Fulfillment

“Happy New Year!” I say to myself as I look forward to this coming Sunday. Oh, I’m too early, you say? Oh, I just wrote a scathing blogpost last week about people putting up their Christmas lights too early and now I’m already moving to the New Year, you say? Well, I was talking about the Church year—thank you very much! Yes, I am a Church nerd; however, I am one not merely as an occupational hazard. No, I care so much about the tradition, experience, and practices of the Church because I care about how we as human beings relate to God. As one such Church nerd, it is my duty and great joy to tell you the good news that we begin a new Church year this coming Sunday with a new season (Advent), new Sunday School classes at St. John's (Come learn about why the Church year is awesome!), and a shift in our readings—chiefly we see this in a move from the Gospel of Luke to the Gospel of Matthew.

 

During new student orientation in seminary we had an icebreaker activity with all sorts of nerdy Church questions: Are you high church, broad church, or low church in your worship style? Do you like praise music, hymnal music, or no music? Would you rather use Rite I, Rite II, or Enriching Our Worship? Which Gospel is your favorite: Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John? I don’t remember my answers to other questions, but I remember that Luke was my favorite Gospel when I entered seminary. If you asked me last week where it stands in my Gospel Power Rankings (GPR) I would reply that it is in danger of missing the four team Gospel Championship Playoff (GCP). Matthew though, does not sit much higher. So part of me rejoiced this morning when I put away my big commentary on Luke, but another part grimaced when I picked up the commentary on Matthew. I especially winced when I read this coming Sunday’s reading (Matthew 24:36-44).

The start of our Church year and the beginning of its first season of Advent when we prepare for the coming of Christ (past, present, and yet-to-come) sounds so scary this year with three distinct admonitions. First, nobody knows when the Son of Man is coming, like those in Noah’s day did not know when the flood would carry them away. Next, when the Lord comes two will be working in the field or at the mill, one will be taken and one will be left. Finally, God will come like a thief in the night. “Keep awake” could be the summary message, or maybe “Let’s get paranoid!” Sheesh, this is how we start the year? It is a little different than a gigantic disco ball, college bowl games, and champagne to ring in the New Year! And yet, I am not giving up hope on the First Sunday of Advent!

While the four canonical Gospels all have much in common—mostly that they are about the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth—each has its own distinct flavor. Matthew’s distinct essence, according to the scholar R.T. France, focuses upon fulfillment. Jesus came to fulfill! He came to fulfill the law, the prophets, and God’s plan of salvation! Matthew proves this over and over again with fifty-four direct quotations from the Old Testament (OT) and another 262 allusions to the OT. This statistically does not outpace every book of the New Testament, but it does have more OT per verse than any other Gospel (R.T. France, The Gospel of Matthew, 10-11)! So why are the OT connections important? And, how might this salvage a very direct Gospel passage this Sunday? Fair questions.

The theme of fulfillment is important because it will shape just about every story in the First Gospel, like how the Magnificat’s upside-down worldview provides a key to unlocking an understanding of Luke or how the whole first chapter of John (Logos Hymn) gives insight into knowing the celebratory nature of the Word’s coming in the Fourth Gospel. “All this happened to fulfill what had been written (in some prophet’s book)” will be a commonly heard refrain in Matthew, which will bring the theme of fulfillment to center stage. But, as is the case this Sunday, often the theme of fulfillment will be like an operating software running in the background. This Sunday we surprisingly start the Church Year late in Matthew’s Gospel with a prophetic word about the coming of the Son of Man from Jesus himself, which is to say the least "trippy." This challenging message is still about fulfillment though. 

The Son of Man comes into the world to fulfill all that was written in Jewish Scripture and beyond, and as scary as that moment could be (see: Noah’s flood, left behind series, thief in the night), what Jesus really seems worried about is someone missing that moment altogether! If we truly believe that Matthew wrote his Gospel to help his community and others know that Jesus came to fulfill God’s purposes in this world, then we have the freedom to hear Jesus’ words differently. Jesus urges those listening to pay attention, so that all may be part of the fulfillment that the Son of Man brings. When understood this way these are hopeful words, challenging ones yes, but more than anything (at least according to Matthew) God wants us to be part of the fulfilling of all things! That does make me feel like this is a Happy New Year!

Matthew 3:1-12: More Than Just "Do This, Do That"

Have you ever played the game called “Do This, Do That”? It’s not all that popular, so maybe you have never played it. But the leader of the game, does actions (kinda like this) and while saying, “Do this.” Those who are playing the game mirror the leader’s actions. The game keeps going on in this fashion until the leader says, “Do that.” And whatever action the leader does while saying “Do that,” is the only thing that gets players “out” of the game. So basically players copy the leader’s example while she or he says “Do this,” but as soon as she or he says “Do that,” one ceases to follow the leader’s motions. So let’s play one round, shall we?

