Do The Good That is Your to Do

“Do the Good That Is Yours to Do”

December 15, 2024

Luke 3:7-16 | Isaiah 58:9b-12

Third Sunday of Advent

Luke 3:7-16

7 John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? 8 Therefore, bear fruits worthy of repentance, and do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.”

10 And the crowds asked him, “What, then, should we do?” 11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” 13 He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”

15 As the people were filled with expectation and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah,[a] 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water, but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the strap of his sandals. He will baptize you with[b] the Holy Spirit and fire.

Isaiah 58:9b-12

Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;    you shall cry for help, and he will say, “Here I am.”

If you remove the yoke from among you,    the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,10 if you offer your food to the hungry    and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,then your light shall rise in the darkness    and your gloom be like the noonday.11 The Lord will guide you continually    and satisfy your needs in parched places    and make your bones strong,and you shall be like a watered garden,    like a spring of water    whose waters never fail.12 Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;    you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;you shall be called the repairer of the breach,    the restorer of streets to live in.

We’ve got a lot of famous characters in Advent.  Mary and the angel Gabriel.  Pregnant Elizabeth to whom Mary runs after she herself becomes pregnant.  And then we have the person Elizabeth is pregnant with, the one and only John the Baptist.  The timeline jumps around a bit here because it was only last week when Elizabeth was pregnant with John and then this week we hear a grown up John speaking passionately to a crowd.  

It's easy to get hung up on some of John’s saltiness.  Most effective communicators don’t begin their speeches with: You brood of vipers! What even is a viper?  I looked it up and it’s not good.  Yet, this is classic John the Baptist material from a man who dressed in camel fur and ate bugs.  It might be easy to write him off as one of the Advent characters who we hear about every year and just have to chuckle, oh it’s John again.  Must be Advent.  

But let’s put his eccentricities aside for a moment and look at how closely his words today hit home for us right now.  He’s talking to a crowd of people and telling them that they aren’t getting it.  All around them there is selfishness.  People are hoarding more and more in front of people who have nothing. There is economic disparity and greedy, dishonest people who abuse their power.  The systems are broken.  And many in the crowd are complicit in some way by either participating in the broken systems or standing by and letting them happen.  They are on the wrong path.  They think they can get off the hook by calling themselves children of Abraham, as if saying your religious is the same thing as acting in good faith.

And so it was in the middle of that dumpster fire of a world that the people stood around this eccentric, wild man and said: “Ok, fine. What, then, should we do?”   This question isn’t asked once, but it’s asked three times.  And each time John’s answer to each group is slightly different, but ultimately the same: “Do the good that is yours to do.”

I think so often we are taught that to fix big problems we need a hero.  That we’ll patiently wait until the right person is picked for the job and then we’ll watch them do that job and then we’ll clap.  This is the narrative that’s given to us in almost every movie we’ve ever seen.  And, here’s the thing:  it’s the narrative given to us in history class and documentaries, too.  Big problems are solved with big heros.  

I recently watched a fascinating TED talk by David LaMotte called “Why Heroes Don’t Change the World” contends that all of the movies and storylines around us from the cinema to the evening news to the documentaries and history classes present changing the world as something that is done by a hero who steps in at just the right moment.  He talks about how in reality, change almost never happens that way.  It’s less about singular heroes moving the needle and more about movements of people working together that bring change.  I’d like to show you a clip.  You can forward to minute 2:52 and listen until 9:46 for the short version, but the full version is worth a listen too.

We don’t tell movement stories.  We tell hero stories because it’s more fun to watch the world be changed by one person who has what it takes.  But the honest truth is in reality it never works that way.  The way the world actually changes is through little actions that are often mundane and unglamorous.  Working on a committee.  Meeting regularly with others to make a plan and follow through.  Making photo copies.  Filling food pantry shelves. Visiting the sick in the hospital.  Checking people out at the thrift shop and making connections over the things they’ve found.  Adding to a compost pile instead of a landfill.  Running after someone who dropped a mitten.  Showing up at a rally as an ally.  Standing up for someone or a group of someones who’s being bullied online or in person.   

John the Baptist achieved kind of a hero status in his day.  People thought he was the one who would save them.  But what he said again and again is that it’s us who must build a movement and it’s toward Christ’s beloved community that our movement moves.  John’s advice resonates with the words found in Isaiah 58, where the prophet calls us to be the “repairers of the breach, the restorers of streets to dwell in.” We aren’t called to wait for the hero to come.  Changing the world doesn’t happen in the ballot box.  It happens out here in the world where tiny decisions made every day form a ground swell of change.  Building the world Jesus would want to see with our ordinary actions: feeding the hungry, serve the oppressed, and comfort the afflicted. Isaiah knew that 800 years before Christ and it’s not any less true today.  It’s about the cumulative power of small acts that weave together to create a fabric of communal flourishing.

Yesterday when I found out the furnace wouldn’t be fixable until sometime during the week, we’re hoping, I was really discouraged.  On a cold weekend when we have five events happening throughout the weekend, this is the weekend furnace gives up?   

And so I found every space heater we have in the church.  Space heaters are a gamble.  Partly because you want to be really careful with where they sit and how they’re used.  But also, like the size of this thing compared with the enormity of the space in this room.  It’s almost laughable.  And then there’s the circuits.  Too much all at once wasn’t sustainable and we’ve found my way to ever breaker box in the building within the last 24 hours as proof.

But here’s the other thing.  One heater wouldn’t have been enough.  And 10 heaters would have blown the circuits.  But five heaters, each doing what they could in different ways provided enough steady heat to keep this enormous room at the same temperature that is manageable.  It’s not perfect, but it’s something. 

Joy can be like that.  The enormity of the world’s problems feels impossible.  And joy is an antidote.  The third Sunday of Advent is when we light the pink candle, the joy candle.  It’s when we think about God’s incarnation among us like a pink flower blooming in the midst of a cold winter.  It’s surprising.  It’s disruptive to broken systems.  And because of that, it’s an antidote.  A catalyst. Joy is an act of rebellion in a world that, honestly, profits off our despair and longing.  

But the way you figure out how to put a little joy into the world will look different than the way I do.  Maybe you have two coats to give.  Maybe you could practice being satisfied more often.  Maybe you could put work into healing an old wound.  Maybe you’re called to make copies for the boycott.  Maybe it’s you who will ring a bell for justice when you witness something you cannot abide.  

Each of us in our own small ways don’t fix the world just as one space heater won’t heat this sanctuary.  But when we each do what we can in a steady, reliable way, the world changes.  

I want to close with this image.  It’s a piece of Depression-era cross stitch my Grandmother has on her wall.  It was stitched by one of her sisters in school.  It has always struck a chord with me.  “I am only one but I am one.  I can’t do everything but I can do something. What I can do I ought to do.  What I ought to do by the grace of God I will do.” 

So much courage.  So much resolute joy. 

What is yours to do?  What small thing can you do today to ring a bell of justice, to practice joy as an act of rebellion against the tyranny of hate, to bring pink into a world of gray.  The world doesn’t need heros.  The world needs us to move toward the One who invites us into the work and labors alongside us.  We are invited to do the good that we can do.  No more, no less.  

Grace and Peace,

Pastor Anna