Restoration Work

This was originally preached on December 14, 2008. There has been some updating.

I promise this will not be another sermon about Doctor Who. But in order to set the stage for today's topic, which is why Advent is a penitential season and how today's scriptures fit in, I want to briefly revisit the new version of the world's oldest science fiction show. In my earlier sermon, I spoke of how the Doctor is explicitly being treated as a messianic figure. He is the one “who makes people better,” a positive and healing hero. But one aspect I did not deal with is the new Doctor's other side. The oppressed may hail and love him but the oppressors hate and fear him. His archenemies, the Daleks, call him “the Bringer of Darkness,” “the Destroyer of Worlds,” and “the “Oncoming Storm.” The Doctor is merciful but not to the merciless. And in a very theologically-rooted 2-part adventure, written by Paul Cornell whose wife is an Anglican priest, the Doctor encounters a family of predatory aliens who decimate a boys' school. The eternal fates he arranges for them are both just and terrible. The coming of the Doctor is good news for those who are suffering but very bad news for those who cause the suffering.

In a similar way, the coming of Christ is good news for those who want to be saved but not for those who have a stake in keeping things in this unjust world as they are. And since we are all sinners and we all knowingly do things we know aren't right, Jesus' advent should make us a little uncomfortable. In fact, if you substitute his name for another in what is already the most disturbing Christmas song I know, you get a sense of what Advent is about: “You better watch out; you'd better not cry; you'd better not pout; I'm telling you why—Jesus Christ is coming to town. He's making a list and checking it twice; gonna find out who's naughty and nice. Jesus Christ is coming to town. He sees you when you're sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows when you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness' sake!”

Advent says, “Jesus is coming! And he's really ticked off about all the evil that plagues this world he created—evils that his own creatures have perpetrated and perpetuated.” That's why Advent is penitential. We are to look at ourselves and how complacent and complicit we are in regards to the world's problems. We acknowledge how we have fallen short of what God expects of us. And we ask for the help of the Holy Spirit in restoring our lives. Basically, we are cleaning ourselves up for the coming of Jesus.

But you will notice a different tone in the readings of today's lectionary. They focus not on the stick, so to speak, but the carrot, or, more accurately, the goal of our journey with Jesus: the healing of this sick world.

It starts with the stirring passage from Isaiah that Jesus read at the beginning of his ministry: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to preach good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor...”

It sounds as if the prophet is talking about the Jubilee year. (Leviticus 25) Every 7 years Israelites were to leave their land fallow, so that they wouldn't deplete its fertility. And every 50 years (7 Sabbatical years, plus 1) all debts were to be cancelled, all debt slaves were freed and all lands were returned to their original families. It may sound foreign to us because of our western tradition of private land ownership, but the premise in Biblical times is that the land belonged not to the Israelites but to God. (Leviticus 25:23) So God could reshuffle the stewardship of his land. Obviously the Jubilee year was a very good thing for those who had lost their financial footing. The Jubilee gave families a fresh start, restoring their position in the agricultural community.

The passage in Isaiah goes on to talk of comforting those who mourn, of planting and of repairing cities. The immediate context was the Jews returning from exile in Babylon. When they returned to the promised land, they would have to revive their country. This would involve planting crops, rebuilding their cities and comforting those who would be stunned upon seeing how dilapidated Judea was after 70 years of neglect. God promises blessings. The imagery used is that of a man or woman decked out on their wedding day. (v.10) The simile then switches to that of spring and of a garden flowering. (v.11) Both pictures are those of beauty and joy and a bountiful future.

The theme continues in Psalm126. “When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion, we were like those in a dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy.” Another image is presented, that of the wadi or creek beds found in the southern desert of the Negev. During the summer, they are dry. But in the rainy season, they fill and overflow and bring life to the desert.This is followed by a different kind of water imagery. “Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.” The hard work of replanting to sustain the returning populace will be rewarded with abundance. It is almost as if the psalmist is saying the seeds will be watered with the tears of the people. God is able to transmute the very elements of sorrow into joy.