Not to toot my own horn too much, but I was really good at this game. Not because I was super quick and had instinctive hand-eye reflexes, but rather the opposite was the case. I was slow and so I was always a move or two behind. When everyone was “oohing” and “awing” because the leader said, “Do That!” I was a step late and could stop in anticipation of what was to come.

The season of Advent is a prophetic season that often comes off sounding like, “Do This, Do That.” We look ahead to Christ’s coming both in the person of Jesus 2,000 years ago and the future advent of Christ. It’s a season when we are eternally looking ahead. Often we may hear the prophets telling us as we wait to “Do this and do that,” or better yet, “Do this, and don’t do that.”

We can hear John the Baptist this morning as the king of “Do this, Do That.” John is out in the wilderness saying “Come on out… Do this,” “The Kingdom of Heaven has come near, turn around, do this,” “Come into the waters of Baptism, do this.” Of course, the game of “Do This” changes suddenly to one of “Don’t Do That,” as soon as the Pharisees and Sadducees enter into the waters of the River Jordan.

Starting off the conversation calling the Jewish leaders, “You brood of vipers,” makes it seem as though the deck is stacked in this game. Yet, I can see a wry smile on the face of the Baptizer, as he asks, “Who warned you of the wrath to come?” John sees these hyper-religious men as people who rely so heavily upon their rituals that they have forgotten that it is not religion that they worship, but God. He warns them that entering into these life-giving, renewing waters is no empty gesture. True baptism to the prophet is shown in the good fruit it produces. “Bear fruit worthy of repentance,” he says. Do not cling to your ancestor’s merits for God can raise up stones to be children of Father Abraham. Then, John gifts us hearers with two images that at first appear to be dichotomous, either/or, “Do This, Do That,” yet they provide a subtle way for us to prepare for Christ’s coming both as a community and as individuals.

On the surface, we hear either, “you will be a tree bearing good fruit” or “you will be cut down”; “you will be wheat” or “you will be chaff.” There was a tree in the backyard of my childhood home, a great, beautiful apple tree. When I was in elementary school I would excitedly run outside almost every autumn morning to pick fruit from its branches. Then, I would put it in my lunch bag and proudly pull out some homegrown good produce at school. Yet, as the years went on and on, the tree grew older and older, and it bore less and less fruit. Eventually, this once fruitful apple tree slowly started to decay and die. While this saddened me, what I learned from watching this little backyard ecosystem was that even in the process of dying this dying tree was continuing to grab nutrients from the soil and its branches were blocking the sunlight from other smaller seedlings.

John’s warning about the trees bearing good fruit can be taken as a warning to “be good,” whatever that might mean, but maybe what the Baptist is crying about is a need to make way for new growth within our religious communities. I do not intend to pick up an axe and start chopping down dying ministries within our church, nor do I want to light fires to our tradition, but perhaps we together can see where pruning and maybe even hacking is in order to allow for something fresh to sprout. Where is the good fruit in our church? Where are those decaying things that take up our energy? What is blocking good new growth from happening? John’s cry is for us to dream something new together to bring it about and not to cling too tightly to the old ways. Yet there is another image.

One is coming who is more powerful than John, and his baptism is with the Holy Spirit and fire. The image that John uses for this fiery one to come is an agricultural image. The messiah will come with a winnowing fork in hand, as Lucy McCain said in centering prayer this week, there is grace in that he is not carrying a shovel. Yet the end of this image of the messiah seems a bit scary: the wheat is kept in the granary and the chaff is burnt up in an unquenchable fire.

I am not a great farmer, and we have many green thumbs in our church, so if what I am about to say is wrong, please correct me: Wheat is made up of grain and chaff. The chaff is that which protects the nutritious grain from bugs and the elements until the time is right for the grain to be harvested in the granary. John’s image is not asking us to think, “In the life to come do you prefer smoking or non-smoking?” as some church signs read. Rather, we are the stalks of wheat. We have a part of us that protects us from being fully vulnerable with one another and with God. Christ’s call is to shake off that chaff. Let the part of us that is keeping us isolated, alone, and “safe” be burned up in the unquenchable fire. Now I know this sounds scary, but we cannot live fireproof lives. We do not possess flame-retardant spirits. Part of us, that bit that separates us from one another has to be torched.

Once we let that chaff go, then we can come together. We can enter into the granary. As our grains come forth we are pressed together and turned into that flour that makes the bread of life. This is the good news hidden within the “Do This, Don’t Do That” game that John seems to be calling out in the wilderness. Once we move beyond our initial panic of believing that the Baptist is speaking of heaven and hell we can hear this truly difficult, yet fully inspiring message. With God we are called to cut down that which is dying and not bearing fruit in our community in order for new growth to happen and to shed the chaff providing us false security, so that we can come together to form the bread of life. In this season of Advent when we are asked to slow down and be quiet, to watch and wait, to stop and listen, God is coming to be with us. It is not a game of “Do This, Do That,” it is a time of discernment to prune our hearts and ministries, to shed the chaff so that God can bear in us good fruit and form our grains into the Bread of Life.