This is the first time I’ve stood in this pulpit on the Second Sunday in Advent. Until last year, it was always John Cole’s duty to preach on second Advent and to tell us the story of his experience of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Last year, Anais Heim who was going to tell John’s story. I asked if she wanted to and she did, so she stood in John’s place and told his story. This year it’s my turn, and as I’ve prepared to speak, I’ve reflected on the way Anais’youth reminded me last year that John was just a little more than a boy on that day 65 years ago.
John always told his story with great attention to the details that were etched into his memory. His words brought us into that Sunday morning—the morning that began in such an ordinary way and exploded into the day our country will never forget. Anyone who ever heard John’s story remembers the descriptions that brought that day to life for us. We remember the column of water filled with debris raining down on the Oklahoma—we remember his stumbling over the body of a shipmate as he ran to the gun shack—we remember the long line of shoes sitting side by side along the length of the blister ledge—we remember the explosion that ripped the Arizona apart—we remember the rescue of men from the oily waters into the boat John had released from the boat boom. John’s quiet, matter-of-fact manner as he told the story underlined the horror of the images he described.
Each time I listened to John tell his story, I was shocked to remember that he had been only 19 that day. Each time, I’ve needed to remind myself that this was the story of a very young man—of many very young men—each of them doing the best they could—ordinary men doing extraordinary things in an unimaginable situation. John usually referred to about 20 men in his telling of the story. Some he named, but most of them he described by their role in the drama of the day. We don’t know the names of most of the fathers and sons who populate John’s story of the day his world changed.
On the other hand, Luke opens today’s gospel portion by giving a list of men’s names. He begins with the Roman Emperor Tiberius, then mentions Pontius Pilate, the governor of Judea. He continues with Herod, king of Galilee, his brother Philip, the ruler of the region of Iturea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias, ruler of Abilene. Having named the rulers of the nations, Luke moves to the religious leaders and lists Annas and Caiaphas, the high priests. Only after he gives us a long list of the most powerful men in Jesus’ time does he give us the startling news that the word of God came to someone whose name was known only to a few. We don’t know if the word of God came also to those powerful men, but we do know that this ordinary man, John of Galilee, is the one who accepts God’s word and begins speaking it to everyone who will listen.
This ordinary man preaches an extraordinary vision, echoing the words of the prophets Isaiah and Baruch. He teaches about a new world order, where the valleys will be filled and the high places made low. No longer would there be a division between the powerful and the powerless. No longer would there be division between the rich and the poor. He preaches a vision that seems impossible in our day and probably no less impossible in his own day. He preaches that the reign of God, the goodness of all creation, is coming. And, perhaps to get the attention of the people, he gives Isaiah’s words a little twist. Isaiah says: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” Isaiah writes for the Hebrews who have gotten comfortable in their exile in Babylon. He calls them home, saying that the difficult path across the desert will be smoothed for God’s people.
John speaks of the new world order, where all are on an equal plane, just as Isaiah and Baruch promise. But John doesn’t promise that a smooth path will be made. Instead, he sets the people an extraordinary task. He tells them that they are to prepare the way of the Lord, that they are to make his paths straight. He tells them that they have a part in the new creation. He tells them that they have a part in making the ground level, a part in removing the divisions between the powerful and the powerless, the rich and the poor. He does make a promise—the promise of forgiveness for those who repent of their turning away from God—the promise of a welcoming home for those who have exiled themselves and now turn back to God.
John sets the people a task and gives them a promise, and an amazing thing happens. People show up. They come to him, seeking the baptism of forgiveness. They come to him, preparing their hearts to hear the words that Jesus will say to them. These ordinary people come to John, looking toward a reality they can scarcely imagine, and begin to collaborate in the new world order by doing extraordinary things one step at a time.
And here we are today. Ordinary people called to continue the work begun so many generations ago. Here we are—ordinary people called to make our paths straight to the Lord. Ordinary people called to do extraordinary things in the name of God, so that the work will be complete, the plane will be made level and all people will live in the abundance God intends for all creation.
John Cole and his shipmates, these ordinary young men in an unimaginable situation, did extraordinary things with the guidance of their training, their values and their conviction—and their hope and the support of their community. John’s disciples, and later, the disciples of our Lord Jesus Christ, did extraordinary things, guided by the teachings they heard and filled with hope for the new world that has been promised through the ages and supported by their community.
Now it’s our turn—and our choice. We who come here to worship and pray, to meet our God at this altar and in this community, to be comforted and strengthened, are also called to do extraordinary things. Guided by the great commandment to love God and our neighbor, committed to extraordinary actions through our baptismal covenant, we are called to make our way straight to the Lord, to participate in the work begun so long ago, to do what we can—each of us—to bring God’s reign into our world today.
Come, Lord Jesus.