Monday, January 24, 2011

Sermon: Epiphany 3


       Matthew 4:12-23                             

At the height of the Second World War, people living in western Europe knew what it meant to sit and wait in the darkness. Back in those days, the aircrafts which dropped bombs on cities filled with people didn’t possess the sophisticated  locating devises they do today. Keeping the lights off , and waiting in darkness was the only means of defence against the terror from above.  There are people alive today on both sides of the conflict who can tell you about that experience of waiting, and hoping that the bombs would miss their homes. This is the experience of quite literally living, sitting, in terrifying darkness. How those hearts yearned for some light! But that kind of darkness has not disappeared with the Second World War. The darkness of uncertainty continues to hang over populations and individuals, people waiting and hoping in the dark--people waiting for the results of medical tests, or waiting for organ transplants,  or a new treatment. People waiting to hear the news about a missing relative, people waiting for the day when they no longer have to hope. Then there are those who move in the darkness without even knowing that they are in the dark. In the depth of their being they  may know that something is wrong, they long for the light, but the light they seek is a deceptive one, leading them down the path of consumerism, materialism, and even addiction.
            But the experience of sitting in darkness isn’t a new one.
            The people of Israel, knew about the darkness. They, too, sat, in darkness, they too, hoped for a better day. Four hundred years before Jesus came into the world as a human being they would have to endure the darkness of exile and captivity under the Babylonians. When Jesus came into the world as a human being, they lived in the darkness of Roman occupation. Oh how they longed and hoped for the day that God’s light would shine into their lives, how they hoped that God’s promise to them would be fulfilled.
How many people today are hoping for something big to change their lives? Hoping, a big  spectacular ray of light  that would shine in through the window and make everything better. Lottery tickets sell by the millions precisely for that reason. If  we were to take a poll asking people what the best possible thing is which could happen to them, winning the lottery would probably top the list. Why? Because with all that money comes the power to purchase, the power to change, the power to turn it all around—or so people think. But the people of Israel were not so much hoping for a lottery win. They were more like lottery winners waiting for the payout—the day when God would make all things right, when light would shine strong and perpetually.
            The people of Israel were waiting for the day when the words of the great prophet Isaiah we read today would be fulfilled. And that prophecy was fulfilled, on that first Christmas day,   when the light came into the world.  And Isaiah tells us exactly where that would happen—it would be in Galilee. All things considered this was the most unlikely place for the Messiah to make his entrance into the world. The entrance point would not be the great temple in Jerusalem, it would not be in the capital city. Rather it would be on the periphery—it was on the periphery of Jewish life and society where Jesus would be born.  It was on the periphery where Jesus would begin his ministry.
And Jesus would begin his ministry with a great proclamation:
“ Repent for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.”
            The kingdom of heaven. This is a very powerful idea.  When most people think of heaven, they tend to think of the place people go to after death, a place not of this world, a perfect place where the barrier between God and humanity does not exist, where there is no death or suffering, where there is eternal peace. Yes, this certainly encapsulates the idea of heaven. But if we see heaven only as a place where people go after they die, we miss the full  thrust of Jesus’ proclamation. When Jesus proclaimed that the kingdom of heaven was at hand, he didn’t only mean that the kingdom of heaven in its fullness was coming, he also meant that the kingdom of heaven in its fullness had arrived, that it was here, that God’s eternal kingdom had come into the world. But where was it? How could it be seen? How could people find it and get to it?
As the story unfolded, the kingdom of heaven would be wherever Jesus was, doing what he did. And what he did was bring light into the world. What he did was push back the darkness. What he did was bring life where the world saw only death. What he did was bring healing and hope, where the world saw only sickness and hopelessness. In other words the kingdom of heaven would be unlike any kingdom in the world, which were easily definable by geography. The kingdom of heaven would not be defined by a geographical location, but by a way of being, a new way of being. This way of being was the way which God had intended for humanity from the beginning-- but humanity chose otherwise. Humanity chose to walk and dwell in darkness, and see only darkness.
