Words for the Beginning
Luke 3:1-20
December 15, 2024
David Collins
Why do we watch Christmas movies every year? To feel good! There’s Clark Griswold losing his mind trying to give his family the “perfect” Christmas, George Bailey giving up every dream he ever had so a bunch of ungrateful townspeople don’t end up homeless, even Buddy the Elf spreading cheer one awkward conversation at a time—and we love it. We love them because they’re actually out there, trying to do some sort of good. Sure, they’re stumbling around, screwing up, but still they’re trying to make something better for someone else.
That’s what we’re all supposed to be doing, right?
Do Good
But this idea is also an indictment, a constant reminder that there’s a mountain of problems out there— poverty, climate change, healthcare, racism, misogyny, Russian disinformation, pets without homes, kids without shoes,—I don’t know! There’s a million categories of “need” at this point. It’s like an avalanche of issues.
It’s not like you can just pick one good deed and be done, right? I can’t just say, “Oh, I gave blood once in 2004. I’m good!” No, you have to keep topping it up: you did one good thing, great—now what’s next? Feed the hungry, hug an orphan, recycle something complicated.
And I’m not saying you shouldn’t do good. I’m just saying the pressure... is a lot!
That’s the trap of doing good in a world that’s so completely messed up. You’re always behind, always guilty, and there is always this voice in the back of your head saying, “Hey buddy, better do some good today! You’re probably not doing enough, and even if you do something, there’s ten other things you should be doing!"
So how do we figure out what is ours to do?
Obviously, we can't do everything.
But we sure can't do nothing either.
Fortunately, we aren't the first ones who struggle with questions like this.
Today, we're looking at passage that we look at every Advent, which is funny because it's the least Christmas-y passage ever...well maybe not ever...I can think of some things in the Old Testament that would be a bit more out of pocket. But it's the least Christmas-y thing that we consistently read in December.
Kind of like how we watch Die Hard every Christmas. Is it a Christmas movie, or is it a movie set at Christmas? That’s the question, isn’t it? But it's a great movie, and this is a great passage. And it's very fitting with what we're talking about today. And with what the world is going through right now.
It starts out with a long Lukan setting, which is a long winded way of saying that this really happened at a very particular time in the history of the world. It's like the opposite of once upon a time.
We're supposed to understand the context to understand the passage. But even without digging into that, look at this long list of seven important men, starting with the most important man in the world at the time, a man known as the God-Emporer, and then going down the list in decreasing levels of power, but still very notable and important people, and watch who the word of God comes to. That's the whole point of the verse. Who is the word of God going to come to?
Luke 3
In the fifteenth year of the reign of Emperor Tiberius, (not him) when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, (not him either) and Herod was ruler of Galilee, (nah) and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, (not him either) and Lysanias (nope) ruler of Abilene, (but you know, they're all pagan occupiers, maybe if they were important to the Jewish religion, how about these guys) 2 during the high-priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas, the word of God came to (not them either!)
2 the word of God came to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.
John was a nobody and his father was just a priest. Not anyone who was import at all. But he is who the word of God came to. To John McClane. No, to John the Baptist.
3 He went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins,
Repentance means stopping doing the bad stuff and starting to do the good stuff. A baptism like that was a symbol that said all the old bad things you did were washed away, and so was the way that you didn't do good either, and now you had a fresh start. And in that world, that context that Luke starts off with, it was an experience that people desperately needed. You see, living under Roman occupation created all kinds of new social and moral problems for people. In order to survive, people compromised their values and religious identity because they felt like they had no other choice. So John's ministry was a hit. People wanted it. He didn't go to them, they came to him, in the middle of nowhere, because he was speaking to what was really going on, using the words of their shared scriptures.
4 as it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah,
‘The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
“Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
5 Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”’
It's a promise that one day God will fix all the things, and right all the wrongs. But it's not just God's action is it? The people are called to prepare his way. Remove the obstacles in his path. But what are they? It's an old question, and one that everyone hopes they already have the right answer to. "God's biggest obstacle is the thing that bothers me personally." How convenient! We all do that though. But this time, the crowds came all that way not just to hear what they wanted to hear, but what God had to say through John.
7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, ‘You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?
That's quite an opener! But it's not a rhetorical device. And he's not just negging them, either. I think John is highlighting how deeply they’ve become part of a corrupt system. It's a miracle when the whole brood of vipers recognizes that they are indeed vipers. When everyone you see is also a viper, it seems normal. But here they are, coming and asking for help.
