Let your little light shine

In the name of our Living, Loving, and Life Giving God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

One of my many joys as a parent has been introducing my children to some of my favorite movies. Year round, but especially in the Christmas season. To keep things in perspective, our kids are 7, 9, and 12. So, ultimate Christmas classics like Die Hard remain further down on the list. 

At these ages, we’re deep in Home Alone, a movie series that continues to expand. The Santa Clause, Elf, The Polar Express. Back in October, on a sick day, our eldest William got to meet Mrs. Doubtfire for the first time. I’m throwing no shade to the classics - Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving and Christmas original specials still remain in the rotation, but we’re evolving, growing up. 

One line that has taken form in our house comes from a movie that the kids haven’t actually seen yet. In the early 2000s, Mike Myers played a flight attendant instructor in the movie A View from the Top where he corrects a trainee who mispronounced a word by saying  “You put the emphasis on the wrong syllable.” In young people humor - this ranks very high. 

Buried in that punchline is a reminder that inflection matters. Inflection can make all the difference. 

Imagine a couple: One says something, tells a story, perhaps makes a request, and the other says, “Yes, dear.”

Now, is that “Yes, dear, I fly to do thy bidding, I fall at your feet, I adore the ground you walk on”? Or is that “Yes, dear, grumble, grumble, ugh”?

Inflection, while simple, can completely change the message. 

We have another John the Baptist lesson this Third Sunday of Advent. Last week, you might recall meeting John the Baptist… 

“He appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins… and was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey.”

Today’s gospel tells the story of priests and Levites from Jerusalem, sent by Jews to figure out just who this guy was. 

It would be good to know the inflection the questioners put on their words when they came to question John.

There are many ways to ask that question. Perhaps it was at the beginning: “Who are you?” Let’s start with the emphasis in the middle: “Who are you?” Or with the emphasis at the end: “Who are you?” 

Inflection would certainly make a difference with this important question they are asking John. The identity of John the Baptist is explored, questioned, and established in all four gospels. That level of agreement between gospel writers falls somewhere between uncommon and noteworthy; it’s an indication to us that clearly something significant is being recorded. He is asked this question in today’s reading in the context of “testimony,” according to John’s gospel.

“Who are you?” they ask John. 

John doesn’t break the cardinal rule of answering a question with a question, but he starts with a lot about who he is not. 

John says he is not the Christ, not the Messiah – not Elijah or any other hero. He says he is not the prophet. John says, “I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness ‘Make straight the way of the Lord’” quoting from a passage in Isaiah.  

Mark’s gospel makes things a little clearer by invoking a passage from the prophet Malachi: “I am sending my messenger before you to prepare your way.”

And in the Gospel of Luke we hear a fuller text from Isaiah:

“Prepare the way of the Lord.

Make his paths straight.

Every valley shall be filled –

Every mountain and hill shall be made low.

And the crooked shall be made straight –

And the rough ways made smooth.”

The religious authorities had sent folks to question John, and John quoted scripture to them. Their own scripture! Their own prophet. Every one of them would have been familiar with this text, would have recognized it. They knew it, studied it, memorized it.

Even in our own day, when most of us are not adept at quoting scripture from the Bible, we will recognize this passage from Isaiah because we listen to Handel’s “Messiah” at this time of year. You may hear Handel’s music in the background as you listen to the words of the passage. Handel’s “Messiah” is pretty well known. You might catch it walking through the mall, and in many communities it is a center point of holiday celebration. This is a well-known biblical passage in our day.

In John’s day, it was the focus of their hope for a Messiah, a great leader and liberator sent from God. They knew these words.

Prepare the way. Make the crooked bits straight. Fill in low places. Level the high places. Smooth out the rough spots.

Almost sounds like instructions for highway engineers, doesn’t it? There are roads in this country – perhaps you have driven one? – that are mostly straight, perhaps even mostly flat, with just one interesting curve. Just one single, solitary, interesting curve. And the road engineers and safety folks decide that one interesting curve has to go.

