December 13, 2015
Text: Luke 3:7-18
... 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.” So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.
So, what is the good news here? That Jesus is coming with his winnowing fork, to separate the wheat from the chaff? That sounds pretty threatening and ominous. Is that John’s intention? To scare people into repentance? Into sharing what they have? What do you think?
Winnowing image
Unless you grew up on a farm, the image of Jesus with a winnowing fork probably has little meaning for you. In some parts of the Third World, you might have seen women tossing cracked wheat or rice into the air, so the wind will blow away the hulls and leave the heavier grains behind. It’s a process of separating the outer hull from the inner grain. John’s audience would have known that it’s not a sinister or judgmental activity. It’s simply a process of separating the hard shell of protection that’s no longer needed, from the inner kernel that will be nourishing when cooked and eaten.
This winnowing process is something we all need to do in order to find what is truly nourishing and beneficial for the next stage of our lives. Elizabeth O’Connor called it “hulling the heart.” In her last book, Cry Pain/Cry Hope, she wrote about a dream that she had, in which the hard outer casing of her heart was being cracked open, so that the warm beating heart of love and connection could embrace her call to Sarah’s Circle.
She admitted that she had hardened her heart against that call because it would mean a lifetime of fundraising – and she didn’t want to do it. And yet, I remember that when she began to embrace that call, her joints loosened and she recovered mobility from the mysterious ailment which had crippled her for nearly ten years.
I would say that this winnowing process is the work of aging, of reflection and renewal. It’s no surprise that Elizabeth O’Connor wrote about “hulling the heart” in her last book and not her first. It’s the work of maturing Christians. I do hope you will pick up a copy of Cry Pain/Cry Hope at the Potter’s House and read it again – or for the first time. Although she does not speak about Jesus with a winnowing fork in his hand, she could have.
In this season of Advent, I sense Jesus at work in my own life and in our community, separating wheat from chaff, inviting us to let go of old protective covers and embracing emerging joy that runs, like an underground river, thru it all.
Repentance
But John the Baptist is right – we must clear away obstacles before Jesus can do that winnowing work. The first step is to practice fairness and awareness in our dealings with each other.
John begins by calling out the “brood of vipers” who apparently assume that they can cut corners and forget the needy because of their special relationship with God. I hear it all the time in our political debates, and John would have been clear in his critique. Listen closely to what different religious leaders are saying, and let John’s gimlet eye become your own. Hear John’s voice, crying for repentance and empathy with those at the margins.
John spells out what he means by repentance: whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise. Tax-collectors must not take more than is due. Soldiers must not extort money with threats or false accusations. It’s acting with fairness and awareness.
John doesn’t despise the tax-collectors or the soldiers, but he cautions all of us not to misuse power or wealth, especially when it affects poor people. It doesn’t take much imagination to extend those warnings to our city officials, police and other public service personnel. All who have participated in the conversations on racial dynamics will recognize the issues that John is talking about, so blatant in the here and now.
On a global scale, John’s description cannot be good news for us – wealthy North Americans -- who are using more than our share of the world’s natural resources to keep ourselves warm in the winter and cool in the summer, wasting drinkable water, driving whenever we want, eating whatever we want. None of us can be very far from John’s critique of wealth and privilege compared to most people in the world.
Let’s pray that the Paris Accords on Global Warming will inspire us to creative conservation rather than fearful defense.
Repentance actually prompted me and my husband, Peter, to organize a work-pilgrimage to Guatemala 15 years ago. We wanted to “make amends” for the military support that our government gave to the Guatemalan government forces during their 30-year civil war, and we wanted to help bring primary education, especially for the girls, to the indigenous villagers who gained that right in the Peace Accords of 1996.
When we first went, UN Peacekeepers were still patrolling the main roads and USAID rice was being distributed to hungry villagers, because croplands had been burned and the fields were not yet producing enough food to survive in the Highlands. It was surely a time to offer what we could AND to experience the wellspring of hope and possibility among the villagers.
Today, the need for primary schools has largely been filled (without much help from the government). For the past three years, we have worked on a library in three different villages, because adults (who never had that chance) are wanting to read, to learn and even to gain access to computers.
Their hope is contagious, and it feels to me like a sea change has taken place in Guatemala. And yet, if you go on the US State Department website, the scary stories make it seem like a very dangerous place to visit. More so than Washington, DC! As we let our protective chaff be blown away, repentance allowed us to be more alert to fairness in the distribution of resources. The next step is to welcome the winnowing fork of Jesus.
Desert Experience
I believe that John’s truth-telling comes out of his desert experience. Scorched clean by the light, and heat, and aloneness of his life there, John sees the hypocrisy and banality of those who want a quick fix and a heavenly insurance policy. The action that John the Baptist calls for may well be to embrace the desert experiences that come to us, in order to separate the wheat from the chaff in our own lives.
For those of you who have been thinking about racism in this country, one of the downsides of so-called “white privilege” is the notion that nothing bad will happen to people like me. We don’t expect violence, or extortion, cultural neglect or untreatable disease. And yet we know that those things happen every day. I think, at an unconscious level, white privilege tends to separate people like me from the desert experience that clears away illusions and prepares us for the winnowing fork of Jesus.
When we can embrace the deserts that come to us, I believe that we can tap into a deeper current of hope and trust, healing and even joy. Five years ago, my brother-in-law was diagnosed with malignant myeloma – a rare blood plasma cancer. After he went thru a battery of tests at the Dana Farber Institute in Boston, the doctor said this to him: “We can make your life miserable by starting chemo now, or you can go home and do what you love most – to keep your immune system buoyant, and we’ll do monthly blood tests to track what is happening.”
Can you imagine a doctor saying that? Do what you love and it may keep your immune system buoyant.
So that’s what he chose. He went back to Kalamazoo MI, and continued with his teaching and community organizing. He got some help for working in his large garden and sharing the extra produce. He cultivated his Quaker lifestyle. And this fall, he got the good news that his immune system has apparently adjusted to holding the cancer. He’s not cured, but he is actively alive at 75.
As he told us this story at Thanksgiving, he said, “It feels like a death sentence has been lifted.” His deep gladness filled the room, and even the young children felt it.
Conclusion
John says, “the Messiah is coming, to baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” That is, to call forth and bless what is of God in us, and to burn away the dross, the hard coating that was there to protect our hearts as we grew, hulling our hearts for the work that is ours to do now.
This is no baby Jesus in the manger. It is a grown-up Jesus, tough enough to be with us in whatever desert we find ourselves. In our Church of the Saviour tradition, I see this as the winnowing work of the inward journey – the work of trusting in God’s love for this world and for us; the work of forgiving others and trusting that there is a deeper current of love and joy and peace running through all of creation – if we can get silent enough to taste it and know it for ourselves.
Today is the third Sunday of Advent, the liturgical season of waiting for Christ to be born again in us. This particular Sunday celebrates JOY, because the lectionary reading assigned for this day comes from Paul’s letter to the Philippians, in chapter 4:
Rejoice in the Lord always; and again I say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your request be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
This kind of JOY is a deep underground stream, flowing beneath the chaos and violence of the daily news. It is accessible when we get quiet, and listen for God in the midst of our desert times.
It moves us to action, when we share what we have and pay attention to those places where need speaks of vulnerability.
May the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, guard your hearts and minds, now and always.
Amen.