Discovering a bit of Joy (182)
[Zephaniah 3:14-20; Luke 3:7-18]
I want to begin with part of a prayer from Thomas More. More was a 16th-century lawyer and an ardent critic of the Reformation, including our spiritual ancestors the Anabaptists. Sometimes we find wisdom in our enemies. Let us pray:
“Grant us, O Lord, good digestion, and also something to digest. Grant us healthy bodies, and the necessary good humour to maintain them. Grant us simple souls that know to treasure all that is good and that don’t frighten easily at the sight of evil . . . .”
* * *
I don’t know if you heard it, but our reading from Luke has a very contemporary ring. This is a passage about privilege.
John has barreled in from the wilderness, chased by an epiphany. He has realized that his people were abusing their privilege. Way back in the book of Genesis we learned that their ancestors were blessed in a special way with God’s presence. John believed they had let the gift sour. John’s people had become complacent in their status. So he marches in to share his epiphany. It’s this: God can use stones. Stones can fulfill the mission. God doesn’t need a special people. The people have become like a privileged tree that doesn’t produce any fruit. John tells them to get ready for the axe. Continue reading “Discovering a bit of Joy (182)”
long trek on snowshoes between two northern villages. The night was colder than they expected. They were counting on a trapper’s cabin but couldn’t find it. They set up as best they could in the snow with spruce boughs and down sleeping bags. But they couldn’t get a fire started. Match after match, they went through almost every one they had. The flame wouldn’t catch. 
In the beginning of Galatians 5—this is Paul’s description of the things the Spirit produces in our lives—we read that “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace,” and so on. There is joy coming in at number two.
After the experience was over we would gather together and talk about how things went. Most students described about grappling with fear or loneliness. The silence bothered some. I remember one student, who wasn’t particularly anxious going into the experience, sharing how he woke up in the morning to find his campsite circled by the tracks of a mountain lion. There is something unnerving about that thought: it’s the switch from thinking about the food chain to thinking of ourselves within it. It’s a very basic, very primitive feeling of vulnerability. 