2nd Sunday of Advent - 5 December 2010 [Cycle A]

Second Sunday of Advent - 5 December 2010 [Cycle A]

What's underneath the ritual?

Sermons on John the Baptist and the passages of Scripture that describe his desert ministry often focus on the theme of preparation. Preparation, after all, is the overarching motif of Advent—the call to “Prepare the way of the Lord!” is found explicitly in the Scriptures. And yet, in our eagerness to connect John’s vocation—getting the people ready for the coming of Jesus—to his incredible expression of abject humility—claiming himself unworthy even to carry the sandal straps of his successor—we may overlook the lines in between. In fact, it is probably the case that most who read or hear this passage have never paused to consider John’s other statement about the Pharisees and Sadduccees, whom he rebukes sharply. What is that all about?Returning to a familiar analogy may help.

John the Baptist may be likened to the fullback in football, whereas Jesus is the running back. In most offensive schemes, the job of the fullback is not to carry the ball himself, except very rarely, but rather to clear a path for the running back. That is, the fullback’s role is toprepare the way for the one coming right after him. It’s not about him, really—it’s about the guy behind him. He will almost certainly never be nominated for a Heisman trophy; he won’t be among the first players taken in the Draft; and most casual fans would probably be hard-pressed even to name their own team’s starting fullback on their team. Barry Sanders. Emmitt Smith. Walter Payton. LaDainian Tomlinson. Adrian Peterson. Running backs get all of the glory and win all of the awards. And yet, for the running back to gain any yardage at all, he needs to have a lead blocker. In front of every successful running back is a group of unheralded offensive players who clear the path so that the running back can do HIS job.

The Pharisees and the Sadducees may be likened to diehard football fans who know the rulebook inside and out and who follow the game as much as possible. They consider themselves experts, and they wield their considerable knowledge with zeal and, at times, condescension. In this analogy, they may be labeled “doubters,” insofar as they do not buy into this new fullback’s claims that his running back is the best in the business. In fact, they’re pretty vocal about criticizing the team... right up until they start having enormous success on the field, when all of a sudden they begin gushing about how great the gameplan is and claim they are 100% on board with the strategy in place for the running game. What John the Baptist is saying to these individuals is... are you really sold on this gameplan you’ve been so critical of? Or are you just jumping on the bandwagon now that all the other fans are rallying behind it? Do you really buy into what we’re doing? Or are you simply putting on a show of it? Is this newfound enthusiasm, in a word... legit?
The Pharisees and Sadduccees were undergoing this external physical gesture—being Baptized publicly—and yet John demanded to know from them, “What’s behind your action? What does all this mean to you?”

His words ring true for us today as we consider how we, ourselves, are taking actions to prepare for the coming of Jesus. Many of us will undertake any number of physical gestures this Advent—lighting candles on an Advent wreath, putting lights in our windows, listening to Christmas carols on the radio. And yet, John the Baptist looks us in the eye and says to us, “What’s behind all of that? Are you just doing it because everyone else is doing it? Or does this really MEAN something to you? Is the external ritual (in his case, Baptism in the Jordan; in our case, putting up Christmas decorations and baking sugar cookies) connected to or motivated by some deeper underlying sense of what this is all about?”

John the Baptist heralded a radical message—Repent! In other words, identify what needs fixing in your life, and take aim at it. Zero in on those things that you need to work on, in order to be properly prepared for the coming of Jesus into your life. His message is as potent and pertinent in the 21st century as it was for its initial hearers in the Middle East some two thousand years earlier. We, who undertake the external rituals, are asked bluntly, “What’s this all mean to you? What does the call to repentance entail, specifically?”

Reflection Questions

1) In what sorts of rituals or traditions to you partake each Advent? Do you light candles on a wreath? Open an Advent Calendar? What do these external gestures mean to you, in relation to the season of Advent itself and your attempt to prepare spiritually for the coming of Jesus at Christmas?

2) Do you feel like you ever are just “going through the motions” at Mass, or participating in something to do with your faith just because everyone else is doing it? Is there a connection between the rituals of your religious practice and your deeper-seated reli- gious beliefs? If not, should there be?

3) John the Baptist calls us to repentance as an explicit way to “Prepare the way of the Lord,” which many theologians have suggested to mean, “Preparing the way of the Lord (in our hearts).” What sorts of things might you need to address this Advent in order to prepare the way of the Lord?

1st Sunday of Advent - 28 November 2010 [Cycle A]

First Sunday of Advent [Cycle A] - November 28th, 2010

"Swords into Plowshares"

Swords are used to hurt people. That is the explicit purpose of their existence—to cause damage to another living being. A sword’s merits are evaluated upon criteria pertaining to that raison d’etre: its sharpness; how its weight and balance allow its user to thrust and strike with maximal force. Swords are necessary when people feel threatened or put on the defensive, and often times that same crippling sense of vulnerability leads people to go on the offensive preemptively, and to attack others.

