December 4, 2022
Second Sunday of Advent, Pastor Bradley E. Schmeling
Matthew 3:1-12
The charge, “You brood of vipers,” is really what the United States and Iran threw back at each other this past week at the World Cup. The United States posted a revised image of the Iranian flag to support protesters who are standing up against the regime and for the rights of women. Iran angrily called for the United States’ expulsion for breaking FIFA’s rules about respect. Tensions mounted as the teams were scheduled to play in an increasingly high-staked game on Tuesday. It was a tough game. The player who scored the only goal for the US was taken out of the game at halftime because of an injury. The US won the game by that one goal.
At the final whistle Abolfazl Jalali fell to his knees in tears.
Picture on screen: Antonee Robinson consoles Abolfazl Jalali at the end of USA’s victory over Iran at the World Cup. Photograph: Claudio Villa/Getty Images
US player Antonee Robinson came back on to the field to comfort his opponent, eventually joined by another American. Other players came back to offer comfort.
Picture on screen: Ali Karimi of Iran was comforted by Tim Ream as USA stars showed their humility. Image: Getty
To me, these are the enduring images for a second week in Advent. A contemporary version of Isaiah’s vision.
6The wolf shall live with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a [soccer player] shall lead them.
I’m so grateful that the players were wearing their Advent blue, a glimpse into an age to come.
The actions of the players were somewhat of a shock after the tensions. I can only guess that compassion and care for fellow athletes—a sense of shared humanity–drew them across the line. It seems significant to notice, however, that more than just saying all those sports words about “respecting the other team for playing well” and “leaving it all on the field” at the press conference, vaguely covering the self-congratulation of coaches and players, this team walked back on to the pitch and enacted a world that most of us long to inhabit.[1] They hadn’t yet left it all on the field.
Their world was not going to be a spectator sport but a full-body enactment of what is possible. This is John the Baptist saying, “Are you going to just talk about it, or are you going to play?”
I suspect that John thought that some of people who flooded into the wilderness to hear him preach were the spectators, the “admirers of religion;” the ones went to seminary, who talked a good game, but never risked stepping on to the field. These are the ones who he labels as “broods of vipers.”
John the Baptist isn’t urging us to “ponder these things in our hearts.” That comes later, and really only to those who have already taken the reign of God into their own bodies. The message right now is “For God’s sake, Change!.” John the Baptist steps into the middle of our Advent wilderness to say, “Look out, the one who is coming isn’t coming to put on some heart-warming pageant but to turn the world upside down. You’re going to be part of it one way or another.
It’s always incongruous to announce judgment just before Christmas. I’m always afraid that we hear this judgment as an “or else.” Join in “or else.” Repent “or else.” And we assume that the “or else” is being burned up like chaff in unquenchable fire. If you heard that when you heard this reading, I want you to cast that interpretation into the fire. It’s not helpful, and it’s not right. Whenever there’s judgment in the Bible, it’s not meant to suggest eternal damnation or to create an internal legacy of shame that makes you feel bad about yourself. Judgment, whenever it comes, is for the sake of new life. What God wants is for us is to be on the team, to step into the pitch and roll of eternal love, to experience grace and mercy, to join hands with a community that comforts and heals and practices justice.
John the Baptist is the dramatic voice that says, “There are things that are standing between you this deep experience of grace and joy. Now’s the time to get rid of them, to step over them, to get into treatment, or into therapy or into confession with your pastor or spouse or best friend. This is the time to forgive yourself of that thing that you use to judge yourself over and over again. This is the time to give away the stuff that’s building a wall between you and vulnerable, free life. This is the time to let go of all of those ridiculous expectations you place on yourself. This is also the time to challenge the things that keep others from being fully human or from the earth being able to breath its way into the next century. We don’t need more wild fires. We need fires that burn up the chaff of privilege and comfort, greed and dishonesty, exploitation and violence.
I wonder if we can hear, “You brood of vipers,” as good news. Because I think I’m more viper than lamb. More wolf than sheep. What if the honest truth is that we ARE vipers…who regularly get to shed our skin. In some ancient stories, snakes aren’t the symbol of evil. They are the symbols of resurrection and healing, of our own potential to shed our skin. Think of the snake on the pole that represents the healing arts, the rod of Aesclepios that you see in the doctor’s office. That’s why I love having the marble image of the snake in the floor of the narthex, our invitation to leave last year’s skin at the door. So that we have skin in the game.
You brood of vipers, who are about to get a new skin, a baptismal garment, a new birth under a star.
You brood of vipers, whose poison is absorbed in the cross and given back as the fruit of repentance: love, joy, peace, tolerance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
You brood of vipers, thrashing about in your honesty, your vulnerability, no longer chaff, but wheat and yeast, bread and wine, food for the hungry.
You big, beautiful, brood of vipers, who to meet the one is coming into the pitch darkness, about to be born, fire and water, Spirit and life, reaching for you as you fall to your knees in defeat, raising you up, joining the angel chorus in perfect pitch: Glory to God in the highest and peace good will to all. Amen.
[1] https://talksport.com/football/1262100/usa-players-hug-iran-world-cup-qatar/