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Celebrating The Christian Adventure
 

"Meet Me Halfway"
Preached on December 9, 2001
by
The Reverend Dr. Robert A. Colman
Text: Matthew 3:1-12
Isaiah 11:1-10



Every summer, on a vacant lot a few blocks south of the church I served in Oklahoma City, a tent would go up in which a crusade would be held over several weeks to, quote, "save souls."

One evening, leaving my church study late, I was drawn by the sounds of gospel singing to walk the few blocks south and enter the tent, and in true Presbyterian fashion, take a seat in the back row to listen and observe.

The preacher that night called up the memory of John the Baptist as he shouted to the gathered crowd, "Repent for the Kingdom of God is at hand."  He then proceeded to preach a classic "hell, fire, and brimstone" sermon designed to, at the very least, stir and unsettle the emotions of those gathered and elicit an affirmative response to the altar call with which he would conclude his words.  Many were going forward as I slipped out of the tent as unobtrusively as I had entered.

As I walked the few blocks North to where my car was parked, I was clearly glad that I had taken the time to experience the unique flavor of that tent meeting (and it would not be the last time), but I was also sad because a word, repent, with which I had struggled over many years - alone, with friends, with colleagues, with members of the churches I served in order to fully understand and experience and which I had come to understand as a profound invitation and challenge from God to begin to live life to its fullest, was once again not expressed as such but as an angry and threatening demand "Repent, or else."

When I say the word, repent, what images dance in your head?  What meaning does it hold for you?  Repent.  What emotions spring forth from your heart?  Repent.

Wendi Wright, to whom, both as a person and writer, I am indebted for the direction this sermon has taken, suggests, "repentance consists not so much of flagellating ourselves over our "failures" as in courageously and painstakingly reorienting our priorities, unlearning old patterns, turning our faces, like the sunflower, toward the dawning of the light of God."

There is no doubt in my mind that on that night in Oklahoma City, that that itinerant preacher succeeded in scaring some people - even made me a tad nervous at times, but, in doing so, did he not miss the greater opportunity - to tell those of us gathered in that tent that "God loves you!"  (The word love was not mentioned once when I was present); that God has, is, and always will love you, and thus has, is, and always will be coming (advent) to you to tell you so.  All God is really asking of us is to, "meet me halfway"; be open to the possibility that if you turn around (the literal meaning of repent) you just might find me your God to have been standing right behind us all the time.  And if in case you turn around and don't see me, wait, wait, wait, for is it not "they who wait for the Lord who shall renew their strength, mount up with wings like eagles, run and not be weary, walk and not faint"?  "I assure you, even though you may not see me, or even sense me, I am close by and drawing ever closer."

Wright wrote, "Repentance is not necessarily the gloomy and self-loathing practice it is sometimes made out to be.  To repent is not to be confirmed in what the little voice within keeps whispering: that you are no good, that everything bad that happens to you is your own fault, that if only others knew what you were really like, they would cease to care for and be interested in you.  No.  True repentance begins with the felt knowledge that we are loved by God.  We are children of God."

So on this second Sunday of the season of Advent on which we hear the words once again, "Repent for the Kingdom of God is at hand," hear them not as a threat but a promise, not as a demand but as an invitation, an invitation to begin preparing ourselves for the coming of God and all the surprises which accompany God's comings - prepare ourselves by engaging in some thoughtful and prayerful self-reflection, as persons and a community, on the content, quality, and style of our life and asking ourselves such heart questions as, "do we really believe (not simply mind assent to a proposition but heart receptive to a reality) that God is really present in your, my, our lives as an intimate, dynamic, active presence working God's own purposes and longings out with us and for us.  Is God's presence a factor in the decisions and choices and actions we make and take every day?  What is God's desire for me, for you, for us?  And when God comes, what will God ask of us?  Perhaps God might come and suggest to us that there are some readjustments we need to make in our understandings, perspectives, practices, and priorities of life if we are to more fully reflect who we are as the persons and community God created us to be and better reflect, in and through our lives, in our relationships and responsibilities with others, God's love, peace, and justice?

On Jordan's bank the Baptist cry
Announces that the Lord is nigh.

Awake and hearken, for he brings

Glad tidings of the King of Kings

Then cleansed be every heart from sin

Make straight the way for God within

And let each heart prepare a home

Where such a mighty guest may come.

Advent's message is clear.  God is coming, but if we truly want to experience God when God arrives, do we not at least have to try to meet God halfway - repenting, turning ourselves around so that we are moving towards God as God moves towards us?  And do we not need to be looking for God to come in the most unexpected, surprising, even unwanted, ways and places - in the face of a malnourished child, a homeless friend, a widowed mother, divorced father, a frightened prisoner of war, a trembling unemployed worker, a beggar's rattling Dixie cup plea, and yes, even in our own restlessness, anxieties,  fears of heart, - in that mirror dimly but a mirror nonetheless hinting at what it might mean to see God face to face and thus see ourselves as God sees us; do we not at least have to try to keep our hearts open to receive God when God comes, open our hearts, not as a precondition to God's coming to us but simply as a preparation - for be assured God comes to you even when your back is turned and you refuse to turn around because this very God of very God, this very light of very light, this word made flesh and dwelling among us, this "hound of heaven" will never stop teasingly and tenderly nipping at your heels  to get your attention and hopefully cause you to turn around, if only slightly, to see who's there and realize it's God and God is telling you, "You see, I love you!  I really do!"  Do we not have to try to meet God halfway by opening and preparing our hearts for all the internal and external implications of God's comings?

In Luke's telling of the story of the beginnings of John the Baptist's ministry, the crowds, responding to John's call to repent, ask, "What should we do?"  He does not tell them to feel bad, have guilt, beat your chests and cry, "mea culpa, mea culpa".  No!  He clearly and simply says, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise, and so on."

On the most personal and internal level, repenting is about the willingness to be still and know that
God is God and in that knowledge (heart not simply head) to know oneself as one given the sight and wisdom to see those things in one's own life that may be keeping you from not only experiencing the fullness of God and life but also doing so in loving and sharing relationships and communities.

On the external and communal level repenting is about, on the one hand, continuing to respond to God's call to care for the poor, the lame, the weak, the outcast, the "least of these" and, on the other hand, continuing to ask as a community the why, how, and wherefore questions of what are the social, political, and economic conditions that create and sustain such realities as poverty, war, inequality, injustice, and honestly examining our own lives and lifestyles as to any complicity on our part in perpetuating such realities either by sins of commission or omission.   At the same time we need to be trying to discern how God may be wanting us to help God transform these realities into new ones.

The advent of God clearly has the potential, if we meet God halfway, to transform our personal lives but it also has the potential to challenge us in our corporate life together to renew our faith commitment to the doing of justice, the loving of mercy, and the walking humbly with our God; for translating God's dreams, so wondrously expressed by the prophet, Isaiah, into realities, and not off there somewhere in the future but right here and now.

"Repent for the Kingdom of God is at hand."  Are you ready for that?  As I ask you that question, the lingering image in my head is not that of myself as an itinerant preacher demanding that you repent, but as a child playing with you in the backyard and with a childlike lightness of heart, asking you to repent and sensing your hesitation, say, "I dare you!" and then, "I double-dare you!" and all the time I'm smiling because I know who you'll see when you turn around.
Amen.