More to Unwrap
Commentary
From time to time, my wife and I have held back some Christmas gift or another until all the others have been opened. Because of its size or its shape, we have decided not to put it under the tree with all of the other presents, lest it be conspicuous and a distraction from the other gifts. And so, we hide it away in some closet, and then bring it out at the very end.
This has, we’ve discovered, a doubly cheerful effect. There is, of course, the excitement that comes with any big or special gift. And then there is the additional loveliness of the happy surprise. Children who thought that the presents were all gone are delighted to see that there's still more!
Christmas is filled with anticipation for children, of course. I expect most of us remember the eager countdowns, the irresistible sight of the wrapped gifts under the tree, the challenge of falling asleep on Christmas Eve, and the enthusiastic hopping out of bed early on Christmas morning. Christmas is filled with excited anticipation for children.
In contrast to that excitement, of course, there is the possible feeling of letdown once the presents have all been opened. That's not to say that the presents themselves were disappointing, but only a recognition of the sadness that comes when a much-anticipated event is past. The festive pile of colorful and neatly wrapped presents has given way to a more stark sight of a tree with nothing under it but random scraps of wrapping paper and discarded ribbons. To introduce into such a scene an additional, surprise present, therefore, makes the kids’ eyes light up again!
We have a profound version of that that we get to preach this week. We get to tell the people in our views that there is still more to come. Indeed, the best is yet to come!
All of the sights and sounds around us are oriented toward Christmas. And still, beneath the festive songs about reindeer, snowmen, Santa, sentiment, and romance, Christmas is about Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem. Yet our people recognize that that was long ago. That is not something we are waiting for — it has already happened. In that sense, we are a bit like the children after all of the presents have been unwrapped. The real Christmas is behind us not ahead of us, and so we may lack a sense of excitement and anticipation.
And so, in the spirit of Advent, we get to roll out for our people the good news that there is another gift! Actually, quite a few more gifts! For the things that God gave and did at the first Christmas do not exhaust the gifts and good things that he has in store. And so, this week’s selected passages invite us to see, to reflect on, and to be excited about what remains to be unwrapped in the future.
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Our gospel lection for this week is not taken from the episode where Jesus returns to the synagogue in Nazareth (see Luke 4:16-30). Still, it would be a certain sort of homiletical negligence to share this Old Testament passage without acknowledging the special role that it played in the life of Jesus. And, dare we say, more than just the significant role in his life, but in his self-understanding. For there in Nazareth he quoted the beginning of this passage and then declared that it had been fulfilled in the people’s hearing. Consequently, even though it is our Old Testament lection, it is with good warrant that we take this passage to be about Jesus.
As we are very much in the midst of the Advent season, we expect to be thinking about Jesus. And, more specifically, we expect to be thinking about his coming and his mission. For what reason did he come that first time? And what remains of his mission to be accomplished in his Second Coming? Surely this prophetic word from Isaiah offers insight into both.
The passage is rich, both literarily and theologically. In the former case, there is such potent poetry and evocative imagery. There are both inner-textual and intertextual connections to be explored and mined. And then, at the theological level, the implications of this passage are almost without limit. With so broad and deep a passage, therefore, our only realistic choice is to pick one element and try to do right by it. And the specific element I would choose is this: What does the will of God reveal about the heart of God?
So much of this passage, you see, is an expression of what the Lord intends to do. That reveals his will. To know his will is to get a glimpse into his heart. And that glimpse is the profound beauty of Isaiah 61.
We observe, first, that the Lord anoints some emissary to accomplish his purpose. And when we see what that purpose is, we recognize that the anointing of the emissary is rather like dispatching an ambulance or a fire truck. It is merciful rescue. The Lord is not content that this world should simply burn down, even though the fire is mostly of our own making.
We observe, second, that the mission is primarily a message. We see verbs like “bring good news,” “proclaim,” and “comfort,” and we recognize that this is a word from the Lord. And a word from the Lord is a powerful business.
We also observe the pattern of reversals. These people or those who have been in some trouble, difficulty, or misfortune are promised relief, a turning of the tables. And this, we know, is very much the spirit of redemption and biblical eschatology. That is to say, the Lord promises that he will, in the day of the Lord, come in to make right all that is wrong.
Finally, we observe that the heart of this passage and of God’s mission is good news. That phrase is introduced early on, and that tone pervades the entire reading. But then, how could it be otherwise? If God is love, as the Apostle John declares, then of course to peek behind the curtain at his will is to see all sorts of goodness.
