A man was recently on his way to a Lobos basketball game at The Pit. As you know, there’s a lot of
construction going on there, and parking is a bit tricky. Well, the gentleman was only five minutes
from tip-off time, and still couldn’t find a parking place. So he remembered what his priest had said
about situations like this, and he prayed.
He said, “Please Lord, I don’t want to miss the start of this game. Please help me to find a parking
place. If you do I’ll go to church every Sunday, and I’ll be a better husband, I’ll treat my wife like a
queen.” And just then, directly ahead and to his right, a parking place appeared. The man clapped
his hands together and exclaimed, “Never mind, Lord! I just found one.”
I just want you to know, the man in question was not John Perner. I have it on good authority that
John has learned to rejoice in God’s provision. Today St. Paul tells the Philippians, and us, to
rejoice in the Lord, not only when things are going well and we find that parking space, but all the
time. In fact his words are the source of the name given to the Third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete
Sunday. Gaudete is a Latin word that means simply, “Rejoice.” It’s the first word of our Philippians
passage, and “Gaudete” is the name and first word of an ancient hymn crafted for this special day.
As you hear the lectionary readings for today, you may be struck by the apparent contrast in them.
We have the Zephaniah reading, the Canticle, and the letter to the Philippians all prompting us to
rejoice. Then we have the always sanguine John the Baptist calling his listeners the brood of vipers,
you know, sons of snakes, and talking about chopping down trees, throwing the worthless, dead
branches into the fire, and threshing floors, and throwing the wheat chaff into the fire, and so on.
Then Luke cheerily concludes by writing, “So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good
news to the people.”
It kind of reminds me of the late British comedian Marty Feldman, who, with wild eyes and disheveled
hair, once did a routine which started with him theatrically and ominously predicting a variety of
cataclysms upon the earth. Then the lights came up with a weather map in the background, and he
concluded by saying, “And the rest of the week will be clear and warmer, with highs in the 60’s.”
Well, I think it’s fair to say that Luke really does see the coming of Christ as good news. For
throughout the writings of the prophets, mercy follows judgment, as we’ll see shortly. What I’d like to
do this morning is to walk us through the first three readings, and just say a few words about the
“why” and “how” of their encouragement for us to rejoice. Now I realize that doing an analysis of
something like joy is sort of like taking apart a beautiful watch to see what makes it tick, but I hope to
mitigate this by recapturing a little of the flavor of the original words.
First we have the Old Testament prophet Zephaniah. Zephaniah was writing during the time of the
Judean King Josiah, right about the same time that Jeremiah was prophesying. He spends the
better part of three chapters warning of impending judgment upon Judah. This was probably all
taking place in a time when a culture called the Scythians were on the move. They were a warlike
tribe from the steppes of what’s now called Russia. But the main fulfillment of this prophecy came
when the Babylonians marched in and captured Judah. And Zephaniah paints a very graphic
picture of what lies in store for the unfaithful tribes of Judah when all this takes place.
But after these dire warnings come the passage that we heard a few minutes ago. It’s a prophecy
about how God’s people will once again be faithful, and blessed by God. The prophet bursts out,
“Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter
Jerusalem!” Why? Because “The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned
away your enemies.” Zephaniah goes on to reassure his readers that God will exult over his people,
and save the lame and the outcast, and turn the people’s shame into praise. He says He will
remove all disaster, and restore their fortunes. So in the end, just when it seems that by allowing
the natural consequence of their sin to run its course God is turning them over to their just fate, God
himself comes to the rescue, and changes their course to one of favor and blessing. Does the
general theme here sound a little familiar?
Well, if not, please consider the Song of Isaiah. In the chapter just prior, Isaiah has unveiled the
Lord’s prophecy about the coming Messiah, the one he calls “the shoot from the stump of Jesse”
and “the root of Jesse.” And now, he too exults in God’s promises and His faithfulness. I’m going to
quote from the paraphrase of the Song of Isaiah we just sang as a Canticle: “Surely it is God who
saves me; trusting him, I shall not fear. For the Lord defends and shields me and his saving help is
near. So rejoice as you draw water from salvation’s living spring; in the day of your deliverance
thank the lord, his mercies sing.”
Now, there’s something important to realize here. Just like Zephaniah, Isaiah also predicts
impending judgment upon Israel. He speaks of Israel as a nation blind and deaf. He calls her a
vineyard that will be trampled. He says that her people are devoid of justice of righteousness, and
that an awful judgment will be unleashed upon her.
