A sermon preached on Sunday, December 16, 2012 following the news of a violent attack on an elementary school in Connecticut. Come, Lord Jesus.
Text: Zephaniah 3:14-20
Today is the third Sunday of Advent…the “joy” Sunday. We light a pink candle, reminding us that we wait for the joyous reception of our Lord. We hear “Rejoice in the Lord!” We sing the songs of joy.
And then there are the news headlines this week
Joy hardly seems the appropriate response.
This is what we wrestle with in Advent: the tension between a promise of hope, and peace, and joy – and the reality of what is. It is the contrast between already – the presence of God already and always with us – and not yet – the presence not yet fully realized, and sometimes even quite hidden by the circumstances of our lives and our world.
Friday was a profoundly “not yet” day in our nation. A day when hope and peace seem far away – and joy impossible.
Today, we heard the words of the prophet Zephaniah. We often read the prophets in Advent. We read them because of their ability to see through the haze of the present day to a hopeful future. Prophets “hear God when everybody else has concluded God is silent. They see God where nobody else would guess that God is present” (Deborah A. Block, in Feasting on the Word, Year C, Vol 1, Advent 3 OT PP).
The prophets insist that God is not absent.
We need to hear the prophets today.
We don’t need more words. We have heard more than enough talking heads this weekend. We’ve heard (and read) endless sensationalized headlines, and we’ve heard the same words repeated hour after hour after hour. We don’t need more words. What we need are new words. Words that call us back to God. Words that renew our hope and restore our faith. Words of the prophets.
That’s why, I think, a single verse in Zephaniah’s 3rd chapter grabbed my attention this week. In Zephaniah 3:9, the prophet speaks for God: “At that time I will change the speech of the peoples to a pure speech, that all of them may call on the name of the Lord.”
This verse falls just at the turning point of the tiny book of Zephaniah. The turning point between destruction and despair and a joyous hope for a peaceful future.
The first two and a half of Zephaniah’s three chapters are filled with judgment. Zephaniah lived – as we do – in a time of violence. The Assyrian King Manasseh ruled over Israel then, and Manasseh was a cruel and vengeful king. He practiced child sacrifice and murdered his own family. 2 Kings tells us that “Manasseh spilled so much innocent blood that he filled up every corner of Jerusalem with it” (2 Kings 21:16).
Zephaniah describes the times he lived in as “a day of wrath, a day of distress and anguish, a day of ruin and devastation, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness, a day of alarm” (Zephaniah 1:15). That was his context, his world.
That world feels heartbreakingly similar to our world. For some of us, “distress and anguish” came with the week’s news headlines. For others, it came when the doctor spoke the word “cancer” or the divorce papers arrived or the calendar reminded us of a painful anniversary. The “most wonderful time of the year” can be easily overshadowed by days of “darkness and gloom.”
Zephaniah knew that. And he didn’t try to fill the darkness with sparkling tree lights or drown out the anguish with holiday carols. He didn’t start with joy.
He started by railing against the tragedy, by giving voice to the despair and the horror. He names anger, and pain, and grief. And not just our anger and pain and grief – Zephaniah names God’s anger and suffering, too. At least ¾ of the prophet’s brief words are devoted to calling out the suffering and telling us that God shares it. They are “not yet” words.
He speaks them, and then he sits with them. Our news headlines today repeat hopeless words over, and over, and over again. The prophets don’t. They speak of despair, and then they sit with it as long as they must. So Zephaniah 3:8 calls us to “Wait for the Lord. Wait for the day when the Lord will rise up…”
I imagine, here, a long pause between verse 8: “wait for the Lord” and verse 9: “I that time I will change the speech…they will call on my name.” How long did the prophet have to sit with the despair before finding the courage to pick up the pen and begin writing again, this time of a different future? How long was the wait?
The pause between those verses – that’s Advent. The waiting for a new word, for speech to be changed into praise. That’s where we live.
But it is not where we stay. The prophets knew that judgment was coming. But they also believed it was not the last word.
The last word, Zephaniah says, is a word of joy.
“Rejoice, Daughter Zion! Shout, Israel! Rejoice and exult with all your heart, Daughter Jerusalem.” For “the Lord your God is in your midst; he will create calm with his love; he will rejoice over you with singing” (3:14, 17).
I love these prophetic words – have loved them since I was a college student and first heard them. I love them even more having studied more deeply their context. They are written in the tradition of women’s songs – within the stream of Miriam and Deborah, Mary and Elizabeth – women who lift their voices to praise God and sing for joy even in the midst of some of the most difficult of life’s circumstances. These are the words of women who live with fear and despair, and choose joy anyway.
Their joy isn’t naïve or irresponsible. They don’t turn away from suffering or ignore the pain. They don’t have the luxury of turning away from grief or fear. But they do refuse to give it the last word. They insist that God will yet deliver the lame, gather the outcast, remove our judgment and restore our wellbeing. And that is reason for joy even in the midst of sorrow.
I really struggled to find words to say this morning. It seemed there were already too many words said, and most of them not the right words. But in the end I realized I don’t have to find words, because the prophets have already spoken them for us. “Wait for the Lord.” “Rejoice.” “Do not be afraid.”
So we speak – and sing – words of joy today. We may not feel ready for joy just yet. We don’t have to feel it or receive it, just yet. We can wait as long as we need, trusting that joy will come. And we can, at the same time, believe with fierce insistence that the prophets and the angels speak truth when they say:
“Rejoice, daughter Zion, rejoice and exult with all your heart. I am in your midst, and I will calm you with my love.”
“Fear not, for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.”