PEOPLE'S CHURCH OF DOVER

Mark 1:1-8                                                                             I Stand Amazed

Advent II Sermon Dec. 7, 2008:  People's UCC, Dover, DE:  The Rev. Dan Griggs

 

            This Second Sunday of Advent thrusts us into the muddy waters of the Jordan River with John the Baptist preaching sermons calling the people of God to get ready for something that inspires awe.  But his greatest point is this last paragraph in the Gospel Lesson:[1]

 

 

What feeling did this announcement stir in the hearts of the people?  "Someone is going to come!"  "He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."  If there's any real "magic in the air" during Advent, it happens right here.  This promise, whispered across twenty centuries of war, oppression, plague and storm (the "four horsemen of the Apocalypse")—this promise echoes across the millennia in our ears also and sets up a small lifting of the heart that grows into something akin to excitement.  Who is coming?  Why was John unworthy to stoop and serve him?  We stand amazed!

 

            In our life-time we have witnessed the explosion of some exciting new religions.  In South America and Africa thousands of new Pentecostal churches have sprung up, many of them in the slums of the great cities—Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires, Mexico City, Johannesburg, Kinshasa, Dar es Salaam.  The preacher of one of these churches attracts not hundreds but tens of thousands of people every year with a gospel of wealth, power and victory.  In Guatemala the military leaders joined these churches and used them to support a military dictatorship.  We can see the echoes of this movement even here in Delaware—the hundreds of little store-front churches are giving way to new, prosperous-looking buildings where the services are in Spanish.  African Christian missionaries are now working in Delaware to re-establish Christianity here.  And what these preachers and missionaries bring to the people is a particular experience of spirit.  That's how the ancient Judeans felt when they heard John the Baptist.

            We have also seen a lot of Asian religions come to America:  the Hare Krishna movement, Beat Zen, that other form of Islam called Sufism.  Among American Jews there has been an upsurge of interest in Cabala—medieval Jewish mysticism.  Tibetan Buddhism, Vietnamese Buddhism and the philosophy of Taoism are all around us.  What draws so many Americans to Asian religions?  It's that particular experience of spirit:  something is happening inside that turns people's hearts.  That's how the ancient Judeans felt when they heard John the Baptist.

            Then there is a long list of new spiritualities that are home-grown:  goddess worship, Gnosticism, occultist groups, shamanism, Wicca, a generalized Native American spirituality, Eckankar, crystal power, and the followers of Carlos Castaneda—and I've only begun to list them all.  What's this about?  Why are so many people entering the spiritual paths of one or more of these spiritualities?  It's that feeling—that experience of spirit they find there.  That's how the ancient Judeans felt when they heard John the Baptist.

            So in the first eight verses of the Gospel of Mark, what happens is that experience of spirit.  The beginning of the book is as abrupt as its ending:  all of a sudden, right in front of your eyes there is spirit.  It surrounds you, awakens you, invites you to dance.  This is Christianity's spiritual explosion, and we stand amazed. 

            We are grasped by a feeling of deep wonder:  "Someone is coming!"  "He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit!"  This is the proper use of the word "awe"—this deep wonder, this amazement at the experience of spirit. 

 

            I believe that the greatest proof that Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah was then and is now this experience of wonder—the perception that somehow when Jesus is present God has showed up.  We see this happen again and again in the Gospels.  One day Jesus taught the people as he was standing in a boat.  When he finished preaching he told the owner, Simon, to row out into deep water and cast his net.  Simon said that they had been fishing all night and caught nothing, but he did it anyway; and the net caught so many fish he had to call his brother's boat to come help him draw it to shore.  Everybody there was surprised.  Then Simon turned to Jesus—the man he knew had come from Nazareth, a carpenter who spoke with a golden tongue—Simon turned to him, knelt down and said, "Sir, don't come near me!  I am a sinner."[2]  What's going on here?  Not just surprise—a lot more than surprise.  Simon confesses his sins:  you say that to God!  He knew that Jesus was a carpenter from Nazareth, and yet when Jesus was present God had showed up.  Simon knelt in awe.  In some way he was experiencing spirit radiating from Jesus; and Simon knew who he was.  He stood amazed. 

            After Jesus' death and burial, the little group that had been close to him had that same experience of spirit.  One of the twelve, Thomas, had been absent when it happened, and they told him that they had seen Jesus alive.  Thomas was a common-sense kind of man, so he said, "I won't say you're lying, but I have to see for myself the nail prints in his hands, the spear gash in his side."  Seven days later Thomas was present with the others, and it happened again:  Jesus stood among them and greeted them.  Then Jesus said to Thomas, "Come touch my hands.  Come feel my side.  Stop doubting and have faith."  What happened next was not just some kind of surprise:  it was this experience of spirit in Jesus' presence.  Thomas answered, "You are my Lord and my God!"[3]  He stood amazed. 

            That's exactly what John the Baptist describes in the Lesson:  "Someone more powerful is going to come.  And I am not good enough even to stoop down and untie his sandals."  "… he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."  This is the experience of spirit:  when Jesus is present, even in our own time, God has showed up.  It is a compelling experience, a feeling that overwhelms our work-a-day common sense about life and morals and what works.  There really is more than what we can make happen, and that more flows from the approach of the Divine among us.  We stand amazed. 

 

            In just a few minutes we're going to sing a song, I'm going to uncover the plates of bread and the flagon of wine that are on the Communion Table, and we're going to share in a formal prayer of thanksgiving—a Eucharistic prayer.  In that prayer we'll remember the spirit experience of people who have gone before us, we'll touch again the presence of Jesus for ourselves, and we'll open our souls to receive what God has for us today.  Today we will also have available the anointing of oil and prayers for healing—seeking a blessing that can bring us to wholeness of body, mind and spirit.  What's going on here?  What's this ritual really about?  It's about the experience of spirit.  We are called forward to Christ's High Table of Memory and Hope so that we, too, may stand amazed.  For as John said, "He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit." 

            It's not an emotion:  it's a fact.  It's not a demonstration:  it's a receiving.  And it changes us.  This is how we can get ready for Christmas.   We stand amazed.

AMEN