The idea, we are told, is that accidents often happen at such places, and straightening the curve and flattening the land makes it a safer road. That is essentially the idea with Isaiah’s prescription that John the Baptist quotes. Make it safer. Make it easier. Make a straight path for (and to) the Savior.  

John the Baptist says to the people, “Prepare!” Not “I am preparing,” but “You prepare.” Prepare the way of the Lord. Prepare the world: Lift up the drops, flatten out the mountains and hills, straighten the crooked path, smooth out the rough spots. Level the field on which my people stand, John might say, so that all of my people can bask in the glory of God. 

If this lesson is to be instructive at all, then we must hear and heed John the Baptist’s proclamation of God’s Word. If this lesson is to be instructive for us, then we must embrace that this is also our proclamation, rooted in baptism. We are baptized in the manner of John’s baptizing – with water, but also in the knowledge of Jesus and strengthened by the promised Holy Spirit of God.

That lays on us some obligations, some responsibilities, which are part of our baptism by definition. Not luxuries. Not conditional. Not optional. Promises made. Vows taken. The proclamation of the Lord’s coming - put in our mouths.

What I’m saying is that it’s not just John who carries the news.

This is part of the story of Jesus, included in all the gospels and read in Christian communities for nearly 2,000 years to remind us, to embolden us, to open our mouths. We are to do the work of making that field level, and proclaim the work to others in the building up of community.

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In the early drafts of this sermon, that’s where I stopped. But Paul says something pretty important today, so we’re going to use that as the big red bow on top of our gift from John the Baptist. 

One of our most impactful family times is the ride to school each morning. On the best days, we’re all together - that’s 2 adults, 3 kids, and 2 dogs - and, for the record, only once has a dog jumped out of the car. 

The ride ends each morning with the exclamation from my wife, “Let your little light shine.” Buried in there is a host of parental messaging

• Be kind to others 

• Treat your friends like you want to be treated 

• Be courteous to your teachers 

• Try to eat your sandwich, not just the chips – it’s an all-encompassing phrase

If Paul were dropping us off in carpool - I could see the same thing happening:  

Race through traffic, coming in on two wheels, screech to a halt and bam: 

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances. Love you, bye.

In the same way that “Let Your Little Light Shine” has specific meaning to our children, Paul's words to the Thessalonians had very significant meaning. 

Eventually, he’d box it into something like “Prepare” or “Make the way straight.” 

These Christians were grappling with matters of great importance to them – the return of Jesus (which people were expecting ANY MOMENT) and how they should understand the fact that loved ones had died before his return. There was confusion, concern, and even a sense of despair. Into this, Paul speaks these words of encouragement and exhortation and hope.

Paul’s words can help us to unpack John’s directive to “prepare.” If we’ll lean into it, Paul gives us some more detail, and John can be our example: 

Rejoice always… and don’t be quiet about it. Get out and share the good news of Jesus when the opportunity presents itself. You don’t have to take up a street corner. But take your Sunday self into the office, into school, into your weekday life. Drop a Merry Christmas. Ask about how others celebrate this season and watch the Holy Spirit take over. 

Pray without ceasing… find something new. If you’re going to take on prayer without ceasing - I’ll bet you’re going to need some more tools in your toolbox. There are dozens of prayer practices. Try on something new. See how it fits. If you need an idea, ask today when you see the clergy in the courtyard. If enough of you ask, it’ll be a Formation topic in the Spring. 

Finally, Give thanks in all circumstances… give thanks to God for everything. For the blessings, for the answered prayers, for the challenges and crappy circumstances. All of it. And then give thanks to those around you. The ones helping hold life with you in the crappy circumstance. The ones who make your life easier. Everyone. We all benefit from genuine moments of being appreciated. Appreciation makes the world a better place. 

Savor this time of advent. Enjoy this time of preparation. And let your little light shine. Amen.