Homily for the Second Sunday of Advent

The Prince of Peace by Michael McGrath: Bee Still Studio
(Thanks to commenter ned for the tip on this graphic!)

Homily for the Second Sunday of Advent
Isaiah 11:1-10
Romans 15:4-9
Matthew 3:1-12

Well, it’s gray out there this morning.
And cold.
And the weather report says there’s a good chance of snow tonight.

(to music director)

Jim, I think that’s a song cue!

(homilist)

ØI’m dreaming of a white Christmas
just like the ones I used to know;
when the treetops glisten and children listen
to hear sleigh bells in the snow.Ø

Would you all join me?

(all)

ØI’m dreaming of a white Christmas
with every Christmas card I write.
May your days be merry and bright,
and may all your Christmases be white.Ø

Nice song…
but what a SCRAWNY, PIDDLING, TRIVIAL dream THAT is!

Snow… shiny tree tops… and sleigh bells…
Things that melt, shed needles and rust!

Is this what Christians dream in Advent? at Christmas?

How about a real dream?
A dream of a swashbuckling hero who comes to slay the wicked,
with justice for the poor and afflicted,
and his hips belted ‘round with faithfulness?
How about dreaming of the peacemaker of all time?

What kind of peace? Dream THIS!
Dream a peace that pervades all of nature such that
- a lamb will invite a wolf out for dinner;
- a leopard and a kid goat will go down for a nap together;
- a lion and an ox will nosh on hay;
- a calf and a lion will go for a walk, with a child to guide them;
- cows will pasture with bears;
- and a cobra’s den will be a baby’s play pen, with no fear of harm.

Perhaps it’s history and pride and stubbornness
-and sometimes an apparent preference for war-
that keep us from dreaming of such a peace.
But this is precisely the kind of peace
the Lord will look for and establish on earth when he comes again;
the kind of peace we are called to dream and make among ourselves
if we understand anything of the reign of Christ’s peace among us.

It’s not easy for us to dream
such a peaceable kingdom among the animals;
or to dream that all nations, all faiths might live together in peace;
or to dream of peace between us and whoever it is
(spouse, parent, child, sibling, neighbor, colleague)
between us and whoever it is
from whom we’re separated or alienated,
by whom we’ve been forgotten or abandoned,
to whom we don’t speak - or only speak of – and then, only unkindly so.

Isaiah dreams a peace that changes everything,
that makes friends of enemies – even natural ones.
He dreams a peace that brings together
those who refuse to acknowledge each other.
He dreams a peace in which there is
NO - MORE - HARM on all God’s holy mountain.

And us?
We’re dreaming of snow and tree tops and bells…
a scrawny, piddling, trivial dream, not even worth dozing off for…

Advent calls us to dream and to work towards
what may seem unimaginable: to dream the impossible dream.
And while you and I might not get the wolf and the lamb
to share a table at Serafina,
we can dream and work towards:
an end to war;
the reconciling old family and neighborhood estrangements;
the letting go of old hurts, grudges and resentments;
the restoration of trust and confidence in the Church;
and being at peace with God
in whatever ways you or I might need to reconcile with the Lord.

Perhaps the saddest sin of believers
is to stop dreaming the peace Christ promises and calls us to make.

Even if Irving Berlin had written a song of Isaiah’s dream
and Bing Crosby had sung it,
it wouldn’t have sold very many records
because it’s a dream that asks so much of us,
some would say it asks TOO much of us
and walk away from a dream-deemed-impossible.

I’ll remind you, then, of another dream.
A dream in which God visits his people, born as a child in Bethlehem;
a dream in which the child grows up to be a preacher of dreams:
dreams of love and mercy, dreams of healing and peace.
But the dream asked a lot of the preacher – asked everything of him -
and he gave everything he had for peace he promised.

And even this morning the God-child-man-preacher-dreamer
comes again, inviting us, the unfaithful wolves,
to the Supper of the Lamb.
But the Supper, the Eucharist, is no dream. It is very real.
It is the dreamed peace shared with us in the Bread of Life,
poured out for us in the Cup of Salvation.
The dream is our food, meant to rouse us,
and nourish within us dreams so much more important
so much more beautiful than a white Christmas.

-Concord Pastor