Summary: In today's readings, Advent is a promise of joyful disruption.

Joy

Last year, I also got to speak for the third Sunday of Advent. But turns out I can’t just repeat that sermon.

Last year, the bible passages were about Advent bringing a promise of joyful reconciliation. This year, I’d say the readings are about Advent as a promise of joyful disruption.

Isaiah 35, Psalm 146, Mary’s song in Luke 1, and Jesus’ comment in Matthew 11 all say basically that God’s coming is about things turning upside down.

This is more like the ha-ha funny side of joy. According to the internet, philosophers have figured out one explanation for what’s funny, called incongruity theory. This theory says:

humor¬ arises when logic and familiarity are replaced by things that don't normally go together. A joke becomes funny when we expect one outcome and another happens.

For example, think about comedies. You’re laughing when things pop out and surprise you, when identities get mixed up, when the team with no chance wind up winning the game, and when the characters who couldn’t stand each other fall in love, when the big man starts to hop around and do some ballet. You laugh when something happens that you did not see coming.

The Bible passages for today mention a lot of things that we’d have certain expectations about, according to what’s logical and familiar and normally goes together. I’m going to start by throwing out some words, and you think what you associate with them.

Desert wilderness

Blind mute deaf lame

Feeble fearful

Prisoners

Foreigners

Rich

Poor

Vengeance retribution

And now with all those expectations in mind, I’m going to read today’s passages, and listen for those words and how they show up with very different associations. Isaiah 35 is a poem that looks forward to how things will be when God comes.

Isaiah 35 The desert and the parched land will be glad;

the wilderness will rejoice and blossom.

Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom;

it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy.

The glory of Lebanon will be given to it,

the splendor of Carmel and Sharon;

they will see the glory of the LORD,

the splendor of our God.

3 Strengthen the feeble hands,

steady the knees that give way;

4 say to those with fearful hearts,

“Be strong, do not fear;

your God will come,

he will come with vengeance;

with divine retribution

he will come to save you.”

5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened

and the ears of the deaf unstopped.

6 Then will the lame leap like a deer,

and the mute tongue shout for joy.

Water will gush forth in the wilderness

and streams in the desert.

7 The burning sand will become a pool,

the thirsty ground bubbling springs.

In the haunts where jackals once lay,

grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.

These are some surprising images, especially since this poem comes after a serious of chapters in Isaiah called “the six woes.” Those chapters described countries and people falling apart. For example,

Isaiah 33:9 The land mourns and wastes away; Lebanon is ashamed and withers, Sharon is like the desert, and Bashan and Carmel drop their leaves.

Isaiah 35 names those same places, but it talks about “The glory of Lebanon” and “the splendor of Carmel and Sharon.” Isaiah foresees how those famously beautiful places that were withering and drooping and ashamed can be restored to glory and splendor.

Meanwhile in the wilderness, flowers burst into bloom, in the desert, water will gush forth.

And who’s seeing clearly, it’s the blind people. Who can be strong and courageous, the feeble and fearful people. That mute, isn’t just talking now, he’s shouting, The lame person, not only walking, leaping like a deer.

These is not the expected natural order. This like is a comedy show, with surprises and reversals right and left. This is what redemption looks like – when God intervenes and turns things around.

The Psalm for today has a similar vision of how God acts.

Psalm 146: 6 God is the Maker of heaven and earth,

the sea, and everything in them—

he remains faithful forever.

7 He upholds the cause of the oppressed

and gives food to the hungry.

The LORD sets prisoners free,

8 the LORD gives sight to the blind,

the LORD lifts up those who are bowed down,

the LORD loves the righteous.

9 The LORD watches over the foreigner

and sustains the fatherless and the widow,

but he frustrates the ways of the wicked.

Hungry, fed; prisoner free; blind, seeing; bowed down, lifted up; foreigner cared for; bad guys, not getting away with it. God steps in to turn things around.

And then on to Luke 1, the section called Mary’s song. At this point, Mary was in a awkward situation. She was pregnant, and her fiancé wasn’t the father. Her moral neighbors would probably expect her to be embarrassed and ashamed. We can imagine why Mary hurried away from the village to visit her relative Elizabeth.

But Elizabeth greeted Mary with honor, saying

“Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!

And Mary answered with a poem that almost sounds like it’s laughing as she reflects on how that’s true, this crazy situation is a blessing. She’s not thinking, what will a few neighbors say now. She’s abackup to see her part in a whole history of God mixing things up to bless people.

Luke 1:48 From now on all generations will call me blessed,

49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me—

holy is his name.

50 His mercy extends to those who fear him,

from generation to generation.

51 He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones

but has lifted up the humble.

53 He has filled the hungry with good things

but has sent the rich away empty.

Mary’s baby was Jesus, and he went on to grow up and do the kind of great things that Mary described. Matthew 11 tells about when Jesus got a message asking are you the Messiah we’ve been expecting?

Matthew 11:4 Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: 5 The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy[a] are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor.

