Let Him In – Luke 3:7-18
Last week John the Baptist was a voice crying in the wilderness. This week he’s a name-calling zealot for repentance; threatening people with wrath, fire, and axes. To paraphrase, he says, “You brood of vipers, you sons of snakes. I don’t want to hear about Abraham. I don’t care who your daddy is. I want you to do something.” He doesn’t want excuses, he wants action. “Bear fruits worthy of repentance,” he says.
“So, what then should we do?” That’s the question that John is asked three times. The crowds ask it. The tax collectors ask it. The soldiers ask it. And how many of us have asked that question as we look at the world today? My guess is that most of us have. It’s a question that seems terribly familiar because it’s the one we ask when life gets complicated and difficult.
Most of the time we know what to do. Think about how we make hundreds of decisions, big and little ones – even life changing ones – every day. Think about all the decisions you’ve made just since you got up this morning. You knew what to do, and you did it.
Now maybe we may not always get it right, but at least we generally know what to do. But when our world gets turned upside down, when life feels like more than we can handle, then we feel powerless. And that’s when we cry out, “What then should we do?”
Powerlessness can paralyze us, but our powerlessness doesn’t mean we have no choices. It just means we have to make different ones. We may be powerless to change the world right now, but we can choose to change ourselves. And even if we can’t escape the world, we can choose to live in it in a different way.
I read about a woman who, after seeing all the strife and division that’s running rampant in our culture, when she sees someone from a different race, or culture or ethnic background, she’s now much more intentional about looking into the face of that person, smiling, and saying hello. That simple act won’t eliminate prejudice or hatred, but it is a way to reclaim, recognize, and return to a shared and common humanity.
Someone also told me that they’ve drastically limited the amount of time they spend watching and reading the news. It’s not about ignoring or denying the events of the world and it’s not running away. It’s repentance. It’s about turning away from something that had become toxic for them.
These are simple, concrete, practical acts of repentance. It may not fix the world, but it will continue to hold the door open for the coming of “the one who is more powerful” who can.
And that’s what Advent is all about. Holding the door open and preparing for Jesus’ to come in.
