Expect More

If you had a sense of déjà vu during this morning’s readings, you need not fear that holiday stress is unhinging your mind. You should have heard a repetition of words and phrases, an echo bouncing back and forth between the first reading from Isaiah and the account in Matthew’s gospel. The passages are very similar; Jesus (in Matthew) is quoting this very passage from Isaiah. It is no accident that we find these two Scripture readings on the same Sunday in our lectionary. And it is even less of an accident that Matthew is careful to tell this particular story about Jesus. Matthew was deliberately seeking to illuminate the connection between the ancient Hebrew prophecy and the person of Jesus. In many ways Jesus was not fulfilling the expectations many had of the Messiah. Evidently even John the Baptist was uncertain whether or not Jesus was the expected one. When Jesus describes his own ministry using words from Isaiah, Matthew is reminding his readers that Jesus is, in fact, fulfilling an ancient expectation.

Advent is a time of expectation and the theme of expectation and expectations is huge in this morning’s readings. Advent is a season of hopeful expectancy, but it is the issue of concrete, specific expectations that catches my interest today. In the midst of our general, broad, hopeful Advent expectancy, what are our specific expectations as we draw near to Christ’s birth? Expectations of ourselves? Of God? What initially caught my attention this week was the difference between Jesus’ words and Isaiah’s prophecy. Not the similarity, but the difference. Jesus challenges John’s disciples, for example, to note that the lame walk. Isaiah says that the lame shall leap like a deer. We cannot know precisely what Jesus said, of course, except to be sure that it was not in English, so we should probably not dwell too much on fine nuances in language. But the contrast draws my attention all the more to Isaiah. Isaiah’s language is remarkable. And Isaiah captures the spirit of Advent.

"Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy." Is that what you expect this Christmas? It is so much more than what is needed. Surely it would be wonderful if the lame were to acquire the ability to walk or to gain some sort of artificial mobility to compensate for whatever physical disability they have. And wouldn’t it be a wonderful Christmas gift if someone who could not speak were given the bare ability to communicate, to express her ideas in some way to those around her. But Isaiah says more. The tongue of the speechless shall not just somehow communicate, but sing. The lame shall not just walk, but leap. And the desert shall not just become arable, but the desert shall be glad. Isaiah is talking about so much more than just fixing what is impaired or not functional. Isaiah is talking about joy, celebration, exuberant abundance.

That is what God offers us. And it is so much greater than most of our expectations. Isaiah promises so much more than we expect to receive from the birth of God in our hearts. Our expectations of God are low. Generally, we expect so little of God.

Most of the time, we expect no more of God than we do of ourselves.

What do we expect of God? We do expect, we hope against hope, that God will perform medical miracles. But then we expect that, too, of modern medicine, of our best physicians. And much of modern medicine would have been a miracle in Jesus’ day. We expect God, we pray to God, to supply the resources (whatever those resources might be) for human fulfillment. But then we expect that of human industry and creativity as well, and we expect to gain fulfillment through our professions or our interests and activities. We expect God to guide us in the midst of life’s challenges, but if the self-help sections of bookstores are any indication, we also expect the words or wisdom of our fellow human beings to lead us through all of life’s difficult places.

We expect no more of God than we do of ourselves.

We expect God to grant us peace and hope this holy season. Yet we also expect to find peace or hope or joy with our families or through our individual traditions. Or at least we expect that we would be able to find it if we could only just try a little harder, arrange things a little better. Or if our families would only cooperate. Or if the weather or the politicians or the boss would only cooperate. Although we may not always succeed, we do expect peace to be humanly attainable, if only we can work everything out.

We expect no more of God than we do of ourselves.

Within the church, we expect God to hold the church together, to touch everyone with the Spirit’s flame so that every soul may be satisfied, inspired and spiritually enriched. We look to God to be both the rudder and the wind for this great ark. To calm all storms, to empower all ages, to provide a universal and eternal vision and also to provide tangible, individual compassion for all… but then we expect all that from our Bishops and Rectors, too.

We expect no more of God than we do of ourselves.

My point is not that we expect too much of ourselves, or of our fellow human beings. Sometimes, of course, we do. Occasionally we expect omnipotence and omniscience from mere flesh and blood. And yet, as human beings we can do much. We have the power, the opportunity, the responsibility to be good stewards of our personal gifts… to heal and guide and comfort and empower and evangelize. We should expect much of ourselves.

But we should expect even more, much more of God.

"Stir up your power, O God, and with great might come among us; and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins, let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us."

By the might of God’s power may all of the impediments in our sight be swept away; may everything that stops our hearing be unstopped. Not just physical impediments, but the impediments of sin… pride, bigotry, carelessness, covetousness… everything that blinds us to God’s presence with us. May God open our eyes and ears so that we may not just see and hear the world around us, but may perceive in our world the wonder of God’s works, and rejoice with song and dance.

God offers us more than a happy or even a merry Christmas. We are offered holiness at Christmas… the birth of holiness in the very midst of our human hearts.

God offers us more than a feeling of calm or peace during the holidays (although that would be a welcome gift). God offers us, in Christ’s birth, a share in the peace that passes human understanding. We are offered a pathway to the eternal peace of heaven.

By the might of God’s power, we are given not just satisfaction in life, but infinite abundance of blessing.

John the Baptist expected the Messiah to come and straighten out the kingdom of Israel. Jesus offered the kingdom of heaven.

This third Sunday of Advent is often called Rose Sunday; we have lit the rose colored candle on the Advent wreath. You may know that another of the names for this rose Sunday is gaudete Sunday. The Latin word gaudete is our word gaudy. No matter what the world seems to offer this day, in our lives, in our world, in the midst of winter, God offers us today a gaudy Sunday.

God gives us so much more… so much more than we ever expect.

So rejoice. Sing for joy; leap like a deer. Again I say, rejoice!

Sermon Index
Comments are welcome.  Send to krisorr@att.net