"What Can We Do?"

Scripture: Luke 3:7-18

I’ve always wondered what it would be like to start a sermon off by going “You brood of vipers!”

Eric typically starts his sermons off with a prayer that says something similar to “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you” that comes from Psalm 19.

Pastor Meg frequently starts hers off with the standard Pauline greeting, “Grace and peace to you from our God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ…”

I don’t typically have a standard opening to my sermons, but I was thinking maybe I could adopt John’s. “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Can I get an “Amen”?

(Surprisingly, the congregation at all three services gave me a resounding "Amen!" Hmmm... perhaps I should actually look into this preaching style)

But in all seriousness… I guess starting your sermons off that way was more popular back in John’s day. And their definition of good news was apparently a little different, too.


 “The chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire… So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.” THAT’s good news? Really? I’d hate to hear the bad news.

But once we get beyond the fire, brimstone and name-calling, there is an element to this story that I think rings true for every single person who is sitting here.

In the midst of hearing about judgment and messianic hope – the crowds ask a question that we continue to ask today.

What can we do? What is our role? How do we participate in the Kingdom of God? What are we supposed to be doing with our lives as we live in the “now” and the “not yet”?

How do we live in the midst of a world that is constantly rocked by tragedy? By senseless school shootings and other acts of violence against each other?

What can we do?

In the face of helplessness and atrocity that we cannot even begin to fathom at times, what can we do?

Well... we can do what Christians have been called to do for two thousand years...actually, longer than that.

John’s message is really nothing new. It’s a message the prophets have been harping on for generations. A message Jesus will pick up on and continue – and all of his “radical” ideas regarding discipleship and Godly living center around these basic principles.

Care for your neighbor. Do what is right. Don’t extort money. Be fair in your business practices. Don’t be a bully. Share what you have.

Respond to hate and violence with love and caring. Reach out to the disenfranchised.

I think what’s interesting in Luke’s gospel is who we find in these crowds. It’s not just your typical religious folk who standing at the river wanting to be baptized, listening to John’s words.

It’s the outsiders. Tax collectors. Soldiers. Not soldiers like our men and women in uniform today. These “soldiers” were more like mercenaries, thugs who earned their wages by extortion and threat.

These people are the riff-raff of society. The misfits. The people who didn’t belong because they were part of shady professions, notorious for shake-downs and theft.

The outcast. The socially and morally questionable. Tax collectors, similar to the "soldiers" were people who make their profit by squeezing their neighbors on behalf of Rome. They’re hearing from John how the wheat will be separated from the chaff and burned up. That the one who comes brings with him the refining fires of judgment.

Therefore they, not surprisingly, ask John – “What can we do?” How can we change? This is what we do for a living, this is the world that we live in – so what can we do?

John’s message is somewhat of a double-edged sword. On the one hand – it’s harsh. “You brood of vipers? Who told you to flee?” A rhetorical question like God’s “Who told you that you were naked?”

But the flip side is – John is actually addressing these people. He’s talking to them. He’s inviting them in, in his own, bizarre way, to be part of something most religious people would shun them from.

What must we do? How can we be part of this? We’re kind of shady people – but is there still hope for us?

John’s response – yes, there is still hope. Even for the tax collector and the mercenary. You can still be part of this kingdom of God thing. It isn’t too late. The promise is for you, too.

What can we do?

And it doesn’t demand people stop their professions and become pastors or monks or anything like that. They can continue to be tax collectors, soldiers, whatever it is they are doing – but simply to do it in a way that is of benefit to their neighbor. That they don’t abuse whatever position they hold. That they don’t take advantage of the people they are working with.

Tax collectors – don’t take more than what you’re supposed to. Mercenary soldiers – don’t extort, threaten, and lie.
 
John invites them to participate in God’s coming kingdom wherever they are and whatever they may be doing.

All they need is just enough faith that God is at work in and through the ordinary and mundane elements of their lives.

What can we do?

Same goes for us. Wherever we are and whatever we may be doing, the call is the same.

What can we do?

John is not calling them, or us, to be perfect people. Not even heroic or above and beyond. Businessmen, be businessmen, but be fair and keep the community in mind. Are you a teacher? Do so with patience and hope. Even the unemployed – you have gifts to offer the community you live in. The list can go on and on.
But you get the idea.

Faith for John is far more than just a spiritual experience or a belief. It involves those things, yes, but it is far more than that as well. Faith that bears fruit involves how we live out our lives in regards to loving our neighbor. Not depriving our neighbor of what they need, cheating them, or trampling upon them – but instead providing for and sharing with them.

It is a promise of something better, something refined, something purer – that we are all invited into right here and right now.

While we look forward to God’s redemption, John calls us to look at our present while we wait. Calls us to recognize that a part of the hope that we have in creating a better world involves OUR participation in this world – no matter who we are or what we do. That it involves us living out our lives each and every day in ways that serve the common good.

Take note of the simple and every day acts of kindness and mercy that you see around you.

The police man who gave the boots to the homeless man. The person in line at the supermarket who decides to pay someone else’s grocery bill – just because.

Reach out to someone you see in our own society as an outcast or misfit. Maybe we don’t have the tax collector and the mercenary, but we have many other people in our society that just don’t “fit” in, that are troubled, that are crying out desperately for someone to just care about their pain.

This can be difficult – believe me, I know. There are people that just absolutely drive me up the wall, and trying to care about them at times is extremely difficult. They’re many times just easier to ignore and hope they just kind of “go away.” Many don't even want our help.

But then I have to remember – no one else wants to care about them, either. And those little acts of kindness might be enough to change a person’s life. Even if it means you just get to know them well enough to know they need help you can’t provide.

I am reminded of Charles Dickens' “A Christmas Carol” (shocking this time of year) and the parting message of the Ghost of Christmas Present. The spirit finally reveals to Scrooge two emaciated children, subhuman in appearance and loathsome to behold, clinging to his robes, and names the boy as Ignorance and the girl as Want. The spirit warns Scrooge, "Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased," underscoring the book's social message regarding neglecting the least of our society.

Those we ignore and cast aside we cause to be doomed to certain fates that rarely turn out well. Doomed to lives of anger, vengeance, and violence on a world they perceive as cruel. We can't control their actions by any means, but we can control ours. We can control how we respond to the people around us - the people in need.

John calls us to a quiet, persistent faithfulness each and every day. A faithfulness that moves us forward in hope toward a promise everyone is invited into.