“Prepare the Way: Prayers into Action”

Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

First Congregational UCC, Manhattan, KS

December 6, 2015

Sermon Text: Luke 3:1-6

Another week, another shooting. More than one, actually. The world continues to be beset by violence. Politicians continue to wring their hands and tweet their prayers. Nothing much seems to change.

Three years ago on a Sunday in Advent, Christians gathered on a Sunday morning just after the massacre at Sandy Hook. Pastors attempted to grapple with the seemingly-impossible task of reconciling a week dedicated to Joy with the incomprehensible evil unleashed earlier that same week.

Another year, another attempt to do something similar. How can we have the audacity to gather here and speak of Peace in the midst of so much violence?

On the other hand, how can we do anything else?

Last Sunday we spoke of Hope. On Tuesday night, we gathered with 30-some people from the wider community in Pioneer Hall. As we sat in that room, built by people who traveled across this continent to seek freedom for enslaved Americans, the spirit of hope was strong. We shared names of those who have died from AIDS-related complications or who are currently living with HIV and AIDS. And we sang the words of a hymn was perfect for that evening and takes on new meaning once-again this morning, “Let us hope when hope seems hopeless, when the dreams we dream have died.”

When our dreams are on the verge of death, when hope is elusive, that’s when we have to gather, once again, to cry out to our God, to offer each other words of encouragement, and to light a candle in the darkness. It is the time to listen closely to the voices of prophets – those in the past and those living still.

The Prophet Isaiah: “The people who are walking in darkness will see a great light.”

The Gospel of John: “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.”

Jesus: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

When the world grows dark and fear presses in on all sides, we who follow the one who is called “Light of the World.” We light candles for Hope. Candles for Peace.

But we do more than light candles and pray. We are called to action.

Today’s text from Luke is one of those calls to action: “John the Baptizer went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” Crying out: “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.”

John didn’t say, “Pray for peace.” John said, “Make peace.” And, yes, we can get into semantics about prayer being action and action being prayer. I do believe prayer is absolutely vital for any person of faith. It is what keeps us grounded and sustained for the work. It's where we begin. But if we’re using a narrow definition of prayer as “talking to God” then prayer is simply not enough. I do not experience God as some magic unicorn in the sky who listens in to all our prayers and then selectively decides where to intervene.

Prayer has to be more than talking or listening to God. Those are both important things, but we are also called to much more. John says we are to prepare the way for God. And not in some loosey-goosey, wishy-washy kind of way. Nope. We don’t get off that easy.

John tell us we have to move mountains! We have to carve out new highways for God. We have to bring in truckload after truckload of fresh fill dirt to bring the low places up. We have to chip away relentlessly at the mountains that stand in the way of justice until the mountains themselves are brought low. We have to bend and bend that arc of justice until the crooked paths are brought into alignment. We have to scratch and buff and shine and polish until all of the rough parts of this Earth are made smooth.

Please note that John does not say God will be doing all of these things without our help. John says it is our work to do together. We are called to work in sweet and holy partnership with our God. We do not do this work alone.

It’s an intimate and never-ending dance between God and her holy creation. Each of us, it seems to me, is imbued with the Holy God of Love. We are created in God’s image and that spark of the Divine will never leave us – no matter what we do. God is in each and every person – even the ones we don’t much like, even the ones that are outcasts, even in you and me.

But God is also somehow beyond all of that. If you were to somehow round up every human on the planet and put them in one room and say, “Now that all the humans are here, have we captured God?” I think the answer would be no. God is not some dude in the sky, but God is also – it seems to me – more than just the sum of our parts. Don’t ask me to explain it. I don’t understand it fully. But I experience God in each human I encounter and I experience that God is somehow more and beyond humanity.

So when the New York Post screams, “God isn’t fixing this!” they seem to be sort of right and sort of wrong. I don’t think God is swooping down from the heavens to fix everything that’s wrong with our world. If God could do that, she has some pretty serious explaining to do about why she hasn’t done so yet because violence is nothing new.

But I also think it’s entirely appropriate to call upon God as we humans figure out what the heck we’re going to do to bring peace to our world. As we pray with our feet and our hands and our hearts and our voices, we rely on God to support, sustain, and inspire us. We find God in the words of our Holy Scriptures, the stories we share with one another. We find God on the breath of the breeze and in the infinite complexity of a snowflake. We find God in the smile of a stranger and the laughter of a child. We find God in the heart of those we call beloved and within ourselves.

We cling to that small light in the darkness and hold it up, shining brightly, brilliantly in protest against violence, fear, hatred, and everything else that threatens God’s Holy Peace.

It’s a joint venture. We need God. God needs us. We cannot separate ourselves one from another. It’s both-and. We do not do it alone and God cannot do it without us.

As the days grow shorter and the darkness closes in, we await, once again, the coming of Christ. In ways I don’t fully understand, God seems to have come into the darkness of the world in the form of a tiny infant, born to unwed parents who had no place warm to stay. That young child spent his formative years as a refugee. And as he grew into an adult, his cousin John urged his followers to prepare the way for God to be born anew, once again into their midst.

And so we who find meaning in following Jesus gather, once again, to await Christ’s coming. We wait in Hope. We pray for Peace. We look expectantly for Joy. We seek to reform our very lives in the spirit of Love.

Come to us, O Holy One. Show us your ways of peace. Inspire us to action. Sustain us when we are weary. Be with us now. Amen.