St. Thomas Evangelical Lutheran Church

3800 East Third Street

Bloomington, Indiana 47401

(812) 332-5252


Sermon for the First Sunday in Advent (December 3, 2006)

Liturgical Color: Blue

Reverend Doctor Lyle McKee


"Signs"

Grace to you and peace from our loving God, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, in the hopeful presence of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

When I read the gospel text for today, I wanted to sing the old popular song from my high school days:

Signs. Signs. Everywhere the signs.

Blockin' out the scenery; bendin' my mind.

"Do this." "Don't do that."

Can't you read the sign?! (1970, Five Man Electrical Band)

This day is about reading the signs of the times, which may or may not be an easy task.

I confess that on my day off, on Friday, I watched a bit of "Ellen" on television. A fellow on the show used an image that helps with this business of reading signs.

He asked the audience, "Have you ever seen the arrow in the "FedEx" logo?" Have any of you?

Well, here is it. Do you see it?

If you don't, look between the second "E" and the "x."

I often speak of the gospel as calling us to see beyond what is obvious—to see not with, but through the eye.

In the closing weeks of the liturgical year just ended, we have heard about the end-times from the gospel of Mark last week. Now, as we begin with the year of Luke, we start with a similar set of ideas. But, of course, we are preparing our hearts and souls to be surprised by news we already know. We are trying to envision a way of preparation that permits us not yet to see what we know will come—the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ in Bethlehem at Christmas.

What strange and wonderful things our worship calls us to do!

Today, we begin to see signs. Our hopes are not based upon pure conjecture; they are founded in signposts that God grants us on our journey.

This, it seems to me, is welcome news. Signs are something with which we are very familiar. We see them along the road—guiding, directing, giving information, cautioning. We see them along the street—inviting our investment, tantalizing our taste buds, letting us know what kind of establishment lies behind the entrance. We see them in our lives. An ache in the stomach alerts us to problems with something we ate. The aches in the knees mark an injury or the creakiness of age. The swelling of the abdomen may signal the immanent arrival of a child.

We recognize and know how to read a multitude of symbols and signs. They are all around us, sometimes to our dismay, sometimes to our delight.

This season—the season of Advent—is a season of signs. It is a season of seeing and hearing about things which indicate the existence of something else—of pointers to a reality and a day beyond the marker itself.

Luke records Jesus speaking about many signs, in case you didn't notice. These are signs that don't sound all that promising, I admit, but they are signs nonetheless. Hear again some of what has already been read:

There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see "the Son of Man coming in a cloud" with power and glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.

After telling the parable of the fig tree and inviting us to recognize the coming of God's kingdom, Jesus then says a rather strange thing:

Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life, and that day catch you unexpectedly, like a trap...Be alert...

First Jesus scares us out of our skins. Then he tells us not to be weighed down with the worries of this life. It sounds crazy. Indeed, it is the kind of things that we associate with people who are seriously mentally ill—those who have hallucinations, loose associations, or paranoid ideation.

How are we to make sense out of signs that are contradictory? What lesson is there in exhortations that point us in different directions?

The answer lies under the fact that Jesus has the boldness to tell the truth. He speaks of a time of perplexity at the signs in nature. And he tells of the sprouting of the fig leaf as a sign of life that springs forth in stark contrast to the dead of winter.

The truth is that life is hard to read. Life is filled with contradictions and perplexities and paradoxes. It is perhaps especially in those times when life leaves us feeling hopelessly lonely and our arrogant independence provides little or no comfort or answers, that there can spring forth, like a fig leaf—or, in our context, a crocus—at the end of winter, new life.

Despair and hope go hand in hand. The gospel's merger of the full despair of reality and the unbridled hope of faith is the message of the Gospel. In the midst of this life and the many events that evoke despair, it is the seed of hope in a bright future, a future in which God is made manifest, that provides a sense of confident faith. Faith is not a vaccine that prevents the disease of despair. Faith is the seed of new life from which hope can grow out of a winter of anguish and desolation. And this is the message of the signs of Advent. (adapted from John E. Colón, "The Final Advent of God," Sermons That Work)

Fear is the obstacle. Yes, troubles will come; the signs are everywhere. But, don't get weighed down with worry. You will miss the opportunities that come your way.

There were three women in Ghana, in West Africa, who wanted children and had tried to get pregnant and had not been successful. As a last resort, they decided to go to a local medicine man to see if he could help them. He told them that he could help them get pregnant but there was a "Catch 22" attached to his medicine. All of the women asked with one voice what the "Catch 22" was, and the medicine man answered that they would go mad when they gave birth so they needed to consider very carefully whether they still wanted the medicine.

The three women went out and thought about what they had heard for a while and they came back to the medicine man. Two of them decided that they wanted the medicine. But the third woman said that there was no need for her to give birth if she wasn't going to be able to enjoy her baby. So the man gave the medicine to the two women who wanted it.

Sure enough, in due time the two women who took the medicine became pregnant and gave birth to beautiful babies. They waited for months to see if they would lose their minds, but nothing happened. So they went back to the medicine man and asked, "When are we going to go crazy?"

The medicine man asked them if they were not already crazy, and they said "No." Then their children started to wiggle in their arms and both women began shaking their bodies to keep the babies quiet, and the medicine man started to laugh, asking, "Who's playing music that you are both dancing?" They looked at him in a very funny way and said, "We're trying to keep the babies quiet." Then the medicine man said, "That is your craziness; when you have children, that is what happens to you, you dance or shake your body in public without shame or idea that you are acting crazy."

When the third woman heard the story she returned to the medicine man and said she wanted to have a baby if that was the only craziness he was talking about—but it was too late! Her fear had prevented her from having her deepest desire. (Rev. Sr. Rosina A. Ampah, OSH, Worship That Works)

The signs abound. We know our deepest desire. All that is required is that we not give in to fear, that we are not distracted by distant rumblings in the mountains or contradictory messages, that we stand firm and endure the encounters that go with the coming of the redeeming Lord.

Look at the world and what is happening in it; and let your faith help you understand that there is a God who cares despite some evidence to the contrary—that God will not let us wallow in sin or uncertainty without redemption. Fear not. Open your heart to the coming of Christ. Lift up your heads and your hearts, for your redemption is drawing near.

Even so, come, Lord Jesus! Amen!

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord, unto eternal life.  Amen.




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