We will give more consideration below to the role of Jesus in this Old Testament passage. For now, it is sufficient to say that hundreds of years before Jesus was born in Bethlehem, God had revealed the goodness of his will, his purpose, and his plan. And during these weeks of Advent, we celebrate that Jesus came — and is coming again — to be the agent of that good purpose and plan of God.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
Goodbyes between loved ones often have a staccato quality to them. The conversation while together can feature lengthy discourses on one thing and another. When it comes time to say goodbye, however, there is a natural urgency to say all the other things that need to be said before time runs out. They may be unrelated to each other, and each one might have deserved lengthier treatment if they had come up earlier. As it is, though, we are left to hurry through the things that remain to be said.
If we will see each other again soon, of course, then there is somewhat less urgency to say it all. But as I reflect on the sort of goodbyes that we say to family members who visit from out of town, loved ones we don’t see routinely, I observe this pattern. Our goodbyes try to cover a lot of territory quickly.
So it is, too, with the letters of Paul. Contact between the apostle and the churches he loved was not easy or frequent. They seldom saw one another in person, and written communication was not nearly so take-it-for-granted as it is in our day. A letter was a precious thing, therefore; special and rare.
During the bodies of his epistles, Paul is free to spend time and space on the different subjects that are the priorities in each case. When it comes time to say goodbye, however, we sense in him a hurried quality as he issues quick, one-sentence reminders and instructions, greetings and admonitions. And this is the sort of material we have in our assigned New Testament lection.
The passage features eight Greek verbs in the imperative, and each one might deserve a sermon-length consideration all its own. Personally, I am filing this away as a possible summer sermon series. For the present treatment, however, we shall have to settle for broad observations.
First, it is worth noting what comes first and what comes last. Paul begins with “rejoice always” and ends with the exhortation to abstain from every sort of evil. How many joyless Christians through the ages have gotten that backwards? How many have placed the accent of the Christian life entirely on the syllable of avoiding evil, while rejoicing little or not at all? We will give more detailed thought to this first of the imperatives below.
Meanwhile, we also observe the comprehensiveness of Paul’s instructions. Not necessarily comprehensive in the sense of covering every possible subject, but comprehensive in the scope of each imperative. When do we rejoice? Always. When do we pray? Always. In what do we give thanks? In everything. What do we carefully examine? Everything. And from what evil shall we abstain? Every form of evil.
This Christian life is no part-time job. We don’t punch in and punch out. And this should come as no surprise to us inasmuch as we have been referring to it as the “Christian life.” For if it truly is going to be a Christian life, then it needs to be as 24/7 as life is. Otherwise, let’s stop calling it our “Christian life” and call it our “Christian hobby” or our “Christian avocation.”
Finally, we might also observe that Paul’s quick-hit instructions and reminders are theologically comprehensive. We see, for example, that they are altogether Trinitarian. Also, in addition to instructions that obviously pertain to our relationship with God, there are instructions that certainly imply our relationship to the world. And every one of the eight imperatives implies our relationship to one another, for they are all rendered in the second-person plural.
John 1:6-8, 19-28
Our assigned gospel reading provides a good opportunity for us to clarify for our people the spirit of Advent. In the middle of December, they are surrounded everywhere else by the sights and sounds of the Christmas season. The larger culture doesn’t have much sense for Advent — except, perhaps, for the countdown of the number of shopping days before Christmas. In any case, the expectation might be to hear a reading from the first chapters of Matthew or the early chapters of Luke. Magi, wise men, stars and angels are the characters and stories folks have on their minds. John the Baptist, however, seems out of place at Christmas.
And indeed, he is — unless we’re reading his birth narrative in Luke 1. But while the testimony of John the Baptist may not be a natural part of the Christmas season, it is just right for Advent. For John, at this juncture, is about looking forward to and pointing toward Christ.
When the messengers from some of the Jewish leaders ask John about who he is, he identifies himself in terms of the Isaiah prophecy about preparing the way of the Lord. That’s the stuff of Advent. That’s the spirit of one who knows that the Lord is coming, and there are preparations to be made accordingly.
The inquirers of John 1 are to be credited with a certain perceptiveness. Even if they didn’t understand who John was — his role in God’s work — they at least recognized that he was something special. And surely, he is, for how many people can claim to be the fulfillment of prophecy? Unhappily, we discover that the Jewish leaders who showed this interest John’s identity mostly rejected him. But we remain indebted to their inquiry, at least, for they evoke from John these clear statements about who he is and what he came to do.