That's why John is asking who warned them, I think. Because the ‘wrath to come’ isn’t some random punishment from God dropped out of nowhere; it’s the natural consequence of the twisted social environment they’ve helped sustain. In other words, John is amazed they even see the situation for what it is, given how thoroughly they’re tangled up in it.
So what can they do about it? Recognizing you have a problem is the first step, but it's only the first step. The rest of them are where the work gets done. Here's how John describes them. He says,
8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance.
Words aren't enough. You have to actually DO something. Who you are...who you say you want to be...has to bear fruit in your life. It has to turn into actions. We're going to come back to this, because the text does. But, John tries to pre-empt the most common objection to being told that you actually have to do something..."Do you know who I am?" "Do you know who my father is?" "My family built this country, sir." Right??!! So John says,
Do not begin to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our ancestor”; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.’
10 And the crowds asked him, ‘What then should we do?’
They got it. They know that they need to do good, and they are likely ready to do whatever John says they should do. If they are worked up into enough of a fervor, they might even move out here to the desert and become a part of whatever alternative society John might have in mind. Might be nice, right? Leave the rat race behind? Stop having to worry about what the Romans soldiers will do? Stop having to respond to what their hated collaborator neighbors might say next? Just leave! It's simpler in a way. Maybe that's what God wants them to do?
But no.
11 In reply he said to them, ‘Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.’
John's definition of bearing fruits worthy of repentance sounds annoyingly just like every other moral person who ever lived's definition of doing good.
No special conspiracy to get turned on to. No way to do bad and call it good because you're on the side of the angels. Just responding to the needs around you in every way that you can. Just doing the thing that needs to be done with the skills and abilities that you already have.
Just do good.
And it a good that is open to everyone to do! Even those dangerous Roman soldiers and those despised collaborators with the hated regime can do good right where they are.
12 Even tax-collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, ‘Teacher, what should we do?’ 13 He said to them, ‘Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.’
14 Soldiers also asked him, ‘And we, what should we do?’ He said to them, ‘Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.’
If I was writing it, John would say, “Tax collectors, drop your abacuses and join the resistance! Soldiers, throw down your swords and desert the Roman army!” But that’s not what he says, is it? He actually tells them to keep their jobs—but to do them ethically.
At first glance, it feels like a missed opportunity, right? Don’t we want a prophet who demands dramatic action, who calls for immediate revolution? Don’t we want a clean break from corruption and compromise?
But the word of God that came to John does not operate on our timeline or according to our expectations. The Kingdom of God isn’t coming by one grand, sweeping act. It’s coming right in the thick of ordinary life, through a slow, steady infiltration of goodness into the very structures we find so problematic.
John is telling them—and us—to trust that God will handle the ultimate Messianic business of cosmic justice. In the meantime, we are to do the good that is ours to do, even if it’s within a flawed system, even if it feels insufficiently dramatic.
Now, this isn’t an endorsement of the status quo. The tax collectors don’t have to become freedom fighters, but they do have to stop ripping people off. The soldiers don’t have to stage a coup, but they must stop using their power to bully and extort. Doing those good things could change both the tax system and the lives of the people who are most at risk. They could create a culture within powerful organizations that reject the idea that might makes right, which is no small thing.
That’s the challenge of doing good. It’s not always glamorous. It often doesn’t feel revolutionary. But according to John —and ultimately according to Jesus— this faithful, everyday goodness is part of how the Kingdom arrives.
Doing good is important, but even more important is doing the good that is yours to do.
Do the good that is yours to do.
How do you figure that out?
I have a few ideas.
First, you have to
Own Your Particular Responsibility
The tax collectors didn’t ask John what the soldiers should do. They asked him what they needed to do.
And his answer was directly related to the challenges they faced as tax collectors. He didn’t give them an out. He didn’t say, well so long as you love your family well, that’s all God cares about. He didn’t say, “This whole system isn’t your fault, therefore it’s not your responsibility.” No! He called them to repentance about things they, and others like them, had done, and told to do better.
They didn’t say, “Well, not ALL tax collectors are dishonest” and then miss the good that was theirs to do while they nursed their hurt feelings. They didn’t compare themselves to the soldiers and say, ‘Well at least we’re not THAT bad.”
