December 13, 2009 | 8:00 a.m.

What Should We Do?

Jocelyn C. Cadwallader
Pastoral Resident, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 8
Luke 3:7–18

What we know in the secret recesses of our hearts is that the story of scarcity is a tale of death. And the people of God counter this tale by witnessing to the manna. There is a more excellent bread than crass materialism. It is the bread of life, and you don’t have to bake it.

Walter Brueggemann
“The Liturgy of Abundance, the Myth of Scarcity”

The other day I was chatting with my colleagues Sarah and Joann, and Sarah was telling us about an experience she had had the evening before. As you’ll remember, this past week we haven’t had the nicest weather, and on one of the evenings in particular, puddles abounded. Sarah was riding the bus, and when her stop came, there was one other person who was also getting off. In relatively normal style, the bus stopped with the exit door directly over a giant, black, gasoline-and-grime-and-gunk-filled puddle. The other person leapt out of the bus onto the sidewalk, clearing the puddle. Then he turned around, looked Sarah in the eye, reached out his hand, and said, “OK, we’re gonna do this! Hand me your bag, and if you jump into my arms, I won’t judge you.” Sarah laughed, took his hand, and landed on the sidewalk unscathed, and they went their separate ways. As she was finishing the story, Joann commented that it was an example of a modern-day laying one’s coat down over the puddle to protect the woman’s delicate feet. We all chuckled a little, but at the very least, I think our hearts were warmed a bit at the thought of a random act of kindness.

I think random acts of kindness are truly interesting. In our culture, the marketing of random acts of kindness has really taken off. There are bumper stickers, bracelets, signs, books, and more that remind us as individuals to practice random acts of kindness because it’s good for us not only as individuals—we do get that “feel good” feeling when we do something nice—but also because we’re attempting to do something to contribute to the betterment of society.

Our scripture lesson this morning also shares a word with us as to how we might contribute to society in a positive way. Although I think the Gospel writer may be suggesting that simply an act or two isn’t necessarily enough . . .

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You brood of vipers! Yeesh! At first glance, it doesn’t sound as if John believes these people, these believers who came from near and far to be bathed in the water by him, are the kinds of people who frequently practice random acts of kindness. But I’m not so sure that’s the thrust of his meaning here. Though it’s ear-catching, I don’t want to dwell too much on this particular label but rather more on what follows. The first portion of our scripture lesson offers an accounting of John the Baptist addressing those who have come for baptism, imploring them to understand the full repercussions of their actions. They are coming to be baptized, and he wants to be sure they truly understand what that means for their lives. This action is taken out of great faith, and it is also accompanied with great responsibility. There are new consequences to their actions.

John the Baptist, waist deep in the river, preparing the way for the One to come, warns those who have sought safety in the old order, in the comfort of the known, conventional standards, that even they must repent. They must change their methods, change their understanding, not only of their individual identity but also to recognize that as they are cleansed, they will now be responsible to one another in love, fairness, and justice. This baptism is no simple cleansing. It is not an empty ritual, an action to ensure a better seat in heaven or a sign to show off to your friends. This baptism is a more holistic experience than that, and it is not to be taken lightly.

Bishop Will Willimon provides us with a little history of the scene in the river that day. At that time in history, Israel practiced proselyte baptism, which means that “Gentile converts had to be bathed as a sign of radical change.” The old ways are no longer acceptable, in any way, shape, or form, and the paradigm and outlook ultimately and irrevocably shifts. Essentially, those who were bold to practice random acts of kindness as their proof of faith were being called to something deeper, something more impacting, a life in which random acts are not random but the norm, and fairness and equality become the joyous goal. As the waters rush over them, the habits of fear, of needing to preserve what is known because growth into something new is too scary; the habits rooted in scarcity, that mentality of there is not enough or there won’t be unless we protect it at all costs—all those habits are washed away. And as the water rushes over the baptized and splashes back into the river, the sounds of the droplets hitting the water ring in new sounds of justice and fairness. No longer will the tax collector take advantage; no longer will the soldier expect more than his pay; no more should fear-mongering take precedence over fostering real peace; no more should the economic stability of a few take precedence over the health care of all people.

Friends, this scripture speaks to us this day. It speaks to those of us sitting here in this building, in this city, in this Presbyterian church, in this country. The old ways, the ways that we have always understood, the paradigms in which we operate are no longer acceptable. The methods of the viper, the methods in which fear fosters habits of “preservation,” the methods of scarcity, of looking out for “number one” when “number one” can only be seen in a mirror, are no longer acceptable. The old point of view of feeling good about the day and one’s own contribution to the world from the single action of offering your hand to a fellow bus-rider is no longer enough. A new reality is before us. The reality in which we continue to function in our lives, in the vocations that we are called to, as tax collectors, as soldiers, doctors, office assistants, teachers, civil servants, and the point of view from which we approach our lives are ones set on fairness, on love, on equality for all.

Walter Brueggemann eloquently articulates his understanding of this in his essay “A Liturgy of Abundance, the Myth of Scarcity.” He says, “Whether we are liberal or conservative Christians, we must confess that the central problem of our lives is that we are torn apart by the conflict between our attraction to the good news of God’s abundance and the power of our belief in scarcity—a belief that makes us greedy, mean and unneighborly. We spend our lives trying to sort out that ambiguity.” In our scripture reading today, we are offered a nugget of help in clarifying this ambiguity. John the Baptist implores us to prepare ourselves for nothing short of a complete paradigm shift that releases us from the bonds of fear, from the bonds of scarcity, from the bonds of belief that we must “protect” that which is “ours” and embrace the lifestyle in which sharing, equality, and fairness triumph. We are now free to not only be attracted to, but fall in love with, the good news of God’s abundance and lay to rest the anxiety and hurtfulness of belief in scarcity.

“The verse “Bear fruits worthy of repentance” means that our practices must coincide with our rhetoric, and as the story continues, the Gospel writer offers us the reality that there are individuals and communities who are willing to respond to the Gospel’s call for a transformed society. Although it will involve a careful examination of their attitudes and behaviors, crowds of people, soldiers and tax collectors alike, are willing to closely look at their lives for the sake of the new world it will create.” Shively T.J. Smith comments, “In this passage from the Gospel of Luke, the writer calls on hearers to reflect on why they respond as they do to God’s activities within the world.” And, perhaps we may ask the same question for ourselves, What should we do?”

In today’s lesson, these people are described as being in a state of “expectation” as seen in verse 15. They are excited because they are open to the movement of God. Shively adds, “Regardless of one’s socio-political standing, ethnicity, and gender, we are called not only to believe in the coming of Christ, but to live our lives in such a way that reflects the just and compassionate love we experience in Christ.” In the season of Advent, we celebrate the movement of God that transforms communities. Brueggemann quips, “When people forget that Jesus is the bread of the world, they start eating junk food—the food of the Pharisees and of Herod, the bread of moralism and of power. Too often the church forgets the true bread and is tempted by junk food. Our faith is not just about spiritual matters; it is about the transformation of the world.”

Friends, there is a joyous new light to prepare for, a new life. And what should we do?