All of this may seem somewhat anachronistic to the person in the pew, of course. Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, yet John’s preaching is not about that birth. Furthermore, Advent is about the waiting and the anticipating, but John’s message came after the birth of Jesus, not before. It makes sense to recall the preaching of Isaiah or Micah during Advent, but where does the preaching of John fit in?
We routinely use the phrase “Christmas spirit” at this time of year. It means slightly different things to different people perhaps, but it is a part of our vernacular and our understanding of the season. Well John, as alluded to above, embodies the spirit of Advent. And perhaps the “Advent spirit” ought to be what we endeavor to cultivate in this week’s sermon. We are well-acquainted with the merits of the “Christmas spirit,” but perhaps the church needs more of the “Advent spirit.”
Yes, our minds naturally turn to the birth of Jesus at this time of year, and rightly so. Yet the season of Advent is not merely a remembering of other people waiting — people from millennia ago. It is also a recognition that we are waiting now — that creation groans, as Paul says, in eager expectation. For while Christ did come, he will also come again. And in the meantime, his followers must adopt the attitude and the role of John the Baptist, preparing the way for him in the midst of the present wilderness.
Application
There is a great gap between Christ’s first coming and his Second Coming. Not just a great gap of years, but a great gap of awareness. Everyone in the church knows all about his first coming. How much do they know, however, about his Second Coming?
This Sunday gives us an outstanding opportunity to bridge that gap. His first coming is on everyone’s mind right now, after all. While the church refers to the Advent Season, everywhere else around our folks it is the Christmas season. And so, in addition to the snowmen and reindeer, Santas and Grinches, stocking and presents, our people are also thinking about the shepherds and wise men, Mary and Joseph, and the Baby Jesus.
Yet while all of the attention is on an event from the past, we have opportunity to shine a light on the future. While the default setting is to think and to sing about his first coming, we can think and preach about his Second Coming. This is the happy surprise of more good things to be unwrapped!
The selected Old Testament passage from Isaiah is an excellent case in point. While Jesus quoted a few early lines from this passage to introduce his purpose and inaugurate his ministry, the bulk of the passage is not easily confused with the gospels’ biographies of his life and ministry. That is to say, while he brought Good News to the humble and gave sight to the blind, one senses that the picture painted in Isaiah 61 is more big-picture than just the Galilean ministry that blessed a few thousand souls. The Isaiah passage reads like a more eschatological achievement: a wholesale reversal of the present order in favor of the kingdom of God. Jesus proclaimed the coming of that kingdom, to be sure, but we understand that it is a now-but-not-yet proposition. The kingdom is here, but there is more to come. Indeed, Jesus himself taught us to pray for it to come!
Everyone loves a happy ending, and that is surely the spirit of Isaiah 61. The wrongs are righted, the maladies healed, the ruins rebuilt, and the disadvantaged blessed. Except that the eschatology of scripture does one better than a happy ending: it is actually a happy new beginning!
The Gospel lection, meanwhile, presents us with the figure of John the Baptist, and we may find that he serves as a sort of role model for us. He understood himself as a forerunner, one who prepared the way for Christ. What if we embraced that profile for ourselves? I don’t mean to usurp the unique role that John the Baptist plays in scripture or in history, mind you. But he does present us with a compelling picture of our present mission: that is, to live our lives with a confidence that the Lord is coming, and to do our part in preparing the way for him.
And what does that look like? Perhaps the Apostle Paul offers a part of his answer to that question in our passage from 1 Thessalonians. He was writing, after all, with a conscious goal that the people should be complete and blameless “at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” And so, his imperatives (discussed above and below) give us a starting place for what it looks like to live life in the meantime. We are between his first coming and his Second Coming. We rejoice in the gift of salvation and the inauguration of the kingdom of God that came with the first. And we may live with unbridled excitement, anticipation, and hope at the gifts of wholeness, restoration, righteousness, peace, and the fulfillment of the kingdom of God that will come with the second.
Alternative Application(s)
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24 — “Following the Recipe”
I don’t spend much time in the kitchen, but my family does associate me with a few things that comprise my culinary repertoire. They are accustomed to “Daddy’s pancakes” on many Saturday mornings. Occasionally, I will also make French toast. And, on many fall and winter weekends, I will make a large batch of chili. The latter is evidently so good that my daughter who recently married and moved away called for my recipe so that she and her new husband could make it for themselves!