So this region of Galilee, which was on the outskirts, the periphery, shrouded in darkness, became the centre, the centre of God’s activity in the world.  Where Jesus was the kingdom was, where Jesus is the kingdom is. Wherever there is truth, justice, and compassion there is Jesus and there is the kingdom. His kingdom is not a visible kingdom recognizable by the world, but his kingdom, hidden to the world’s eyes, is more powerful than any kingdom the world has ever seen. 
There is much talk about the decline of the Christian church in the western world, and the incredible growth of the church in the so-called third world has been noticed. What was once the periphery appears to be becoming the centre and vice versa. And looking at the situation of the church in the western world, this city stands very much on the periphery. This part of the city, especially, is acknowledged as having the lowest church attendance rate on the entire continent. We are standing on the edge, we are standing on the periphery. Well what does that mean? Does that mean that God is less present here than he is in one of the mega-churches in the Fraser Valley? Does that mean that the work of the kingdom is being carried out more and better at Willington Church in Burnaby?
No. What it means is that we stand on the periphery, but remember: Where Jesus wa,s the kingdom was, where Jesus is, the kingdom is.  Where the Living Word is proclaimed, Christ is transforming hearts and minds. Where Christ is proclaimed, light shines into the darkness. The Kingdom of Heaven is here, the kingdom of heaven is alive and active on the corner of 31st and Collingwood. Yes it is true people drive by the church building every day without noticing it. Yes it is true, people will walk by this congregation every day without ever joining it. Yes it is true that many people living in this area are not particularly interested in attending Dunbar Lutheran Church.  Yes, indeed, this part of the city, this part of the neighbourhood, this corner seems the most unlikely place for God’s kingdom work to be taking place. But taking place it is.
And you who hear the Living Word are being called to work for the kingdom.  Jesus has called us to become fishers of people.  Jesus has called us into his work of ministry. “Well I’m not qualified for that”, you might be thinking.  But just consider who Jesus called as his first disciples. Did he call the best and brightest? Did he call the most educated Rabbis? Did he call the most influential members of society? No, he didn’t. He called fishermen—he called fishermen to help him in his work of expanding his peaceable kingdom, to help him transform minds and change hearts, to make a significant and lasting difference in the lives of others. This is what kingdom building is  all about.
People need to hear the Word of promise. People hunger for meaning in the depths of their souls. People hunger for wholeness and healing. People are looking for a new way of being.  And we, those who confess Christ, have been entrusted with giving them the answer, in spoken word and visible action.  We, as imperfect as we are, have been entrusted with proclaiming the answer.
“Repent. The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” These were the words of Jesus. These are the words of Jesus. Notice that this proclamation begins with that word, the R word, which our natural ears do not want to hear. But  Jesus’ call to repentence is a wake up call, a wake up call to those who dwell in the darkness, and are totally unaware of it. It is also a call to those parts of us, each and every one of us, which work against the kingdom in one way or another. But let us be clear. The call to repentance is not  a moralistic admonition, or a divine finger point. The call to repent is call to turn away from orientations and attitudes which have no place in the kingdom. It is a sharp reminder that our ways are not God’s ways, that left to our own devices it is the natural human tendency to work against the building of God’s kingdom. Greed, avarice, hatred, lust—all of these have no place in God’s kingdom, that these are the ways of the one whose ministry is of darkness, who loves the darkness, who would have all people dwell in the darkness. So Jesus calls us back, calls us back to  the truth.
The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. In the final days the kingdom of heaven will be plainly visible to the eyes of all. Right now it is hidden, but it is here, and it is ruled over the one who brought real and everlasting light into the world.
So we continue our celebration of ephiphany, the moment when humanity’s greatest dream was realized, when true and ultimate light shone into the world. Now may the Light of God’s Kingdom shine brightly in your hearts, so that you too would share the good News of the Kingdom of Heaven. Amen.