We are all always looking for proof that we’re right and good and don’t need to change a thing. So when we do see ourselves clearly in the mirror, our gut reaction temptation is to look away, or look at someone else. Don’t.
Before you can do good, you have to do better. That starts with accountability.
Just like the tax collectors and soldiers, you are called to see your own vocation, and allegiances, and moral blind spots as the primary place where you must do better. That is the good that is yours to do, because its the good that only you can do.
Once you do that, you can see other kinds of good that are yours to do, too.
Start with your Sphere of Influence
One way to discover your specific good is to look honestly at who you are and where you’ve been placed. Look at your roles—are you a parent, teacher, business owner, a community volunteer? Think about your talents, your training, and the people who cross your path every day. These aren’t random details. They are clues to what kind of good you can and should be doing. If you’re a teacher, your good involves guiding students ethically and compassionately. If you’re a business owner, you have to run your enterprise with integrity and generosity. If you’re a parent, your good is dealing with your own garbage so you don’t pass it on to your kid.
The good that is yours to do is inextricably linked to your life. It’s not an escape from it, but a commitment further into it, and an expectation that God really and truly cares about it.
That means that there is also good that is NOT yours to do. Right? Duh? So you also need to
Trust Others with their Good
You can’t do it all. You can’t even really do your stuff, not perfectly. Boundaries aren’t just for keeping you out of other people’s business. They’re also like blinders to help you do better with your own. Ideally, that’s good news that frees you from some guilt that will only paralyze you, and frees you for the guilt that might actually help you. But until you can articulate what the good is that is yours to do, you’ll never be able to name what isn’t.
One more. And it’s a doozy.
Respond to What’s Going On
The good that is yours to do is not only shaped by who you are, but also by what’s happening right now. Circumstances change and new challenges arise. The tax collectors and soldiers were products of their time, and so are we. They didn’t get to say that their good was solely personal and spiritual and neither do we.
When things change, we can’t say, “That’s not my problem,” when it’s clearly unfolding in front of us and we have the means to help. The good that is yours to do is not just active. It must always also be re-active. Not primarily, but always ready.
When you act in a responsive way, you join the work God is doing in the world, right now, right where you are. And you recognize and act on your faith that while it might feel like a surprise to you, it wasn’t one to God.
God put you there, to be you, and to do the good that only you can do, wherever he put you.
Which leads me to my final point—something that I believe firmly, and you’re welcome to disagree, but I don’t care. Ready to hear it?
Die Hard is a Christmas movie.
It’s not just a movie set at Christmas. It’s a Christmas movie. Or more precisely…it’s an Advent Movie. Now, I’m not endorsing violence—far from it. But think about it…What if John McClane, that other John we turn to every December for guidance on how to live, when he was in Nakatomi Plaza on Christmas Eve, had shrugged and said, “I’m just here to work on my marriage. This isn’t my building, not my jurisdiction, not my problem.”
It would have been easier to look away and let someone else handle it. But he didn’t. He rose to the occasion, as messy and complicated as it was, to do what he could with what he had, right where he was.
So no, we’re not facing terrorists in skyscrapers. But we are surrounded by deep moral challenges and real opportunities to stand up to the evils of this world. We don’t have to solve it all, nor do we have to walk across broken glass. But we also can’t pretend it’s not our problem when it’s right in front of us. We can’t say, “Not my fault, so not my responsibility” and walk away.
Advent reminds us that God enters into our complicated world, and will one day come back to fix it all. When the crowds that day thought that maybe John was going to be that guy who would set all the things right, he said,
3:16 ‘I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing-fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.’
As we wait for Christ’s coming, we trust that God is going to handle the big story, while we just handle our clause. But stories are made out of sentences, aren’t they.
So, as we continue in this Advent season, remember: God is doing something bigger than we can imagine. God is handling the Messianic business of cosmic justice. Our part is to do the good that is ours to do, right here and now.
As we wait and hope for Christ’s coming, every honest day’s work, every moment of integrity, every choice to respond to need rather than turn away…Every faithful act helps prepare the way of the Lord.
Do the good that is yours to do.
That’s the challenge. It’s a simple phrase but not an easy calling. And maybe it would be nice if life gave us some dramatic chance to be heroes in a big way. Often, though, God calls us to show up and do what’s needed in ordinary places: in our families, our jobs, our communities, in our nation.
So do the good that is yours to do. And trust that as you do, God is at work, weaving our faithful actions into the redemption of the world.
Amen.
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