Journey's Weekly Homilies

December 14th, 2003
Third Sunday of Advent, Guadete Sunday, Cycle C
Homily by Laurie

Zephaniah 3:14-18a
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:10-18

Today the Iraqi people are dancing in the streets.  It was not the presence of coalition forces that sent them to dancing, but a new hope for freedom. Today came the knowledge that their oppressor would not again raise up to silence their voices, to make of a strong people, a cowering dog, hoping for scraps from the table of Sadam and the Bathist party. They gather and dance and make loud singing, with voices, with car horns and with guns turned skyward, away from the fear around them in and their hearts, towards hope, towards peace and some might say towards God.     

Today is also Guadete Sunday, a day in the midst of our longing for God’s reign, when we stop to remember the promises of the prophet Zephaniah.  Sing aloud, rejoice and exalt.  Do not fear; let not your hands grow weak. God is in our midst, rejoicing with gladness.  We will be renewed in our love. God will exalt over us with loud singing. I am guessing those words have more meaning for the Iraqis then they might for us this night. 

We can admire the poetry of Zephaniah, we can imagine how our hearts might swell with hope and love, but for me at least those promises are bound by resignation, by all that has gone before us in history. God so moved by human singing that the silent invisible one sings back at us. That is a God worthy of hope and belief.  It is not the God I have made room for in my heart.  I wonder if it is the God we have made room for in the church, or even this assembly 

There are times, moments, when we are gathered that I know God stands in our midst singing out to us with grace and spirit that sets our hearts free, that allows our spirits to soar in hope, believing in this God who sings and dances freely and for all to see. I know too there are times when we turn our backs on one another, when we feel put upon, asked to do too much by this community of believers, much less this God who asks of us much more than mere praise, but who asks also that we share all that we have with those who have none. Who asks that we bring integrity and justice to all that we are.  

John makes it clear that bringing integrity and justice to all that we are is straight forward and concrete. If you have two cloaks give one away.  If you are a soldier, do not use violence to rob. Be content with your wages. If a tax collector, assess no more from people than you have been appointed to do so. 

What might John say to us about our work?  If you are nurse don’t hold back your compassion from those you deem not worthy.  If you are a teacher, teach with enthusiasm and love.  If you are a salesperson, do not present your product as more valuable that it is. Do not over charge people for product or service.  If you are in a position of leadership, don’t hold yourself above others. If you have more than you need of anything, than share it.  What might John say to each of us if we approached him?  What might he say about this assemble of believers?  Would we draw his scorn drawing upon our mere association with Christianity or would we fall with the heavier grains of wheat and be gathered up, or be burnt with the chaff? 

Is there room in our hearts and in this assembly for the God who sings back at us in every key and tongue?  Can we live Guadete, with joy and forbearance?  What would set us dancing in the streets, singing loudly to this God, who is peace beyond understanding?