The Magnificat can be used in place of the psalm. The song of Mary, the mother of Jesus, speaks of a God who turns the usual order of things upside down. He has chosen a humble servant to bear his son. In a similar way, “he has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has lifted up the lowly.” He has “filled the hungry with good things and the rich he has sent away empty.” God is redressing the inequities of the world, helping those who need his help and rely on him. And the prime example of this is Jesus, who healed those who put their trust in him.

Too often we forget what the whole enterprise of God is about. It's not about the end of the world or escaping hell or sitting about playing harps. It's about restoration—restoring people's freedom, their livelihood, their faith, their hope, their joy. It's about restoring his creation, which he pronounced good. It's about restoring relationships—with ourselves, with each other and with him.

Restoration can mean pain. I saw a documentary about a child whose face was covered by an enormous tumor. She couldn't see, and breathing was difficult. It took several operations for the surgeon to reduce the mass and make the child look normal. The doctor had to remove many pounds of flesh from her face. The hospitalizations were rough on the child. The recovery was hard. But the results were astonishing. She could see again. She could breathe freely. She was no longer stared at and pointed at in public. The pain was worth the cure.

On the other hand, I had a friend who ignored a mole that grew and changed color. A coworker and I urged her to see a doctor. But she was afraid of needles and scalpels. She lied to us and said a doctor was treating it, when she was really just scraping at it herself and covering it with a dressing. The skin cancer metastasized to her brain. First it crippled her with a stroke and then, in just a month, it killed her. But before she died she recorded a PSA for the radio station where we worked, urging others to not let their fears lull them into a lethal neglect of getting help.

Our fears can be fatal. They can blind us to our need for God. We are afraid of what he will do to us and how we will have to change. We are afraid of what he will demand of us. We can't see beyond the pain and the tears. But they are just stages in the process of restoring us to spiritual health. God wants to remove the burden of our sins, restore our sight, let the fresh air of the Spirit in, and restore us to the beauty he intended us to have. But he can't do it if we don't let him.

When I quoted Isaiah earlier, I did what Jesus did: stopped on a hopeful note. The passage goes on from “to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor” to “and the day of vengeance of our God.” Only we can determine which kind of day it will be for us. Are we a healthy part of the body of Christ or a malignant growth that must be removed? Are we part of the problem or part of God's solution?

One thing we can do is take back the holiday that the season of Advent leads up to. Christmas has been changed from a celebration of God's gift to us of Jesus into an orgy of accumulating more stuff. You may have heard of a movement called Redefining Christmas. The idea is simple. Instead of racking your brains, trying to come up with some new gadgets to give to family and friends that they don't already have, you give to charities in their names. The choice of charities is huge. In the name of an animal lover you could give to an animal rescue organization. In the name of someone with a passion for justice, you could give to a human rights organization. In the name of someone who is compassionate, you could give to an organization that provides disaster relief, or one that helps disabled children, or one that fights a disease. For someone who loves beauty there are arts organizations. There are also groups involved in education or women's issues or helping refugees or veterans or prisoners.

Jesus is coming. That can be good news or bad news, depending on whether or not you acknowledge both your and the world's need for him. But in the meantime, we need not just sit on our hands, waiting. We can be like John the baptizer, spreading the news, encouraging people to start preparing the way of the Lord, laying the groundwork for the kingdom of God. (Luke 3:10-14) We needn't be the Messiah to do his work. Nor need we do it alone. We can join with others to do great things. And know that wherever 2 or 3 gather in his name, there he is in our midst. (Matthew 18:20) That's why we are called the body of Christ. (1 Corinthians 12:27)

In Advent we remember that Jesus exists in the past, the present and the future. Jesus came at Christmas to start his work. Jesus is coming again to complete his work. But in the meantime our priority is that Jesus is here now, working in us. Look around you. There's a lot that needs restoring. What are we waiting for?