A recipe, of course, typically features two kinds of components: a list of ingredients, and a series of steps. Each is essential. You cannot make the desired dish without having all of the necessary ingredients. And, interestingly, you can’t make the desired dish if you don’t follow the steps in the prescribed order, either.
This latter point is our present focus. The order of the steps is a non-negotiable in most recipes. For if you have all the right ingredients, but you put them together in the wrong order, you’ll only end up with a mess. If I put the dry slices of bread on the griddle and only dip them in the French toast batter afterward, for example, that will not produce the desired effect.
I mention the principle because of the specific order that we noted above in Paul’s parting words to the Thessalonians. Rejoicing comes first, and everything else comes later. All the other things are necessary ingredients: none should be ignored as if it were an optional part of the recipe. But the first step in the recipe of the Christian life is to rejoice.
Of course, if your Christian life or mine is going to begin with rejoicing, then it stands to reason that the best way to make that happen is for us to make sure that each day of our Christian life begins with rejoicing. Let all else be put on hold, for my first order of business is to rejoice! And then, once I have started up that particular engine, it is meant to run all day. For the apostle does not say, “Rejoice first” but “Rejoice always.”
We will not always feel like rejoicing, of course. Perhaps some of us will find that it is rather like getting into a swimming pool — uncomfortable at first, but very pleasant and enjoyable once we’re immersed and moving around within it. So let me begin each morning by jumping into an attitude of rejoicing, and then stay in it through all of the rest of the day.
The great obstacle, as noted above, is how we feel. For sometimes we feel very much like rejoicing, but other times we do not. The fact that Paul says “always,” therefore, strongly suggests that the apostle does not regard rejoicing as a matter of mood or feelings. It is, rather, an act of the will and a choice of one’s focus.
Some years ago, an experience in our family life taught me the difference between feelings and attitudes. I have discovered that I cannot completely control my feelings — many days I just feel the way that I do, and sometimes it is difficult to explain why. But my attitude is completely up to me. How I feel about a person or thing is simply a fact: it’s where the ball lies, and I need to play it from there. But the attitude that I have toward a person or thing is my choice. And no matter how I feel, if I am going to follow Paul’s recipe for Christian living, then I will begin with an attitude of rejoicing.
This has, we’ve discovered, a doubly cheerful effect. There is, of course, the excitement that comes with any big or special gift. And then there is the additional loveliness of the happy surprise. Children who thought that the presents were all gone are delighted to see that there's still more!
Christmas is filled with anticipation for children, of course. I expect most of us remember the eager countdowns, the irresistible sight of the wrapped gifts under the tree, the challenge of falling asleep on Christmas Eve, and the enthusiastic hopping out of bed early on Christmas morning. Christmas is filled with excited anticipation for children.
In contrast to that excitement, of course, there is the possible feeling of letdown once the presents have all been opened. That's not to say that the presents themselves were disappointing, but only a recognition of the sadness that comes when a much-anticipated event is past. The festive pile of colorful and neatly wrapped presents has given way to a more stark sight of a tree with nothing under it but random scraps of wrapping paper and discarded ribbons. To introduce into such a scene an additional, surprise present, therefore, makes the kids’ eyes light up again!
We have a profound version of that that we get to preach this week. We get to tell the people in our views that there is still more to come. Indeed, the best is yet to come!
All of the sights and sounds around us are oriented toward Christmas. And still, beneath the festive songs about reindeer, snowmen, Santa, sentiment, and romance, Christmas is about Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem. Yet our people recognize that that was long ago. That is not something we are waiting for — it has already happened. In that sense, we are a bit like the children after all of the presents have been unwrapped. The real Christmas is behind us not ahead of us, and so we may lack a sense of excitement and anticipation.
And so, in the spirit of Advent, we get to roll out for our people the good news that there is another gift! Actually, quite a few more gifts! For the things that God gave and did at the first Christmas do not exhaust the gifts and good things that he has in store. And so, this week’s selected passages invite us to see, to reflect on, and to be excited about what remains to be unwrapped in the future.
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Our gospel lection for this week is not taken from the episode where Jesus returns to the synagogue in Nazareth (see Luke 4:16-30). Still, it would be a certain sort of homiletical negligence to share this Old Testament passage without acknowledging the special role that it played in the life of Jesus. And, dare we say, more than just the significant role in his life, but in his self-understanding. For there in Nazareth he quoted the beginning of this passage and then declared that it had been fulfilled in the people’s hearing. Consequently, even though it is our Old Testament lection, it is with good warrant that we take this passage to be about Jesus.
