December 15, 2024 – Third Sunday of Advent
Kahu Gary Percesepe
So much is packed into so few words in our text this morning. Savor it: The word of God comes. The word of God comes to John. The word of God comes to John, son of the priest Zechariah. The word of God comes to John, son of the priest Zechariah, in the wilderness.
Where the word of God happened to John is surprising. John’s father, Zechariah, is a priest. He worked at the Temple in Jerusalem. The Temple was a beautiful building. Set high atop the Temple Mount, its gleaming columns were visible to sojourning pilgrims from miles away. The Temple was also the social, economic and political hub of Jewish life. If anything was happening for Jews it was happening in the big city, and it was happening at the Temple. The very Temple where Zechariah worked as priest. So, we might have expected the word of God to happen to the Chief Priest in charge, and for the whole religious bureaucracy to oversee planning this momentous news of the coming of Messiah.
But that’s not what happened. The word of God happened not to the priest Zechariah, not to the High Priest, not to the professional clergy at all!—no, the word of God happened to this strange looking prophet John, son of Zechariah, out in the wild! God revealed Godself out in the wilderness not in the city, not in the Temple, and why is that, church?
For the same reason that when the Holy Spirit got busy in Mākena, here on Maui, the Spirit did not go through the missionary gatekeepers in Honolulu, nor did it go through those folks at the Mission in Boston that sent the missionaries. No, the world of God happened to some fisherman out in the bay, some farmers tending their plants, some cowboys up at the ranch, the word of God happened outside the official channels of religion, where God called ordinary people to do extraordinary things. God was asking for a mission outpost in what many at the time would regard as the wilderness.
Re-reading Keawala’i’s history, I learned that a minister asked that the property, church and deed be turned over to the mission in Boston. But the members refused, and voted to retain the property as their own.
Keawala’i is a church that was born with a strong sense of purpose, a purpose and a mission not manufactured by men, nor by ministers, nor by professional missionaries, but born from above, by the Holy Spirit. This church has been entrusted by God to your stewardship. God has summoned you to support it with your time, your talent, and your treasure. This is your sacred kuleana. The word of God is happening here, and this is a cause for rejoicing.
We can talk about joy, we can sing about joy, but we cannot make ourselves feel joyful. Joy comes to us, and it often comes when we least expect it, just as it came to our kupuna long ago when the word of God happened to them, and in faith they rose up and built! The joy of the Lord was their strength as they rose up and built, despite a host of challenges they faced, and we continue to face today. In difficult times we must lean into a renewed sense of purpose, trusting that God never abandons the work that God has called us to do.
“Rejoice in the Lord always! And again, I say, rejoice!” These words are an imperative. This is not a suggestion; it is a command.
Paul wrote these words from prison! He was uncertain of his future, just as many of you today are unsure of our church’s future. How can God command us to have an experience over which we have no control? How can God command us to rejoice? The answer is right there in verse five: “The Lord is near.”
The only condition for joy is the presence of God. Joy happens when God is present, and the people know it. This means that joy can erupt when the economy collapses, the banks fail, the fires come, or when new leadership takes over during times of transition. Joy is not dependent on external circumstances; joy comes from the presence of the living God.
This week I spoke with Sue Johnson. She remembered a period when Keawala’i was in decline. The church was ransacked, and beautiful brass whale oil lamps went missing. The lamps had been given to the church by the King. One day Sue’s parents found remnants of the old brass lamps “under the church.” Among the shattered glass shades were two that were unbroken, and one of them was bright pink. Gaudete! Sue remembers her parents walking up the road carrying two restored lamps every Sunday, placing them on either side of the altar.
In the late 60s and into the 80s Sue’s mom, Ruth Crockett, was a deacon, along with Aunties Caroline, Helen Peter’s, Mele Martin, Auntie Eleanor, and other local folks who resided at Mākena Landing. Attendance was sparse but these ladies sat in a row together in their white dresses on Sundays. Sue writes: “We were such a small congregation that we could not afford a full-time minister. At first, we had Maui traveling ministers who served several churches, each for one Sunday at a time. After that the UCC sent various ministers for three months at a time. These were mostly retired ministers who served for a short time. These are happy memories for me. We were very small, but we eventually grew. I’m praying that this will occur again at Keawala’i!”
I see those women in white, still present. They bring us joy. Just as I make it a point every Sunday to greet Joan Terhosrt. I love talking to Joan because she lives in the joy of the present moment: not anxious or worried about the future, not living in the past, but in this present moment, where God is to be found. So, breathe in, take a deep gulp of the joy that is here because God is here. Rejoice and be glad, the Lord is near. Amene.