Prophet of Light

Malachi 3:1-4 and Luke 1:68-79

We continue our Advent practice of actively waiting, preparing for the birth of Christ, for salvation, love, mercy, and divine justice to enter the world once again and one day forevermore. That Christmas is coming is becoming more real with each day. We may hope for happy gatherings, delicious food, entertaining gifts, and overall good feelings. But our scriptures and songs cry out for more than holiday cheer: the prophet Malachi cries out for divine justice, and today, we hear of the birth of the prophet of the Most High, John, who has come to prepare the way of Jesus—to offer repentance and forgiveness and salvation that we might all be ready to behold Jesus when he comes.

John’s parents are Zechariah and Elizabeth. They are good, solid folks. Zechariah is a priest and Elizabeth is descended from Aaron who served as priest for Moses. The book of Luke notes that both people are righteous and live blamelessly according to all of the commandments and regulations of the Lord. Their one source of shame is that they do not have any children. Elizabeth is barren and both have gotten on in years. They are not unlike many couples in the Bible who cannot have children and yet manage, by the grace of God, to give birth to children who will go on to greatness. People like Abraham and Sarah, Jacob and Rachel, even Mary and Joseph fall into this category of conceiving under rather unusual circumstances. This preference of God’s, to acquire great leaders out of impossible reproductive conditions tells us something important about God: that God isn’t concerned with our pesky rules of biology, that nothing, in deed, is impossible for God. These are stories of hope for people not only fighting for a child, but also for anyone who is facing an impossible situation.

And so we have this couple who fit this recognizable motif—they are righteous and deserving, but are still waiting to have a child. Then one day, the priest Zechariah, is in the temple, offering incense to the Lord when the angel Gabriel appears to him. And tells him that he and Elizabeth will have a son who will be a great prophet, right along the lines of Elijah, who will help the people return to righteousness. But like Sarah who laughs at the thought of having a child at her age, Zechariah doesn’t totally believe this glorious being in front of him and expresses his doubt. As a punishment for his disbelief, Gabriel takes Zechariah’s ability to speak away from him until after the baby is born.

After nine months of silence, Zechariah’s first words are a Holy Spirit filled prophesy: first of a savior and then future of his own son, who will become a prophet who will prepare the way for the savior, to enlighten people in the ways of salvation and forgiveness because dawn will soon break, giving light to all of those who have sat in darkness and in the shadow of death, that we may all be guided into the way of peace.

Advent is like Lent, in that it is a time of darkness, preparation, and searching. The way of peace, is a way out of that darkness, but it’s a difficult concept. The Christmas phrase “Peace on earth” always carries a hint of irony. Every year there’s enough stuff happening in the world to remind us of how we have not achieved peace on earth. With bombings in Pakistan, the need for more troops in Afghanistan, it’s not likely that we’ll reach peace in 2009.

It’s easy to fall into disillusionment, especially this time of year. Jesus has already been born, over two thousand years ago and nothing has really changed. Jesus has come, is coming soon, and will come again—but it’s easy to take a look around and wonder if that really matters. And then there’s the darker underbelly to the entire Christmas season, especially for those who feel alienated from the forced cheer of the season, those who’ve lost family members, those who are fighting illness, those who’s children no longer speak to them and on and on. Sometimes there isn’t much to be happy about and holidays make it even worse. And it’s easy, in the face of so much personal and global dissatisfaction, to blame God.

The prophet Malachi notes that the priests are presenting offerings and the people are praying, but they have no hope, no spirit. They question God: claiming that all who do evil are good in the eyes of the Lord and God delights in them” and by asking “where is the God of justice?” Malachi speaks of God’s displeasure with humanity, of our continual faithlessness and how it has actually made God weary. Out of tiredness and disillusionment, God tells Malachi that the Lord will come to the temple, to cleanse and refine and purify the people so that they will be righteous instead of a faithless bunch of doubters. God may be weary of the people, but the people, it seems, are also weary of God. God asks, “when I send my messenger, who will be able to endure his presence?” This cleansing and purifying is a painful process—a good scrubbing with a rough sponge, to scrape away all impurities and doubts.

Like Zechariah, we do not believe the miracles in front of us. We wearily trudge through our own dark valleys, sending God our prayers and our offerings, and for what? Do we believe that God rewards the wicked? Do we wonder if there is any divine justice in the world? As we prepare for the continual birth of Christ, have we given into the idea that things will never change?

In the face of such impossibility, it is important to remember the births of John and Jesus, events that even their parents even have trouble believing. It’s important to remember the ongoing, though seemingly slow, redemptive work of God in our lives and in our world. If peace and justice seem absent in our world, perhaps we need to remember our own roles in perpetuating strife and injustice.

When God takes on all of humanity and becomes a human being that is the ultimate act of trust and inspiration. If God were completely disillusioned with humankind, God would not have become incarnate with us. God would not have become something that God didn’t have value or hope in. In Jesus, God shows us God’s confidence and faith in us.

Jesus comes to show us the way, to announce peace, to shine light, sure that we will be able to see this light and follow, as long as we are willing to avail ourselves. John comes as a prophet, to proclaim the way of this light who can shine through our disillusionment and despair . One who will shine a light in the darkness, one who will not let us hide in our holes of despair, but will confront us with the breaking dawn of a new day.

As we prepare for such light—light that may even be painful to our eyes—may our prayers be daring and bold, may we pray for peace on earth, with the expectation that it will be so.

In the name of Jesus, our light, our way, and our savior. Amen.