Yet after this it’s a story of God once again coming to the rescue. He will be and He will provide a
Savior. The NRSV translation says, “Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing from the springs
of salvation.” Why rejoicing? Because God has stepped out to save His people, and the darkness
has again been turned to dawn.
Now let’s look at Paul. He cries out, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!” Sounds
like things are going pretty well for him, right? After all, anyone who rejoices must have some pretty
good reason for it. Well, at the time he wrote his letter to the Philippians, Paul was not a free man.
The most reliable conjecture puts him under house arrest in the city of Rome, in the year 61 AD. It’s
referred to in the 28th Chapter of Acts. He’s facing trial at the hands of the Roman Empire on
trumped up charges.
Yet here he is saying “Rejoice!” He says, “The Lord is near. Don’t worry about anything, but in
everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in
Christ Jesus.” Rejoice! Why? Because the Lord is near, and once again he’s come to give us
peace and to guard our hearts and our minds.
It was interesting to read what a number of clergy and commentators had to say about today’s
readings. They kept harping on the theme of how important our attitude is. It was like, gosh, we can
take just about anything if we keep looking on the bright side.
This is all well and good, except I don’t think this is really isn’t about our attitudes. It’s not about us
at all. It’s about the fact that we have a faithful God who promises good to us, and keeps His
promises, and brings us salvation and peace. It’s a pattern that’s expressed itself all through
Scripture. In fact, the Old Testament prophecies can be seen as a “type”, in which the pattern is
that we get ourselves into horrific messes because of our sin, and just when it looks like the natural
outcome of our sins and errors will be played out in lasting disaster, the Lord comes to save us and
give us another chance. Just when things look their scariest, He comes through.
One snowy December evening in Pennsylvania, when I was in seminary, we’d invited some of our
international student friends over for dinner. They were Simon Dharmaraj, a priest from India,
Gideon Kwazera, a priest from Tanzania, and Samson Mwaluda, a bishop from Kenya. I went to pick
up each of them, and drove them home through a driving snowstorm on the slippery streets of
Ambridge.
Well, much of the “conversation” on that tense drive involved Fr. Simon and Bishop Samson. Simon
kept looking out of the car windows in wonder, and saying, “Well, just praise the Lord!” Every time
he said this, Bishop Samson replied from the back seat, “Heh, heh, heh.” Paul wouldn’t have had to
lecture them on rejoicing, and not worrying, and luxuriating in God’s peace. Despite being from
South India and equatorial Africa, respectively, they weren’t in the least worried about snow and
slippery streets. They had the peace of God.
Like so many things in Scripture, joy is one of those things that defies conventional wisdom. One
could be forgiven for thinking that joy could only grow in the sunshine of good fortune. But joy
actually seems to take root in the darkness. Because even the darkness is penetrated by God’s
presence. The Psalmist says, “If I climb up to heaven, you are there; if I make the grave my bed,
you are there also…If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will cover me, and the light around me turn to
night, darkness is not darkness to you; the night is as bright as the day; darkness and light to you
are both alike.” This is what gives us hope for the future.
So when John the Baptist says what he says in today’s Gospel, he’s acknowledging two things.
First, that the consequences of our foolish and self-centered decisions are very real, and second,
that for those who repent and believe there’s one coming who is equipped to deal with this darkness
by giving the comfort of forgiveness and the warm light of the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. John
says, “One who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.
He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” It’s for this reason that we can have God’s peace in
our lives, regardless of our circumstances.
When Israel was in bondage to Babylon, most people saw little reason to rejoice. When Jesus was
tried, beaten and crucified, most people saw little reason to rejoice. When Paul was held in chains
for his beliefs, most would see little reason to rejoice. When the economy recently came unglued,
most saw little reason. And now, when the society that used to be largely nourished by the Christian
faith circles and attacks the hand that once fed it, many of the faithful see little reason to rejoice.
But it’s exactly here that each of us can claim the reassurance Paul gives when he urges us to
rejoice. Because the pattern of crisis and rescue we’ve seen throughout the pages of Scripture has
come to a culmination. The One whose birth and whose return we joyfully await has provided the
final and everlasting remedy for the human race. His salvation is eternal and His peace defies
comprehension.
So let us enthusiastically receive Paul’s words of encouragement: “Let your gentleness be known to
everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and
supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in
Christ Jesus.” This promise is for you. Amen.
construction going on there, and parking is a bit tricky. Well, the gentleman was only five minutes
from tip-off time, and still couldn’t find a parking place. So he remembered what his priest had said
about situations like this, and he prayed.