Plowshares, that is, farm tools used to till the soil and prepare the earth for agriculture, are an object with a very different purpose. Made of the very same materials as swords, these instruments allow humans to produce food, to nourish their families and engage in constructive enterprise. Agriculture is a fundamentally life-giving type of activity. Swordsmanship is one that focuses on the most effective delivery of death. Swords exist to allow humans to destroy. Plowshares exist to permit humans to create new life.

In the ancient Middle Eastern society of which the Israelites lived, warfare between tribes was ubiquitous and unavoidable. Before modern agricultural practices allowed farmers to produce a surplus of food to support the community, it was incredibly difficult to reap enough produce from the land to stave off hunger and malnutrition. Such challenges were exacerbated in the desert lands of modern-day Egypt, Jordan, Iraq, and Israel, because water was so very scarce a commodity. In the face of prohibitive restrictions on natural resources like water, which was necessary not only for drinking but for irrigating the fields, and patches of vegetation that would allow sheep and cattle to graze, it was inevitable that various tribes would clash.

The tribes of ancient society were constantly on the defensive, always prepared for the next attack, or, conversely, seeking out new, better lands that they might come to occupy so as to give their own families the best chance of survival. Places that had sufficient access to water and vegetation; places that were elevated and easily defended. Swords had to be sharpened at all times; men prepared always to spring into action and defend their families from attack. So when Isaiah suggests that, on the Day of the Lord, the people would be able to beat their swords into plowshares, he is making an incredible claim: he is telling them that, no longer will they have to live in fear. No longer will they have to worry about being on the defensive and being prepared for the next battle. Beating swords into plowshares says that the constant threat of death is no more. All of the people’s energies could be poured into agriculture, that is, devoted to a fundamentally life-giving activity. With the weapons con- verted to farm tools and the men spending more time tilling the soil than learning the skills of swordsmanship, they would be able to produce more food. They would be able to spend more time with their families. To live in safety and peace—to flourish.

Obviously, this imagery has important meaning for our own day. The annual budget of the Pentagon is around $600 billion dollars. The cost of wars in Afghanistan and Iraq has topped $1 trillion. Imagine if all of those “swords,” were converted to “plowshares”—if the same resources we now commit to defending ourselves were put to the cultivation of life here at home. Funding better schools. Building more hospitals. Advancing medical research. There was only so much metal (the resource from which comes both swords and plowshares) to go around back then, and there is only so much money (the resource that funds education and military weaponry) in our own day. Imagine if Isaiah said to us today, “Melt down your tanks and build better highways. Defund the School of the Americas and bolster Teach for America.”

But the metaphor also bears import for us as individuals. Though the analogy is less literal, it is every bit as direct—we humans invest our psychological resources in “swords,” that help us ward off emotional attack from others. Perhaps we were ridiculed in school for our unique sense of style, and we develop the defense of “blind conformity” (or conversely come to loath whatever society deems “fashionable” and “hip”). Perhaps our intelligence caused us to be attacked at some point or another, and so we become arrogant and superior—or conversely, insecure and uncomfortable showing others our true talent for fear they will react with hostility. Maybe we have been criticized for our looks, or told we were not attractive, and so we develop defenses that help us cope with that threat of pain. Or we have gone through a painful breakup, and so we build up thick walls to keep others out and defend us against future hurt. The ancient Israelites sharpened their swords and thickened their walls to fend off attack from other tribes—many of us sharpen our sarcasm and thicken our emotional defenses to ward off the pain that can result from human relationships.

Isaiah’s words ring true for us on many levels—both communal and individual. What resources are we, as a nation, or you, as a person, investing in defense? What sorts of energies do we de- vote to keeping ourselves from harm, energies that could be invested in constructive, life-giving activities to help us flourish? The promise of Christ is that we will no longer need our swords. That our entire day can be devoted to bringing forth new life, whether it is plowing the fields or, for us, taking a pilates class; learning to play the guitar; trying the tango; or cultivating new friendships. The radical reality of Jesus is that accepting Him into our lives means we can beat our swords into plowshares. It requires an enormous leap of faith that, once this is done, we won’t ever need them again. It’s a risk, and a terrifying one. But it’s one made possible by faith. God says to us today: beat your swords into plowshares—I come to bring life, and death has no place in the Kingdom I am preparing for you.

Reflection Questions

1) What sorts of “swords” do you see us investing our current national or communal re- sources in? How are we motivated by fear, insecurity, and vulnerability to make sure our swords are sharpened and our readiness constant?

2) What types of plowshares might we create if we were converting our swords? What would the process of transformation look like?

3) What are some “swords” you have developed as defenses in your own life? What fears do you harbor? How are you on the defensive to protect yourself from hurt?

4) What would transformation of your own psychological “swords” into “plowshares” entail? Do you trust the promise of Jesus that your swords will no longer be needed?