The Days Are Surely Coming

Scripture Lessons: Psalm 25: 1-10 and Jeremiah 33: 14-16 Sermon Title: The days are surely coming Preached on December 2, 2018 Neither our first nor our second Scripture Lesson sound particularly Christmassy on first reading, so now that it’s December 2nd let me read you this: ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. That’s a good one, and it accurately describes what I remember feeling all the nights leading up to Christmas morning throughout my childhood. I remember falling asleep thinking about what Santa Clause would leave under the tree, and the anticipation – the hope – just the act of imagining what was to come brought me joy. Is there anything in a lifetime that a person looks forward to as much as they did as a child looking forward to Christmas morning? I hope so. But there are days when you wonder about that. When your Georgia red is replaced with black for mourning last night’s loss to Alabama. Does it seem to you like hope has died? Being hopeful about the future is hard sometimes. I remember days when I couldn’t wait to get older because I felt like you have to be older to have any fun, but that stops. No one has a fake ID so they can get a Senior Citizens Discount early, do they? At some point, rather than looking forward with optimism, we want to turn back time, fearing that the best days are in the past. We push the sugar-plums of Christmas-morning-to-come out of the way to imagine turning back time so that we wake up with a full head of hair again. So, it goes, that as children we rush down the stairs and into the future, only to turn into adults who mourn the passage of days. But one preacher said there’s a reason the windshield is so much bigger than your rearview mirror. It’s because while we must be mindful of what’s behind us, our focus must always be primarily on what’s ahead. And so, the season of Advent comes onto the scene as a reminder to change our perspective. To reframe our reality, by turning our attention towards what’s ahead. This time of year, is all about the future – and what is it that we have to look forward to? If we truly consider what’s ahead than we’ll be filled with more joyful anticipation than a young child who rushes down the stairs on Christmas morning, for during this time of Advent we remember that what is promised us is the fulfillment of hope. The dawn of dreams. The beginning of joy. The rising tide of justice. The reign of love. The end of death. The coming of Christ. And Jesus, whose birth we anticipate during this season of Advent, is symbolized this morning as a “righteous branch to spring up for David.” “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David.” Now – a righteous branch that springs up from a tree stump is a significant symbol. But, its different in powerful ways from so many of the symbols that represent Jesus and his birthday this Christmas season. Think of the Christmas Tree. I love the Christmas tree as much as I love the thanksgiving turkey. In fact – later today we’re planning on doing one of my favorite family rituals of the whole year – going out to pick our family Christmas tree. Perhaps after some negotiation, a little compromise, and a bit of debate, we’ll settled on a tree. And then, after it’s packaged up in plastic mesh, tied to the roof of the car or stuffed in the trunk, a beautiful tree, cut fresh from its roots, will stand prominently in our living room. I’ll bring down the Christmas boxes from the attic and will be in charge of the lights, Sara and the girls will finish it with decorations, some of which have been in the family since Sara and I were little. But as much as I love a Christmas tree, it can’t last forever. In a month or so, I’ll haul it out of the living room. The tree will be so dried out that I’ll leave a trail of pine needles behind me, and at that point, regardless of how much it cost the only thing to do with this symbol of Christmas once it’s dried out is to toss it to the curb, over the fence into the neighbor’s yard, or give it to an old farmer who will use it to fill gullies that the rain has washed out around his farm. When you think about that – the lifespan of a Christmas tree – then really a Christmas tree represents, not the way our faith celebrates Christmas, but the way our culture does. What does our culture suggest we do, but prepare for weeks, maybe months, while for all the hard work those presents get opened in about 30 seconds and then its over. Our culture is all about leading us up to this grand celebration that comes, then goes – and what do we have left on the afternoon of December 25th but a trashcan full of wrapping paper? Our secular culture celebrates Christmas by anticipating – by dreaming of sugar plums - but once it’s over what do we have besides a dried-out tree to be dragged to the curb. So, to truly embody the kind of hope that we should celebrate during Christmas – maybe we need something different. Maybe we need the words of Jeremiah. “The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David…” Now Jeremiah tells us about this righteous branch right after Jerusalem was destroyed – right after the Holy City was cut down like a tree by the Babylonian army who invaded in the year 587 BCE. The invasion was so massive, so complete, that the Temple was demolished, the king deposed, and so many of the survivors shipped off to live in exile. According to the prophet, Israel was a tree – a great tree rooted in a place, among a people, nurtured by God – only to be floored by the ax of Babylon. All around him people were looking back to the past while fearing the future for what kind of future is there for a people whose nation has been reduced to rubble like a tree cut down to a stump? It’s like an empty house – that was once full of life but is now emptied of its contents, sold to the highest bidder, because divorce split the family in two. It’s like the cleaned-out desk – all the contents placed in a cardboard box because the economy slowed and brought cutbacks and layoffs and early retirements. It’s like the memories we made with the person we lost, and now the place she’s left in our lives is like a gully washed out by the rain – something’s missing. In the same way Babylon invaded Jerusalem, the siege is said to have lasted for 30 months, and when the armies finally left – what remained? Only a stump. Only a stump was left, a stump and the memory of a tree that they looked back on like old wedding pictures – an account of bygone days – memories of how good things used to be, turned bitter with the fear that now they’re only going to get worse. But as the smoke lifted and the dust settled this great prophet saw a shoot spring forth. Now there’s a symbol of hope. It’s not so unlike the Phoenix who rose from the ashes of Atlanta. While Sherman wanted her destroyed, reduced to dust to be swept away by the wind – the city rose again to become the traffic nightmare that it is today. Joking aside – if you want a symbol of hope – a symbol to represent our Jesus – look not to the tree that’s been cut down but to the stump that was left only to rise again. Because that’s how God works – that what God does when life cuts us down. When everything that was supposed to happen never did, and everything that wasn’t supposed to happen kept on happening until everything we worked for is gone and the life we’ve been building looks like an old worthless stump in the ground. When that’s the case – when that’s what life looks like to you – keep looking at that stump and just wait – for our God is in the business of bringing hope back to the hopeless. That’s Jesus. A new branch growing out from an old stump. A new baby growing inside an unmarried virgin. A hope that grows from nothing at all – but rises to rule the world. This is Christmas. Not the dried out tree drug to the curb. Not the trash can filled with crumpled paper. The righteous branch that springs up for David. And he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety. And this is the name by which it will be called: “The Lord is our righteousness.” Now, as Christmas approaches, go buy a tree to celebrate, but when it’s all over, once winter is passed and spring comes again, go out to the yard, find that Bradford Pear Tree you cut down last fall and left for dead and look at how death will not have the final word. That’s hope. That’s Christmas. New shoots rising from an old stump. That’s our Lord – persistent life even in the midst of what appears to be death. Thanks be to God. Amen.