He said, “Please Lord, I don’t want to miss the start of this game. Please help me to find a parking
place. If you do I’ll go to church every Sunday, and I’ll be a better husband, I’ll treat my wife like a
queen.” And just then, directly ahead and to his right, a parking place appeared. The man clapped
his hands together and exclaimed, “Never mind, Lord! I just found one.”
I just want you to know, the man in question was not John Perner. I have it on good authority that
John has learned to rejoice in God’s provision. Today St. Paul tells the Philippians, and us, to
rejoice in the Lord, not only when things are going well and we find that parking space, but all the
time. In fact his words are the source of the name given to the Third Sunday of Advent, Gaudete
Sunday. Gaudete is a Latin word that means simply, “Rejoice.” It’s the first word of our Philippians
passage, and “Gaudete” is the name and first word of an ancient hymn crafted for this special day.
As you hear the lectionary readings for today, you may be struck by the apparent contrast in them.
We have the Zephaniah reading, the Canticle, and the letter to the Philippians all prompting us to
rejoice. Then we have the always sanguine John the Baptist calling his listeners the brood of vipers,
you know, sons of snakes, and talking about chopping down trees, throwing the worthless, dead
branches into the fire, and threshing floors, and throwing the wheat chaff into the fire, and so on.
Then Luke cheerily concludes by writing, “So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good
news to the people.”
It kind of reminds me of the late British comedian Marty Feldman, who, with wild eyes and disheveled
hair, once did a routine which started with him theatrically and ominously predicting a variety of
cataclysms upon the earth. Then the lights came up with a weather map in the background, and he
concluded by saying, “And the rest of the week will be clear and warmer, with highs in the 60’s.”
Well, I think it’s fair to say that Luke really does see the coming of Christ as good news. For
throughout the writings of the prophets, mercy follows judgment, as we’ll see shortly. What I’d like to
do this morning is to walk us through the first three readings, and just say a few words about the
“why” and “how” of their encouragement for us to rejoice. Now I realize that doing an analysis of
something like joy is sort of like taking apart a beautiful watch to see what makes it tick, but I hope to
mitigate this by recapturing a little of the flavor of the original words.
First we have the Old Testament prophet Zephaniah. Zephaniah was writing during the time of the
Judean King Josiah, right about the same time that Jeremiah was prophesying. He spends the
better part of three chapters warning of impending judgment upon Judah. This was probably all
taking place in a time when a culture called the Scythians were on the move. They were a warlike
tribe from the steppes of what’s now called Russia. But the main fulfillment of this prophecy came
when the Babylonians marched in and captured Judah. And Zephaniah paints a very graphic
picture of what lies in store for the unfaithful tribes of Judah when all this takes place.
But after these dire warnings come the passage that we heard a few minutes ago. It’s a prophecy
about how God’s people will once again be faithful, and blessed by God. The prophet bursts out,
“Sing aloud, O daughter Zion; shout, O Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter
Jerusalem!” Why? Because “The Lord has taken away the judgments against you, he has turned
away your enemies.” Zephaniah goes on to reassure his readers that God will exult over his people,
and save the lame and the outcast, and turn the people’s shame into praise. He says He will
remove all disaster, and restore their fortunes. So in the end, just when it seems that by allowing
the natural consequence of their sin to run its course God is turning them over to their just fate, God
himself comes to the rescue, and changes their course to one of favor and blessing. Does the
general theme here sound a little familiar?
Well, if not, please consider the Song of Isaiah. In the chapter just prior, Isaiah has unveiled the
Lord’s prophecy about the coming Messiah, the one he calls “the shoot from the stump of Jesse”
and “the root of Jesse.” And now, he too exults in God’s promises and His faithfulness. I’m going to
quote from the paraphrase of the Song of Isaiah we just sang as a Canticle: “Surely it is God who
saves me; trusting him, I shall not fear. For the Lord defends and shields me and his saving help is
near. So rejoice as you draw water from salvation’s living spring; in the day of your deliverance
thank the lord, his mercies sing.”
Now, there’s something important to realize here. Just like Zephaniah, Isaiah also predicts
impending judgment upon Israel. He speaks of Israel as a nation blind and deaf. He calls her a
vineyard that will be trampled. He says that her people are devoid of justice of righteousness, and
that an awful judgment will be unleashed upon her.
Yet after this it’s a story of God once again coming to the rescue. He will be and He will provide a
Savior. The NRSV translation says, “Therefore you shall draw water with rejoicing from the springs
of salvation.” Why rejoicing? Because God has stepped out to save His people, and the darkness
has again been turned to dawn.