As we are very much in the midst of the Advent season, we expect to be thinking about Jesus. And, more specifically, we expect to be thinking about his coming and his mission. For what reason did he come that first time? And what remains of his mission to be accomplished in his Second Coming? Surely this prophetic word from Isaiah offers insight into both.
The passage is rich, both literarily and theologically. In the former case, there is such potent poetry and evocative imagery. There are both inner-textual and intertextual connections to be explored and mined. And then, at the theological level, the implications of this passage are almost without limit. With so broad and deep a passage, therefore, our only realistic choice is to pick one element and try to do right by it. And the specific element I would choose is this: What does the will of God reveal about the heart of God?
So much of this passage, you see, is an expression of what the Lord intends to do. That reveals his will. To know his will is to get a glimpse into his heart. And that glimpse is the profound beauty of Isaiah 61.
We observe, first, that the Lord anoints some emissary to accomplish his purpose. And when we see what that purpose is, we recognize that the anointing of the emissary is rather like dispatching an ambulance or a fire truck. It is merciful rescue. The Lord is not content that this world should simply burn down, even though the fire is mostly of our own making.
We observe, second, that the mission is primarily a message. We see verbs like “bring good news,” “proclaim,” and “comfort,” and we recognize that this is a word from the Lord. And a word from the Lord is a powerful business.
We also observe the pattern of reversals. These people or those who have been in some trouble, difficulty, or misfortune are promised relief, a turning of the tables. And this, we know, is very much the spirit of redemption and biblical eschatology. That is to say, the Lord promises that he will, in the day of the Lord, come in to make right all that is wrong.
Finally, we observe that the heart of this passage and of God’s mission is good news. That phrase is introduced early on, and that tone pervades the entire reading. But then, how could it be otherwise? If God is love, as the Apostle John declares, then of course to peek behind the curtain at his will is to see all sorts of goodness.
We will give more consideration below to the role of Jesus in this Old Testament passage. For now, it is sufficient to say that hundreds of years before Jesus was born in Bethlehem, God had revealed the goodness of his will, his purpose, and his plan. And during these weeks of Advent, we celebrate that Jesus came — and is coming again — to be the agent of that good purpose and plan of God.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
Goodbyes between loved ones often have a staccato quality to them. The conversation while together can feature lengthy discourses on one thing and another. When it comes time to say goodbye, however, there is a natural urgency to say all the other things that need to be said before time runs out. They may be unrelated to each other, and each one might have deserved lengthier treatment if they had come up earlier. As it is, though, we are left to hurry through the things that remain to be said.
If we will see each other again soon, of course, then there is somewhat less urgency to say it all. But as I reflect on the sort of goodbyes that we say to family members who visit from out of town, loved ones we don’t see routinely, I observe this pattern. Our goodbyes try to cover a lot of territory quickly.
So it is, too, with the letters of Paul. Contact between the apostle and the churches he loved was not easy or frequent. They seldom saw one another in person, and written communication was not nearly so take-it-for-granted as it is in our day. A letter was a precious thing, therefore; special and rare.
During the bodies of his epistles, Paul is free to spend time and space on the different subjects that are the priorities in each case. When it comes time to say goodbye, however, we sense in him a hurried quality as he issues quick, one-sentence reminders and instructions, greetings and admonitions. And this is the sort of material we have in our assigned New Testament lection.
The passage features eight Greek verbs in the imperative, and each one might deserve a sermon-length consideration all its own. Personally, I am filing this away as a possible summer sermon series. For the present treatment, however, we shall have to settle for broad observations.
First, it is worth noting what comes first and what comes last. Paul begins with “rejoice always” and ends with the exhortation to abstain from every sort of evil. How many joyless Christians through the ages have gotten that backwards? How many have placed the accent of the Christian life entirely on the syllable of avoiding evil, while rejoicing little or not at all? We will give more detailed thought to this first of the imperatives below.
Meanwhile, we also observe the comprehensiveness of Paul’s instructions. Not necessarily comprehensive in the sense of covering every possible subject, but comprehensive in the scope of each imperative. When do we rejoice? Always. When do we pray? Always. In what do we give thanks? In everything. What do we carefully examine? Everything. And from what evil shall we abstain? Every form of evil.
