“New Clothes for Christmas”
Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Advent 2 – 12/7/14
Allen Huff
Jonesborough Presbyterian Church
According to Luke, when Jesus is asked to preach for the
first time at the synagogue in Nazareth, he opens the scroll of Isaiah and
reads the first one-and-a-half verses of Isaiah 61. Jesus follows the reading
with a sermon that Luke sums up this way: “Today this scripture has been
fulfilled in your hearing.”
At first, the people stand in smug awe of Jesus. The
hometown boy seems to have made good for sure. Things change quickly, though,
when Jesus interprets Isaiah’s words. Recalling that two of God’s most
memorable prophets, Elijah and Elisha, tended to Gentiles – one a widow and one
a leper – before tending to Jews, Jesus exposes that which is most utterly true
and offensive about God: When the Spirit of the Lord moves, the initial
beneficiaries are not those who might consider themselves chosen or blessed, but rather
those who are most vulnerable. God acts first on behalf of the poor, the captive, the blind, and the oppressed. Regardless of ethnicity, people
in these categories of humanity are the ones whose “descendants shall be known
among the nations.” They are the ones whom the world will acknowledge as “a
people whom the Lord has blessed.”
To the extent that Israel embodies God’s concern for the powerless
and the marginalized of the world, she maintains her role as God’s chosen and communal
witness. When Israel allies herself with injustice, however, when she gets in
bed with violent power and exclusive privilege, she abandons her uniqueness. Israel may refer to a particular people
and place, but even more does Israel
refer to those who intentionally strive
with God for the well-being of the creation.
The same is true for the church, of course. When we do not follow
Jesus with the same passion as we proclaim him Lord, are we truly the body of
Christ?
“I will bless you,” says Yahweh to Abram. I will “make your
name great, so that you will be a blessing.” (Genesis 12:2)
The leadership of first-century Judaism has abandoned
Israel’s uniqueness. The chosen people have chosen religious entitlement over
spiritual purpose. Having grown comfortable in their somewhat privileged
arrangements, the people who raised Jesus are shocked and horrified by his
radical words. Turning from friendly to fiendish, they herd the Good Shepherd toward
a nearby cliff intending to throw him off. Jesus manages to slip through their
fingers, of course. And after that, instead of wilting away, Jesus commits his
life to fulfilling Isaiah’s disruptive prophecy.
There will be no fancy, gold-fringed robes for this anti-establishment
rabbi. As one who loves the Lord who loves justice, Jesus wears a very
different wardrobe. He wraps himself in “the mantle of praise instead of a
faint spirit,” because God has clothed him with “the garments of
salvation…[and] the robe of righteousness.”
Given these images from Isaiah, whose prophecy we
Christians now connect to Jesus and his Christ-like
way of Israelite life, there is
little wonder that new clothes tend to be one of the most popular Christmas
gifts. And to the extent that they may actually remind us of being clothed in Christ,
the Lover of Justice Incarnate, new clothes may be entirely appropriate.
To compare the life of faith to spiritual clothing hardly
breaks new ground. The psalmist speaks even of God being “clothed with honor
and wrapped in light as with a garment.” (Psalm 104:1b-2a)
One of my favorite passages to read at weddings comes from
Colossians 3: “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with
compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another
and…forgive each other…And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…And be
thankful.”
Compassion, kindness,
humility, meekness, patience, forgiveness, peace, gratitude – these are the
bridegroom’s garlands and the bride’s jewels. They are Isaiah’s garments of salvation, and such garments
assume relationship with the creation. That means that we cannot afford to
reduce faith to underwear – that is, to something so personal that we hide it.
Our Christmas clothing is a way of outer, visible life, life in relationship
with and for others. This does not mean that we try to force our neighbors into
some kind of uniform wardrobe. It means – at least it means to me – that we
wear our Christmas hearts on our sleeve.
Jesus declares the same thing when he says to his disciples,
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved
you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are
my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13:34-35)
Returning to Colossians 3, we find these words: “Above all,
clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect
harmony.”
Agape Love is the
fabric of which the garments of salvation are made. To mix in the rest of
Isaiah’s metaphors, Love is the eternal and irresistible energy and vigor God
uses to grow the fragrant and healing gardens of faith. When our lives embody
the Agape Love and the redeeming justice of God in Christ, we do not just look
forward to salvation. We experience it. We share it.
The promise of Christmas is this: When we offer ourselves
to others, in gratitude to God, the Spirit comes upon us. And even through us,
the very heart of scripture may be revealed and fulfilled.
It is Advent, the season of getting dressed for the arrival
of the bridegroom. The table before us is our dressing room, our place of
renewal and transformation. All are welcome here.
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