Now let’s look at Paul. He cries out, “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice!” Sounds
like things are going pretty well for him, right? After all, anyone who rejoices must have some pretty
good reason for it. Well, at the time he wrote his letter to the Philippians, Paul was not a free man.
The most reliable conjecture puts him under house arrest in the city of Rome, in the year 61 AD. It’s
referred to in the 28th Chapter of Acts. He’s facing trial at the hands of the Roman Empire on
trumped up charges.
Yet here he is saying “Rejoice!” He says, “The Lord is near. Don’t worry about anything, but in
everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in
Christ Jesus.” Rejoice! Why? Because the Lord is near, and once again he’s come to give us
peace and to guard our hearts and our minds.
It was interesting to read what a number of clergy and commentators had to say about today’s
readings. They kept harping on the theme of how important our attitude is. It was like, gosh, we can
take just about anything if we keep looking on the bright side.
This is all well and good, except I don’t think this is really isn’t about our attitudes. It’s not about us
at all. It’s about the fact that we have a faithful God who promises good to us, and keeps His
promises, and brings us salvation and peace. It’s a pattern that’s expressed itself all through
Scripture. In fact, the Old Testament prophecies can be seen as a “type”, in which the pattern is
that we get ourselves into horrific messes because of our sin, and just when it looks like the natural
outcome of our sins and errors will be played out in lasting disaster, the Lord comes to save us and
give us another chance. Just when things look their scariest, He comes through.
One snowy December evening in Pennsylvania, when I was in seminary, we’d invited some of our
international student friends over for dinner. They were Simon Dharmaraj, a priest from India,
Gideon Kwazera, a priest from Tanzania, and Samson Mwaluda, a bishop from Kenya. I went to pick
up each of them, and drove them home through a driving snowstorm on the slippery streets of
Ambridge.
Well, much of the “conversation” on that tense drive involved Fr. Simon and Bishop Samson. Simon
kept looking out of the car windows in wonder, and saying, “Well, just praise the Lord!” Every time
he said this, Bishop Samson replied from the back seat, “Heh, heh, heh.” Paul wouldn’t have had to
lecture them on rejoicing, and not worrying, and luxuriating in God’s peace. Despite being from
South India and equatorial Africa, respectively, they weren’t in the least worried about snow and
slippery streets. They had the peace of God.
Like so many things in Scripture, joy is one of those things that defies conventional wisdom. One
could be forgiven for thinking that joy could only grow in the sunshine of good fortune. But joy
actually seems to take root in the darkness. Because even the darkness is penetrated by God’s
presence. The Psalmist says, “If I climb up to heaven, you are there; if I make the grave my bed,
you are there also…If I say, ‘Surely the darkness will cover me, and the light around me turn to
night, darkness is not darkness to you; the night is as bright as the day; darkness and light to you
are both alike.” This is what gives us hope for the future.
So when John the Baptist says what he says in today’s Gospel, he’s acknowledging two things.
First, that the consequences of our foolish and self-centered decisions are very real, and second,
that for those who repent and believe there’s one coming who is equipped to deal with this darkness
by giving the comfort of forgiveness and the warm light of the Holy Spirit to dwell within us. John
says, “One who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals.
He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” It’s for this reason that we can have God’s peace in
our lives, regardless of our circumstances.
When Israel was in bondage to Babylon, most people saw little reason to rejoice. When Jesus was
tried, beaten and crucified, most people saw little reason to rejoice. When Paul was held in chains
for his beliefs, most would see little reason to rejoice. When the economy recently came unglued,
most saw little reason. And now, when the society that used to be largely nourished by the Christian
faith circles and attacks the hand that once fed it, many of the faithful see little reason to rejoice.
But it’s exactly here that each of us can claim the reassurance Paul gives when he urges us to
rejoice. Because the pattern of crisis and rescue we’ve seen throughout the pages of Scripture has
come to a culmination. The One whose birth and whose return we joyfully await has provided the
final and everlasting remedy for the human race. His salvation is eternal and His peace defies
comprehension.
So let us enthusiastically receive Paul’s words of encouragement: “Let your gentleness be known to
everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and
supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.
And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in
Christ Jesus.” This promise is for you. Amen.
Reason to Rejoice!
Third Sunday in Advent, 2009
Third Sunday in Advent, 2009
December 13, 2009
The Rev. Daniel Tuton
The Rev. Daniel Tuton
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