Advent 3

“Blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me.” Isn’t that a bit odd? After all, Jesus is talking to John the Baptist – but if you remember, he’s also talking to his cousin. John’s mother Elizabeth was Mary’s cousin. John baptized Jesus in the Jordan river, and proclaimed the Messiah’s coming. But the end of Jesus’ declaration to his cousin’s disciple is defensive: “and blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me.”

We live in a bit of a backwards world – have you ever noticed that? It’s a world where nothing seems to work like it should. For every child born happy and whole, there are some who are not, or not born at all. For every dollar that is made at our jobs, someone loses theirs, loses their home, their livelihood. The bad things seem so often to outnumber the good.

And that’s not all, of course. If you pay close attention to the media, and to ‘experts’ on our young people, they are taught to think that the worst things that can happen to them in their lives are getting arrested, getting addicted to drugs, or getting pregnant. Do those three sound alike to you?

Marriages crumble because of ‘irreconcilable differences,’ or worse, toxic relationships continue out of fear – fear of being alone, of being ostracized by friends and family. Parents leave children because they need to ‘find themselves’.

If Jesus calls those who take no offense at him ‘blessed’, then one of two things happens: either we see that Christ is in all of us because we are all sinners; or we begin to see ourselves in Christ. So, instead of becoming images of Christ – knowing that when we feel the sting of the law it is because of Christ’s presence reacting to our own self-centeredness; in our minds Christ becomes the image of us.

And it works in religion, too. The fastest growing religious traditions are those of the Law – fundamentalist Islam, and fundamentalist Christianity. Even the New Atheists are as much about their own law as the worst fundamentalist. They’re all about who’s good enough, who can be ‘themselves’ while at the same time being judged by how correctly they believe in the doctrine of their religion – and believe me, beloved, Atheists are as strict about their own doctrine as the most acidic holy roller.

And why do they grow? Because people are more easily united by things at which they take offence than those upon which they agree. Because religions of the law are about being united against a common enemy – those who don’t keep your law – than they are about united by those things you hold in common.

That’s a basic tenant of human behaviour, I would argue. After all, what are Edmonton Eskimos fans without the Calgary Stampeders? What are the Roughriders without the Lions? What are Vulcans, if not for Romulans? (and I promise that will be my last Star Trek™ joke). What is the Tea Party, without Barak Obama?

There’s a website I used to visit that offered ideas and discussion on how to “keep Christ in Christmas”. When I first joined, it seemed like a good thing – just a way of sharing ideas on how Christian families could help our children understand Christmas in light of all the advertising that they see at this time of year.

But after a few months, a certain kind of person had taken over the site. You probably know the kind – they’re the ones who forward those emails to you with “God” and “Jesus” and “Christ” and “the Bible” in BIG capital letters – you know, those emails that are actually based on the old chain letters. You remember them: Someone sent this letter to fifteen people and won the lottery; someone threw it out and got warts. Except the religious ones use the kind of guilt that would make an Irish mother proud – IF you have faith, send it on…

So the messages on the website became more and more reactionary. When people began posting about how “that socialist Obama” was part of a conspiracy to destroy Christmas, it was time for me to go. Because instead of blessing others with the wonderful gift of Christ, they were using the Word of God as a weapon to cause offence.

John and Jesus represent two fundamentally different approaches to the same faith. John baptized Jesus; last week we heard John’s proclamation that the Messiah was coming, “and his winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will separate the wheat from the chaff; and the wheat he will gather into his granary and the chaff he will cast into unquenchable fire.” This was the Messiah that John expected: a great conqueror, a warrior king of the sort that some of the juiciest Old Testament passages are made.

John proclaimed and believed in a Messiah who was going to overthrow the Roman oppressor, bless those who believed in him and damn those who didn’t, with the added benefit of eternal punishment.

And what he got was Jesus.

John and Jesus lived largely separated lives. Each had their own disciples, and each carried out their own ministry in their own way. John had watched Jesus for a little bit; had seem the Holy Spirit descend upon Jesus in the form of a dove.

Yet when John’s steadfast and honest proclamation landed him in prison, he maybe wondered why. After all, he thought he knew who the Messiah was. But consider the text for today: “after he heard in prison what the Messiah was doing”. After hearing about what the Messiah was doing, John began to doubt. Because Jesus wasn’t being the Messiah John expected.

And Jesus’ own account of his actions probably didn’t do his case any good: “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”

Wait a minute! Who???? The blind, the lame, the lepers, the deaf, and the dead? It’s a good thing Jesus didn’t mention women, he’d have lost all respect! These are not the people John wants to hear about. He wants to hear about wheat and chaff, about kings and armies and power and might. He wants a messiah who is going to kick all things out of his way.

But Jesus doesn’t’ come as the saviour John expects; he comes and the saviour John needs. Because God doesn’t care about our expectations – God sees far more of us than our sinful selves are probably comfortable with.

I’ve come to the conclusion that there are three distinct approaches to Christianity in the world practiced by Christians themselves, no matter what denomination they are. The first are the “I did it my way,” Christians. While professing belief in Christ, their faith does not affect their lives, which they believe are lived well as long as they’re not hurting anyone. In a way, these people are ‘secular Christians’. They’re probably the majority of people.

But the other two are a bit more complicated. The second group are John the Baptist Christians. They want the Messiah they expect, and will do anything to get it. To them, the Messiah is about kingship, about power, and how they can get it and use it.

And the other group are Mary Christians. They are the Christians who, when confronted with the reality of God in their lives, don’t a) ignore it, or b) exploit it, but choose instead to praise God and be an instrument of the will of God in the world. They are the people who say “my soul proclaims your greatness,” instead of “your winnowing fork is in your hand.”

Maybe that’s why the early church venerated Mary, and why Christianity has continued to do so down through the ages. There’s something special about this young woman. She’s not divine, but nor is she just some chick God picked up one night. Mary seems to know that first and foremost, her relationship with God is about God’s love for her, not the other way around. Her heart sings her praises to God, because that is what God desires from us. Not our behaviour, not our judgement, not our power.

God became incarnate in the world, not to show us what it meant to be divine, but so that we would know what it was to be truly human. Thus the Messiah came restoring relationships, healing the brokenhearted, and letting creation know that God had not abandoned it. But rather that God loved it, and loved God’s people, and loved so fiercely that not even death could separate God’s children from God’s presence.

And it is in that love today that we celebrate the baptism of Jessica Jaelynn Gehlert. Today, she’s baptized not because of fear, but because of love. Today, she joins us in waiting for the Messiah, the Christ who comes into our midst. Today, God so loves the world that he will welcome Jessica into the family of God – not because of who she is or what she has done; but solely because of who Jesus is, and what the Messiah has done.

Let the people of God say amen.