Sermon December 9, 2007
Pastor Wesley Howell

"Snakes"

John the Baptist wouldn't have lasted a day in the church I grew up in. Maybe he could've been the preacher down at the Pentecostal Church down the road but not at Salem Lutheran, Mount Vernon.

It's not that we were some big, downtown “with it” church. We weren't. We were a small, farm town church. Good Lutherans; good citizens.

Well, ok, maybe we weren't all totally good, but we weren't all that bad either - law-abiding, tax paying, comfortably middle-class.

We were perfectly happy for God never to say anything to us other than what we expected to hear, and what we expected to hear was "I'm okay. You're okay." "God is nice; therefore, we should be nice to each other."

So, if John had pulled up on moving day looking like "captain caveman" with his wild hair and scraggly beard, moved his wardrobe of one camel's hair outfit into the parsonage closet, and put his box of locusts and jar of wild honey into the church kitchen, “Oops, don’t want to open that jar…they have a way of hopping out.” Eyebrows definitely would have been raised. We've seen eccentric preachers before (one guy broke into trumpet playing in the middle of a sermon); but John would have taken the cake.

I can hear the people talking now: "Is that our new preacher?"

"Couldn't be."

But remember, we’re nice. So someone would have said, "Well now, let's not judge a book by its cover. As long as he loves the people, visits Aunt Betty in the nursing home, and takes care of our shut-ins, then we can deal with odd clothing and a rough appearance."

But the first time John stepped into the pulpit and unleashed one of his fire-breathing, spit-flying sermons that would have been the end of him.

His message: "You bunch of snakes!" (What a way to start a sermon!) "What do you think you're doing slithering down here to the river? Do you think that a little water on your snake skins is going to make any difference? It's your life that's got to change, not your skin! If your life is changed, people will be able to tell. You'll bear fruit. And don't think you can pull rank because you are a descendant of Abraham. Descendants of Abraham are a dime a dozen. God can take these rocks and make them into descendants of Abraham. What matters is your life. Is your life green? Is it bearing fruit? If it is deadwood, then it goes into the fire. Repent! The kingdom of heaven is near."

Tough message…scathing…people were being baptized, lives were being turned around…transformed.

I remember going to a funeral for my uncle Mid in a small little Assembly of God church in Arlington. Time came for the service, the family processed in, the preacher started to preach.

The preacher really got worked up and started to shout, "It's too late for Mid. He might have wanted to do something different with his life, but it's too late for him now. It's all over for him. He doesn't get another chance. But it ain't too late for you. People drop dead every day. Why wait? Today is the day. Repent! Make your life count for something. Give your life to Jesus! You never know what tomorrow may hold. Repent!"

After the funeral I was all worked up. I went over to Grandma Larson, good sweet…Lutheran to the core, Grandma Larson. She’ll understand… “Grandma, can you believe that? That was awful… terrible. I’d never do that to a grieving family. It was so manipulative, inappropriate, where was the grace? And worst of all… it was tacky."

"Yes Wesley, you’re right. But the worst part is: It was true."

As it turns out, that's good news.

Can we admit we need to repent…it means to change the way you think…then the way you see changes…and then your whole body follows suit? Are we ready to do that?

Man…this isn’t just a speed bump…this John…this guy is a brick wall in the middle of the freeway!

We are in a culture where we are taught, through advertising, years of schooling, and all the rest that we are able to save ourselves by ourselves, and how? What does saving mean? Saved from what? What’s the problem? From the moment we can walk we’re pumped with the understanding that we are made whole, we are healed, we feel better and we’re given value… you know… when I walk down the street I feel like I AM somebody and others will respect me…how?

Mostly through our stuff. We think that we will find meaning through what we buy or think we want to buy. A recent Church of England report puts it this way: "Where previous generations found their identity in what they produced, we now find our identity in what we consume." People were known by what they made…so we have people named Carpenter, Miller, Smith…

It used to be a major fashion faux pas to have your tag sticking up…right? Man…now it’s not just a tag…our whole bodies are walking billboards. Your car declares it. The purse you so want has the name of the company, Doonie and Burke, Dolce Gebbanna… plastered all over it. T-shirts, sweat shirts all say GAP, Abercrombie…or whatever’s in style right now. Your disposable coffee cup tells everyone if you’re cool. Why the copyright battles? Partly, because NAME means everything.

Is this an inconvenient truth? I know we don’t all play the game totally, but in our own ways we all play along. Maybe it’s where we live…or the letters behind our name but know this…WE FIND A WAY.

“You bunch of snakes!" (What a way to start a sermon!) "What do you think you're doing slithering down here to the river? Do you think that a little water on your snake skins is going to make any difference? It's your life that's got to change, not your skin! If your life is changed, people will be able to tell. You'll bear fruit. And don't think you can pull rank because you are a descendant of Abraham. Descendants of Abraham are a dime a dozen. God can take these rocks and make them into descendants of Abraham. What matters is your life. Is your life green? Is it bearing fruit? If it is deadwood, then it goes into the fire. Repent! The kingdom of heaven is near."

Whoa…John wasn’t playing around. He dared to speak the truth. He IS a speed bump on the way to our sweet baby Jesus. But something tells me Jesus isn’t playing around either. Better hold on…