNTIL they present offerings to the Lord in righteousness. Levi was the priest, his descendants are the church, and we’re a priesthood of all believers, so Malachi means us. He is like fuller’s soap, but the prophet doesn’t mean Woolite. He’s talking about how our ancestors used their feet to grind salts into their garments to clean them, but slowly destroying the fabric in the process. So when Malachi prophesies that the Lord WILL come to his temple, he’s promising that God will get what God wants from us, but what will we lose in the process? Our lives?

Well, we know what the prophet doesn’t know. Because this is Advent and the Lord we seek has come to his temple. The Lord has come in Jesus, God’s living Word made flesh, come among us so that we would be his living temple, because this is the God of life and creation. See, Jesus knows our hearts and minds and the insurmountable odds that we face. He knows the cost of righteousness that we can’t pay. He knows what forsaken feels like. And that’s why Jesus goes to the cross, to suffer the refiner’s fire that never quenches, to be trod and torn apart under the fuller’s feet, to give his own life, for us. And after three days he rises, so that we would be raised to new life with him. But this isn’t just a prophecy or future vision. This is real – it’s our new life right here and now that can never be taken away from us. The resurrection is a done deal. Jesus never asked us if we wanted it. He didn’t wait for us to prepare. He did it anyway, and everything in heaven and earth has been accomplished for us. All flesh shall see the salvation of God.

Not that resurrection is easy. Jesus never promised that. But Jesus knows, so he sends us the Holy Spirit to come and make faith in us, so that we could trust that Jesus means it when he says I forgive you. The only word that kills and makes new. I mean, God knows dying and rising is hard. But it takes a whole lot of faith to know that this is the best possible good news for us. The kind of faith that realizes that Isaiah was absolutely right. Every valley will be filled, and every mountain made low as God levels us to see and rejoice that we’re all equally God’s beloved. The kind of faith that knows Jesus really is tearing everything apart, every wall we build to keep others out. The kind of faith that slowly but surely dismantles our segregation and exclusion.

Yes, it’s slow. God never does anything the easy way. But that’s how it goes while Jesus prepares us for the coming of the Lord in fullness. His own coming, for us. So, maybe that’s what Advent is really all about. The season of preparation, when Jesus prepares us because he knows we’re never ready. And thank God he’s not done yet.

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