This Christian life is no part-time job. We don’t punch in and punch out. And this should come as no surprise to us inasmuch as we have been referring to it as the “Christian life.” For if it truly is going to be a Christian life, then it needs to be as 24/7 as life is. Otherwise, let’s stop calling it our “Christian life” and call it our “Christian hobby” or our “Christian avocation.”
Finally, we might also observe that Paul’s quick-hit instructions and reminders are theologically comprehensive. We see, for example, that they are altogether Trinitarian. Also, in addition to instructions that obviously pertain to our relationship with God, there are instructions that certainly imply our relationship to the world. And every one of the eight imperatives implies our relationship to one another, for they are all rendered in the second-person plural.
John 1:6-8, 19-28
Our assigned gospel reading provides a good opportunity for us to clarify for our people the spirit of Advent. In the middle of December, they are surrounded everywhere else by the sights and sounds of the Christmas season. The larger culture doesn’t have much sense for Advent — except, perhaps, for the countdown of the number of shopping days before Christmas. In any case, the expectation might be to hear a reading from the first chapters of Matthew or the early chapters of Luke. Magi, wise men, stars and angels are the characters and stories folks have on their minds. John the Baptist, however, seems out of place at Christmas.
And indeed, he is — unless we’re reading his birth narrative in Luke 1. But while the testimony of John the Baptist may not be a natural part of the Christmas season, it is just right for Advent. For John, at this juncture, is about looking forward to and pointing toward Christ.
When the messengers from some of the Jewish leaders ask John about who he is, he identifies himself in terms of the Isaiah prophecy about preparing the way of the Lord. That’s the stuff of Advent. That’s the spirit of one who knows that the Lord is coming, and there are preparations to be made accordingly.
The inquirers of John 1 are to be credited with a certain perceptiveness. Even if they didn’t understand who John was — his role in God’s work — they at least recognized that he was something special. And surely, he is, for how many people can claim to be the fulfillment of prophecy? Unhappily, we discover that the Jewish leaders who showed this interest John’s identity mostly rejected him. But we remain indebted to their inquiry, at least, for they evoke from John these clear statements about who he is and what he came to do.
All of this may seem somewhat anachronistic to the person in the pew, of course. Christmas is about the birth of Jesus, yet John’s preaching is not about that birth. Furthermore, Advent is about the waiting and the anticipating, but John’s message came after the birth of Jesus, not before. It makes sense to recall the preaching of Isaiah or Micah during Advent, but where does the preaching of John fit in?
We routinely use the phrase “Christmas spirit” at this time of year. It means slightly different things to different people perhaps, but it is a part of our vernacular and our understanding of the season. Well John, as alluded to above, embodies the spirit of Advent. And perhaps the “Advent spirit” ought to be what we endeavor to cultivate in this week’s sermon. We are well-acquainted with the merits of the “Christmas spirit,” but perhaps the church needs more of the “Advent spirit.”
Yes, our minds naturally turn to the birth of Jesus at this time of year, and rightly so. Yet the season of Advent is not merely a remembering of other people waiting — people from millennia ago. It is also a recognition that we are waiting now — that creation groans, as Paul says, in eager expectation. For while Christ did come, he will also come again. And in the meantime, his followers must adopt the attitude and the role of John the Baptist, preparing the way for him in the midst of the present wilderness.
Application
There is a great gap between Christ’s first coming and his Second Coming. Not just a great gap of years, but a great gap of awareness. Everyone in the church knows all about his first coming. How much do they know, however, about his Second Coming?
This Sunday gives us an outstanding opportunity to bridge that gap. His first coming is on everyone’s mind right now, after all. While the church refers to the Advent Season, everywhere else around our folks it is the Christmas season. And so, in addition to the snowmen and reindeer, Santas and Grinches, stocking and presents, our people are also thinking about the shepherds and wise men, Mary and Joseph, and the Baby Jesus.
Yet while all of the attention is on an event from the past, we have opportunity to shine a light on the future. While the default setting is to think and to sing about his first coming, we can think and preach about his Second Coming. This is the happy surprise of more good things to be unwrapped!
