"You Brood of Vipers"

(Luke 3:7-18) – John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bear fruits worthy of repentance. 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. Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire."

And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?" In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?" He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." 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."

As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 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 thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."
_______________________________________________________________________

The Lights of the Ozarks shine each night. Holiday music fills our air. People are decorating their homes and throwing parties. We're wearing bright clothes and holiday cheer is in the air. And we come to church to hear: "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?" What's up? Somebody doesn't seem to have the holiday spirit. How many Christmas cards have you received with an image of a gaunt, grizzle-bearded man in desert rags, saying "Season's Greetings from us and John the Baptist: 'You brood of vipers! The axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Merry Christmas!"

The church does this to us every year. The church insists that you can't get to the joyous birth at Bethlehem without going through the fiery prophet in the desert. Every Advent, in the midst of the exuberance that marks this time of year, the wisdom of the church throws John the Baptist at us.

John makes us uncomfortable. John cuts through the conversational niceties and gets to the hard truth. And people traveled from their Jerusalem comforts to hear him. People went into the wilderness to hear something unavailable in cosmopolitan Jerusalem, someone who speaks the truth.

It's risky to open yourself to deep truth. John's probing is like a surgeon's knife cutting into a tumor, or a skilled analyst penetrating our psychological defenses, or an honest friend telling you what no one else will.

There were good people who went out to hear John – nice people like us. He told them, "Do not be presumptuous before God. God sees through your pretensions. God is not impressed with your unearned privilege of place and status. God can create Episcopalians out of these rocks in the ground."

There were bad people who went out to hear John – sinners and tax collectors and prostitutes. People like us. And they heard him tell them, "I baptize you with water. You are washed clean. Start over fresh and pure. Begin again, and this time, be honest; don't cheat; share your good fortune with others."

Like every great prophet, John afflicted the comfortable and comforted the afflicted.

If you could endure the tirade about vipers and axes and fire – if you didn't leave but stuck around for the question and answer period, you would have heard some pretty straightforward advice. After the stormy sermon of fierce apocalyptic was over, people asked him, "What should we do?" John gave them specific, mundane ethical instruction. "Be generous. Be very generous. If you've got two coats give one of them away. Same thing with food."

The tax collectors asked, "What shall we do?" "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you," he told them. The soldiers asked, "What shall we do?" "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusations, and be satisfied with your wages."

I think it helps to know that in those days tax collecting and soldiering were unacceptable livelihoods for Jews. Their reputations would be comparable to today's prostitutes, or mafia thugs. The expected answer for a tax collector or soldier would have been, "Stop doing what you are doing! Change jobs! Get a real job; a moral job." In the Roman Empire, telling a tax collector, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you," is like telling a prostitute, "Don't rob from your customer's wallet."

This hard bitten, righteous prophet, who exposes sin and cries for repentance, is remarkably gentle on these outcasts. In fact, he's downright soft on these marginalized, semi-criminal types. Amazing. How rough he is on us good, upstanding Episcopalians, and how easy on the shameful.

John is a cold, sobering wet-rag to our Christmas preparations – exposing our pretensions, calling us good-folks presumptuous and proud. Challenging us, saying, "You're not so good as you think. Turn around. Look at your selfishness. Look at your pride. You can do better. You'd better do better. Be humble. Be generous. Be very generous. Or else!"

In so many ways, John's sermon is right on message with the words Jesus would speak some time later. Jesus also urged us to repent, and challenged us to forsake pride and to be generous. Like John, Jesus was harshest with those who were most confident of their own goodness, the presumptuous and privileged. Jesus also afflicted the comfortable and comforted the afflicted.

But there is one big difference. Motivation. John motivated with threats and fear. "Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire." Change or be destroyed. Do good or burn. John anticipated that the coming Messiah would raise the same message, only with exponentially greater threat. "I baptize you with water... He will baptize you with Holy Spirit and fire." John's expectations for the Messiah: "His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."

But that's not what happened. When Jesus came, he preached the same moral expectations as John – be humble, be generous, be honest – but the motivation for such good behavior was not threat or fear. It was love. God loves you, Jesus said. God loves you with a divine heart. God loved you first, so love God back. And then, let that flow out. Love yourself. Love your neighbor as yourself. It's all about love.

No ax. No winnowing fork. No fire. Instead of creating threats and fear, Jesus soaked up the threats and fear into his own body on the cross, and gave back only love. Forgiving love. Perfect love, which alone can cast out fear.

You may remember another story – when John was in prison and sent to ask of Jesus, "Are you the one?" It was a sincere question. After all, Jesus wasn't chopping and winnowing and burning. Jesus answered, "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me." It was all about love. Healing love; forgiving love.

We are on the way to the manger. But before we get there, the church expects us to face a bit of tough love in the wilderness. Let John the Baptist get your attention. Answer his questions. How are you being presumptuous, self-centered, indulgent or prideful? How are you ignoring the poor or participating in systems that oppress the weak? Repent! Chop those snakes out of your life and burn them up. Begin again, and this time be honest; don't cheat; share your good fortune with others.

In your wilderness make a path. A path for a baby. The path of love. Prepare a place in your heart, by thoughts and deeds of generous goodness. Prepare a place in our world, by acts of justice and generosity.

You brood of vipers! God loves you so much.