History Lessons
The Rev. Sandy Selby –
2nd Sunday of
Advent, Year C – December 10. 2006
Text: Luke 3:1-6
“Blessed
be the Lord God of
Last
week we started a new liturgical year-- “Year C” of the three-year lectionary
cycle. In the months ahead, lovers of language are in for a real treat, because
in Year C we read primarily from the gospel according to Luke. Many would say
that Luke’s gospel, perhaps along with Second Isaiah, has the most beautiful
language of the Bible. This is nowhere more apparent than in the so-called
“Infancy Narrative” in the first two chapters of Luke, which tell the story of
the annunciation and birth of John and Jesus, and of the first years of Jesus’
life.
Those
two chapters alone contain four of the most beloved canticles of our liturgy. The
Magnificat of Mary --“My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my
spirit rejoiceth in God my savior”; the Benedictus,
which we read earlier; the Gloria of
the angels at the birth of Jesus: “Glory
to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace, good will towards men;”
and the Nunc dimittis of Simeon upon
seeing the child Jesus, Lord, now lettest
thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy Word; For mine eyes have
seen thy salvation...”
The
Infancy Narrative of Luke is filled with visions and prophecies and angels and
glorious hymns and fantastic events. The content and language of Luke could
make us feel that we are somehow transported from this world, swept away from life’s
vicissitudes by something wondrous.
But
Luke doesn’t let that happen. He anchors these stories in history. The 1st
chapter, telling the story of the birth annunciations to
The
second chapter of Luke, which tells of the birth and childhood of Jesus,
begins: “In those days a decree went out
from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the
first registration and was taken when Quirinius was governor of
Today’s reading from the 3rd
chapter of Luke picks up the story again, years later, with the appearance of
John the Baptist in preparation for the ministry of Jesus. This time Luke wants
to be certain that we keep our feet planted firmly on the ground of reality. His account begins by setting the
historical context: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate
was governor of
He
goes on to anchor the story in seven historical political and religious figures
to alert us that what he is describing is real. It’s as if Luke is saying,
“This happened; and this is when it happened; and this is where it happened.”
Having
said that these events happened, he directs us to the Hebrew Scriptures in
order to make sense of what is happening, quoting from a series of poems in
Isaiah that contain a message of hope for God’s people in exile. Luke directs
us to the “voice of one crying out in the wilderness.” He speaks of valleys
that will be filled, mountains that will be flattened, and crooked ways that
will be made straight, so that “all flesh
shall see the salvation of God.”
The Hebrew
Scriptures echoed in the words of John the Baptist provide a background of hope
and the framework for understanding the significance of the One whom John
proclaims. In Luke’s gospel, the core of the ministry
and message of Jesus is the saving power of God through Jesus Christ, grounded
in the universal embrace of God’s love. This is what the people of the
wilderness hope for. This is what they await.
All
of this, says Luke, is grounded in history, having occurred “In the fifteenth
year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, when Pontius Pilate was governor of
Let us turn now to our own history, and to our own
wilderness.
In the seventh year of the presidency of George W. Bush,
when Robert Taft was governor of
The occasion was the 12th annual Angel Tree
Ceremony and Homicide Memorial Service sponsored by the Victim Assistance
Program. You may have seen the article about it in the Beacon Journal on Tuesday.
For the past few years I have delivered the invocation
and the benediction at that ceremony. Let me tell you about it. It’s not an
easy story to tell, or to hear.
The ceremony is attended by the families and friends of
The families and friends of the victims walk up to the
trees, one by one, and give the name of the person who died, their relationship
to that person, and, usually, the date the person was killed. Sometimes they’ll
tell the story of what happened. And sometimes they’ll talk about where they
are in their own journey. Then they hang their angel on the tree.
The people there are a cross-section of society. Some individuals
come to the ceremony year after year. Watching the ritual of remembrance is
powerful beyond words. We see raw emotions of anger, grief and rage, and hear cries
of outrage and longing for justice.
This is life in the wilderness of
We see other things, too—hints of new life in this
community gathered to remember death. Heads nodding in agreement at shared
experience, hugs of support, the visible relief of being among others who
understand. Stirrings of hope. Signs of awakening.
In a government office building in
And thou, child, shalt be called
the prophet of the Highest,
for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord
to prepare his ways;
To give knowledge of salvation unto his people
for the remission of their sins, Through the tender mercy of our God,
whereby the dayspring from on high
hath visited us;
To give light to them that sit in
darkness
and in the shadow of death,
and to guide our feet into the
way of peace.