According to expectations, the disabled are disabled, the dead are dead, and the poor get bad news. The hungry are empty and the humble are low. But with Jesus here, things get shaken up. That’s how we know he’s the messiah we’ve been expecting

In our church, we’ve seen some of that kind of comedy. Just imagine if I’d told you last January some of the things that would happen this year.

1. We have just a handful of people who can donate to the food pantry, but we fed hundreds of people week after week because what rolled into our parking lot – semi trucks full of food

2. We couldn’t afford to fix our front steps, but they were rebuilt this year and who helped get it done – the LDS church

3. On TV they actually broadcast a message of Christian love on the local news, and who stood up in front of cameras and gave that message – Mr. Tharp

4. New people sat up on stage and proclaimed the gospel with clarity and power and they were – about three feet tall

5. Meanwhile, the blind and the deaf created amazing art, the lame moved crates of garbanzo beans, the sad cooked up feasts, the feeble kept up with toddlers, and people who left came back to visit and enjoy fellowship with us

In the expected world, a low-income church just cannot afford expensive programs, Christians and LDS are not going to reach out in friendship, people who are sick and sad can’t be leading activities, bad arguments don’t get made up, and Pastor Steve is going to run and hide when he sees a camera. But when Jesus is there, the unexpected happens. The humble get lifted up and the hungry get filled with good things. Disabled people overflow with abilities. We get surprised, and a lot of stuff we just have to laugh.

It’s good to remember this, because in some ways Christians have a tragic worldview. We believe that the world is broken by sin, that every person is born flawed, that we can’t fix ourselves, and that sin has consequences. We don’t believe life is a slapstick comedy where people can smack each other and fall down and pop right back up again, nobody hurt. Christians see that sin hurts. Pain is real. Our passage from Isaiah comes from a whole section of the book that’s basically a tragedy, describing a train wreck of consequences resulting from flaws and mistakes.

What makes our worldview not tragic is that we believe that happy endings are possible. People who don’t believe in God can look at bad situations and think, well, that’s never going to change. It’s easy to look at injustice, poverty, hunger, violence, and think oh well, that’s just natural, the way the world is. It’s easy to look at someone who’s messed up or confused, and know that’s just the way that person is. Between nature and history, we’re doomed. But when we believe in God, we’re believing in a power that can intervene. We believe that Jesus gave his life to intervene in the chain of consequences of sin, and make redemption possible. And so we believe in, pray for, work for, and expect change.

You can see this in missions, for example. Looking at the Global Servants that we support as American Baptists, there are people out there working to help figure out sustainable agriculture in Congo, provide high-quality eye care in Haiti, fight human trafficking in Thailand, serve refugees in Mexico, give Bibles to Muslims in India, teach street kids in Brazil, support peace in El Salvador, and train Christian leaders in Turkey.

Those activities could look like uphill battles or even fool’s errands from a worldly perspective. But they’re the kinds of things that people do when they believe in a God who comes, who can make the desert bloom, who lifts up the humble, who brings healing, and who opens eyes and ears.

Advent is a time to step back and think about God’s coming. What it meant that Jesus was born on Christmas, what it means to have God with us now through the Holy Spirit, what it means that Christ will come again.

• Considering today’s passages, you might think, does the word “desert” describe any situation you’re facing now.

• Or how about the people in your life. Do any of these words resonate: oppressed, bowed down, lame, feeble, poor, hungry, can’t see, can’t hear.

• What hope does “your God will come” have for them?

Time to pray “Come Lord Jesus” and be open to surprise.

Caution: desert flooding and lame dancing may ensue.

To finish with the last passage for today, from the book of James. This addresses the question how long does it take for God to come? When can we expect to see the full joyful restoration that Isaiah foresaw?

Because obviously the answer to “are we there yet” is “no.”

The Jewish people got a happy homecoming that Isaiah foresaw about 70 years later, but their story of loss and restoration didn’t end there, and still hasn’t finished.

Earlier I listed out some things in this church that we could look at for evidence that God is here at work, right now. But we could also list out a lot of broke things that still aren’t fixed yet, pain that hasn’t been healed yet, lost people who are still lost, and situations that still need Jesus to come. We’re not in heaven yet, and still need to pray like Jesus taught us “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.” James said…

James 5:7-8 Be patient, then, brothers and sisters, until the Lord’s coming. See how the farmer waits for the land to yield its valuable crop, patiently waiting for the autumn and spring rains. 8 You too, be patient and stand firm, because the Lord’s coming is near.

Think about that image of the farmer looking out at a bare brown field. What’s the farmer expecting? She prepared the ground and planted the seeds but can’t force anything to happen. But she’s waiting in expectation for things to change, for the rains to come, for green sprouts to start popping out of that ground, for a valuable crop to grow.

Be patient and stand firm, says James, because the Lord’s coming is near.

Let’s keep praying Come Lord Jesus, and keep expecting joyful surprises as his kingdom comes.