Beloved friends-
Many years ago, in the LGBTQI community, the word “outing” became common nomenclature as the word describing what happens when someone (usually without permission) decided to reveal the sexual orientation of another person. It happened to famous, infamous, and ordinary people and the emotional toll or wake it left behind was usually devastating. This morning, I would like to take that word out of context a bit to suggest that, in a sense, this Sunday, John the Baptist will “out” Jesus.
For centuries the Jews had been waiting for, and looking for, the Messiah to come. God had long ago made a covenant with King David that one of his descendants would reign forever. But, instead, the Romans had ruled the country for many years, and with each passing month of oppression, longing for the Messiah grew. Imagine their surprise when they heard from John that the Messiah was already there. He said in today’s gospel lesson, “Among you stands One whom you do not know; one whose sandals I am not worthy to untie.”
For at least thirty years, Jesus had lived among us before John outed him as the Messiah. I wonder how long Jesus might have lived in our midst without ever being recognized if John had never said anything?
So today I am wondering if perhaps a better question for us is: How often does Jesus walk among us today unrecognized?
As we turn the corner on this third Sunday of Advent I am thinking a lot about the timing of our sacred stories and how they intersect with our lives. During Advent we are encouraged to slow down, let our eyes adjust to the dark- metaphorically and perhaps literally, suspending the notion we know how the story goes. Instead, we might consider the possibility of what it means to wait for something unexpected to be born in our lives anew.
So as we continue to walk in the dark, I offer this beautiful poem as a small gift for the journey we’re on together making our way towards Bethlehem.
God’s Timing (by Ted Loder)
O God of all seasons and senses,
grant us the sense of your timing to submit gracefully
and rejoice quietly in the turn of the seasons.
In this season of short days and long nights,
of grey and white and cold, teach us the lessons of endings;
children growing,
friends leaving,
loved ones dying,
grieving over,
grudges over,
blaming over, excuses over.
O God, grant us a sense of your timing.
In this season of short days and long nights,
of grey and white and cold, teach us the lessons of beginnings;
that such waitings and endings may be the starting place,
a planting of seeds which bring to birth what is ready to be born—
something right and just and different,
a new song,
a deeper relationship,
a fuller love—
in the fullness of your time.
O God, grant us the sense of your timing.
And may you never forget that you are loved.
Lisa