The selected Old Testament passage from Isaiah is an excellent case in point. While Jesus quoted a few early lines from this passage to introduce his purpose and inaugurate his ministry, the bulk of the passage is not easily confused with the gospels’ biographies of his life and ministry. That is to say, while he brought Good News to the humble and gave sight to the blind, one senses that the picture painted in Isaiah 61 is more big-picture than just the Galilean ministry that blessed a few thousand souls. The Isaiah passage reads like a more eschatological achievement: a wholesale reversal of the present order in favor of the kingdom of God. Jesus proclaimed the coming of that kingdom, to be sure, but we understand that it is a now-but-not-yet proposition. The kingdom is here, but there is more to come. Indeed, Jesus himself taught us to pray for it to come!
Everyone loves a happy ending, and that is surely the spirit of Isaiah 61. The wrongs are righted, the maladies healed, the ruins rebuilt, and the disadvantaged blessed. Except that the eschatology of scripture does one better than a happy ending: it is actually a happy new beginning!
The Gospel lection, meanwhile, presents us with the figure of John the Baptist, and we may find that he serves as a sort of role model for us. He understood himself as a forerunner, one who prepared the way for Christ. What if we embraced that profile for ourselves? I don’t mean to usurp the unique role that John the Baptist plays in scripture or in history, mind you. But he does present us with a compelling picture of our present mission: that is, to live our lives with a confidence that the Lord is coming, and to do our part in preparing the way for him.
And what does that look like? Perhaps the Apostle Paul offers a part of his answer to that question in our passage from 1 Thessalonians. He was writing, after all, with a conscious goal that the people should be complete and blameless “at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.” And so, his imperatives (discussed above and below) give us a starting place for what it looks like to live life in the meantime. We are between his first coming and his Second Coming. We rejoice in the gift of salvation and the inauguration of the kingdom of God that came with the first. And we may live with unbridled excitement, anticipation, and hope at the gifts of wholeness, restoration, righteousness, peace, and the fulfillment of the kingdom of God that will come with the second.
Alternative Application(s)
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24 — “Following the Recipe”
I don’t spend much time in the kitchen, but my family does associate me with a few things that comprise my culinary repertoire. They are accustomed to “Daddy’s pancakes” on many Saturday mornings. Occasionally, I will also make French toast. And, on many fall and winter weekends, I will make a large batch of chili. The latter is evidently so good that my daughter who recently married and moved away called for my recipe so that she and her new husband could make it for themselves!
A recipe, of course, typically features two kinds of components: a list of ingredients, and a series of steps. Each is essential. You cannot make the desired dish without having all of the necessary ingredients. And, interestingly, you can’t make the desired dish if you don’t follow the steps in the prescribed order, either.
This latter point is our present focus. The order of the steps is a non-negotiable in most recipes. For if you have all the right ingredients, but you put them together in the wrong order, you’ll only end up with a mess. If I put the dry slices of bread on the griddle and only dip them in the French toast batter afterward, for example, that will not produce the desired effect.
I mention the principle because of the specific order that we noted above in Paul’s parting words to the Thessalonians. Rejoicing comes first, and everything else comes later. All the other things are necessary ingredients: none should be ignored as if it were an optional part of the recipe. But the first step in the recipe of the Christian life is to rejoice.
Of course, if your Christian life or mine is going to begin with rejoicing, then it stands to reason that the best way to make that happen is for us to make sure that each day of our Christian life begins with rejoicing. Let all else be put on hold, for my first order of business is to rejoice! And then, once I have started up that particular engine, it is meant to run all day. For the apostle does not say, “Rejoice first” but “Rejoice always.”
We will not always feel like rejoicing, of course. Perhaps some of us will find that it is rather like getting into a swimming pool — uncomfortable at first, but very pleasant and enjoyable once we’re immersed and moving around within it. So let me begin each morning by jumping into an attitude of rejoicing, and then stay in it through all of the rest of the day.
The great obstacle, as noted above, is how we feel. For sometimes we feel very much like rejoicing, but other times we do not. The fact that Paul says “always,” therefore, strongly suggests that the apostle does not regard rejoicing as a matter of mood or feelings. It is, rather, an act of the will and a choice of one’s focus.
Some years ago, an experience in our family life taught me the difference between feelings and attitudes. I have discovered that I cannot completely control my feelings — many days I just feel the way that I do, and sometimes it is difficult to explain why. But my attitude is completely up to me. How I feel about a person or thing is simply a fact: it’s where the ball lies, and I need to play it from there. But the attitude that I have toward a person or thing is my choice. And no matter how I feel, if I am going to follow Paul’s recipe for Christian living, then I will begin with an attitude of rejoicing.
