ISAIAH 65:17-25
PSALM 126
1 THESSALONIANS 5:12-28
JOHN 3:23-30
Sermon – December 11,
2005
“He must increase,
but I must decrease”
(8:30 opening)
Some years ago, a promising young comedian got a job as the opening act
at a show at which the main act was Frank Sinatra. The young comedian, thrilled at the gig, at the paycheck and at
the packed house he knew would await him, asked the show’s producer how long he
would have to do his warm-up act, so that he could pace himself to use
his best material just before the star came on stage.
The producer responded, “Mr. Sinatra will come on the stage whenever he
wants to, and then you will immediately exit.”
“But when will that be?
Come on, give me a clue?” “I
have no idea.” “But suppose I’m in the
middle of a joke?” “Then you leave, and
quickly. No one came here tonight to
see you, kid.” The producer reminded him, “They came to see the Chairman of the
Board.”
(10:30 opening)
One time when Muhammad Ali was at the height of his career, during one of
his reigns as World Heavyweight Boxing Champion, he was onboard an
airplane. Just before takeoff, the
flight attendant gave the routine instructions about buckling seat belts. The Champ ignored her.
“Excuse me, Mr. Ali, you must buckle your seatbelt before takeoff,” she
said to him. Ali flashed his trademark
grin: “Superman don’t need no seatbelt.”
“Superman don’t need no airplane,” she replied. Ali pondered that for a second and buckled
his seatbelt.
(both sermons)
There are strong forces in American culture, and in human life generally,
that push us to think more of ourselves than we should. Even people whose role, for now at least, is
to be an opening act for a bigger star crave more attention for themselves and
respect for their craft. Even people
who are the biggest stars in their professions or fields are tempted to think
of themselves as even bigger than they are.
This kind of pride can be devastating to people who invest their whole
self-worth in achievements or status which always lie just beyond their grasp
because their life goals become ever more inflated. Painfully aware that few fans run onto football fields chanting,
“We’re number two!”, that few people can name the second person to land
on the moon and that the loser of even a presidential election is reduced to a
mere historical footnote, people may find it tempting to strive for goals very
few can achieve in whatever field they labor in and feel crushed if they fall
short.
At least for the movies, they give out Oscars for “Best Supporting Actor
or Actress,” but in how many other fields is that true? More often, it’s “Teacher of the Year” or
“Employee of the Month.” Being a
crucial team player and the second best in an organization – or the one whose
work led to the historic breakthrough by someone else – rarely gets the
credit those roles deserve.
And if our personal joy is tied to being #1 at what we do,
at being recognized, admired, looked up to or simply being the center of
attention for a time, if we have had that, we may miss it terribly, and
if we haven’t had it, we may crave it terribly, and even become bitter
and depressed, perhaps looking for people to blame for our “failure to get our
due.”
In any of these cases, joy may be elusive.
The third Sunday of Advent traditionally has the theme of joy, as
noted in the handout of Advent devotionals for the home, and as occurs in all
four of our scriptures, including the psalm today. So if secular culture tells us to find joy mainly in our own
accomplishments and in being recognized for them, where does the Bible
tell us to find joy? And can we,
therefore, find joy where the Bible tells us to find it even (or
especially) when there may not be as much joy in our lives from
our own life experiences as we would want?
In our first reading, the prophet tells the people of Israel to rejoice
in what God is doing. Rejoice whenever
they see blessings, healing, peace, prosperity, and recognize that ultimately God
will make the creation overflow with all of these. God will do it. It
doesn’t all depend on us.
The Psalmist also gives thanks for God’s action in beginning the
restoration of Jerusalem, and twice predicts that the people will experience joy
as a result of God’s action:
“Those who sowed with tears will reap with songs of joy.”
St. Paul writes to the church in Thessalonica, Greece, to “Rejoice
always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances.” That’s radical talk – after all, some people
don’t even give thanks to God when everything is going well for them,
never mind in all circumstances.
But because God lives and loves, because Christ is risen, because the
Holy Spirit is active in the world and offers us guidance, strength and
healing, there is always reason to give
thanks and rejoice, even if we also can legitimately lament and pray for
help. Again, we look outside
ourselves to God and what God does and find joy.
Most dramatically, there is the example of John the Baptist. He was a big-time star in his time, drawing
crowds out to his abode in the middle of nowhere even though (or perhaps,
because) his message was anything but warm, fuzzy and reassuring. His impact was such that, in an age when
news traveled as fast as a donkey on land or a sailboat at sea, he had
followers hundreds of miles away (in modern day Turkey) a generation after his
death.
And, he had in his own time a coterie of disciples who (perhaps to
reassure themselves of their own importance) kept trying to tell him how
important he was, and even, in today’s Gospel, who tried to get John to
be jealous of Jesus – or perhaps to try to get John to resist Jesus’
rising popularity.
His disciples “came to John and said to him, ‘Rabbi, the one who was with
you across the Jordan, to whom you testified, here he is baptizing,
and all are going to him.’ Hey,
champ, you’re #1, right champ, right?
You’re John the Baptist – you’ll put this upstart in his place,
right, champ?
“John answered, ‘No one can receive anything except what has been given
from heaven. You yourselves are my witnesses
that I said, ‘I am not the Messiah, but I have been sent ahead of
him.’ He who has the bride is the
bridegroom. The friend of the
bridegroom, who stands and hears his voice, rejoices greatly at the
bridegroom’s voice. For this reason my joy has been fulfilled. He must increase, but I must decrease.”
(emphasis added)
His joy came from – not bringing out throngs into the
wilderness by the Jordan River to hear his message and ask for baptism
for the forgiveness of sins, not from collecting a bunch of eager,
adoring disciples, not from the “buzz” he was generating that he
might be the messiah, not even by being able to tell powerful hypocrites
to their faces what other people were thinking but which nobody else had the
guts to say.
His joy came from hearing Jesus’ voice.
His joy came from knowing that his own time was nearly over!
His joy came from seeing the beginning of the fulfillment of God’s
purposes. “He must increase, but I must
decrease.” And he said that with joy.
Is that counter-cultural or what?
John, who is more prominent in the opening chapters of all four Gospels
than anyone except Jesus, knew his central message was “It’s not
about me. It’s about Jesus.”
And he declared that “his joy had been fulfilled.”
John never had a lucrative and secure job, never owned a home, never got
married and had kids and grandkids, never had a dinner in his honor, never had
a comfortable retirement, never died peacefully in bed. In fact, he was beheaded while in prison at
the direction of a petty king whom John had condemned for immorality. If you had told John ahead of time the
manner of his death, he probably would neither have been surprised nor changed
his message.
He already had abundant joy, joy
that nothing and no one could take away from him, joy knowing that Christ
was in the world, and that Christ the Savior was, is and always will be
unstoppable. His love will overcome
all forces of wickedness and all causes of sorrow.
That same source of joy is available for each and every one of
us. Christ is alive. Christ is the Lord. Christ will reign supreme. Whatever the circumstances of our lives,
past, present or future, that source of joy is available and inexhaustible
to all who believe in him.
“Joy to the world, the Lord is come.”
(The Rev.) Francis A. Hubbard
St. Barnabas Episcopal Church,
Monmouth Junction, NJ