Father Gary’s
Sermon
Inspired from
Matthew 3:1-12
Proclaimed on
December 5, 2004
During this time of the year I have a fond
remembrance of my favorite cartoon strip, which regrettably is no longer being
produced. The strip was called Calvin &
Hobbs that was about a very obnoxious little boy named Calvin
who had a very lively and vivid imagination. A large part of his imagination
brought a stuffed toy tiger of his to life, a tiger he called Hobbs. Not
only was Hobbs his best friend, as well as his playful nemesis, but Hobbs was
also his truth detector. In one comic strip a couple of years back Calvin is
writing a letter to Santa Claus, one of many. He writes:
Dear Santa. Before I
submit my life to your moral scrutiny, I
demand to know who made you the master of my fate?” [At this point an angry
scowl crosses his face] “Who are you
to question my behavior? Huh??? What gives you the
right?!”
Hobbs, reading the letter over Calvin’s shoulder,
comments, “Santa makes the toys, so he
gets to decide who to give them to.”
Calvin, looking resigned and pensive, responds “Oh, Oh. Time to prepare my appellate case.”
Calvin’s indignant questioning of who has the right
to judge him is a very human one. I recently read of a note that was placed on
a church’s bulletin board that read, “You must pay
for your sins.” Underneath, some wag had scrawled, “If you have already paid, please disregard this notice.”
Somehow, in a free society such as our own, who has
the right to judge us is almost always debatable. All we have to do is look at
the headlines regarding our national politics to see the comedy of Calvin &
Hobbs being played out in the most tragic of ways. The same was true during the
time of Christ. The Romans had conquered Palestine and the Hebrew people--who
viewed themselves as the children of God--questioned the right of the Romans to
judge them.
Then on to this scene comes this most unusual
person, dressed in the most unusual cloths, who also has a most unusual diet.
His name was John the Baptizer, who could have been a priest in the Temple at
Jerusalem, but who instead has come out of the Wilderness shouting a strange
message. He is promising the coming of a new King. In so doing, he encourages
the people to prepare the way by repenting of their sins. He was drawing large
crowds of people, but his comments were also making the leaders angry, for
instead of condemning their Roman enemies he was turning on the Hebrew
religious authorities. He was threatening them with judgment. Like Calvin,
questioning the right of Santa Claus to judge him, so these people questioned
John’s right to judge them.
This question of who has the right to judge is
played out not only with Calvin & Hobbs, as well as with those ancient
Hebrew people, but it continues to be played out among us as well. While we do
not have a strange looking character, such as John the Baptizer, to come out of
the Wilderness to judge us, we do share with Calvin & Hobbs the coming of
another strange character, the annual coming of Santa Claus. What a day to
consider his being, for tomorrow the Church in much of the world is observing St.
Nicholas Day.
For many of us, Saint Nicholas, otherwise known as
Santa Claus, is a strange little obese figure dressed in funny red cloths who
drives a flying sleigh, propelled by eight reindeer, sometimes nine when one
with a very shiny nose is added. In his younger, more historical years,
however, St. Nick was an equally controversial figure. He was a bishop who
lived in an area that today is known as Turkey. He was a much-loved bishop who
helped his people survive the terrible Roman persecutions under the emperor
Diocletian. He was also one of the authors of the Nicene Creed, which we say
together each Sunday morning. Nicholas is also alleged to have been a slight
figure and carried the nickname Skinny. He was not only known for his
tremendous compassion, but for his temper as well. Indeed, it is said that
Constantine, the first Roman Emperor who claimed to be a Christian and who also
made the bishops throughout the world gather at the town of Nicea in order to
work out their theological differences, had Bishop Nicholas thrown in jail
while attending this convention after he struck another man named Arius. Arius
was then a popular teacher, and whose teachings were condemned at Nicea as heretical.
Perhaps Calvin was right to question St. Nick’s character. After all, his
behavior was not unlike Calvin’s when he would find himself at odds with Hobbs,
or anyone else for that matter.
St. Nicholas was most known for his compassion when
at Christmas time he would give gifts to poor. In one well-known story Nicholas
is said to have helped a poor man provide a dowry for each one of his three
daughters so that they would not have to be sold into slavery or prostitution.
It is said that he would often place gold coins in the homes of poor children,
throwing them down the chimney if the doors or windows were locked. At his
death it is said that miracles occurred at his tomb, which became a very
popular site for pilgrims. When his remains were being transported by sea to
another location, probably Rome, a great storm arose which threatened to
destroy the ship, but the sailors were saved when they prayed that St. Nick
would intervene. Today he is known as the Patron Saint for Sailors, as
well as the Patron Saint of Children.
It is at this point that his legend evolves, for
later St. Nick is said to have showed up in Holland, dressed in his red
fur-lined Bishop’s robes, continuing to dispense gifts to the children.
Sometimes when he would throw gold coins down the chimneys of the poor, they
fell into stockings that were hung near the fire to dry. From there his legend
evolved to such an extent that we have all but forgotten his history and have
made him into some sort of judge. Now, he’s one who “ . . . is making a list, and checking it twice, he’s gonna
find out whose naughty or nice”; and
“he knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you are awake, he knows
when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake.”
Today this strange jolly man dressed in red has sort of become the
children’s John the Baptist, preparing their hearts for the coming of
Christmas, while instilling fear into the hearts of children who happen to be a
bit like Calvin.
However, for at least one person this jolly old elf
became a matter of life or death. It was Christmas Eve in Clarksville,
Tennessee, when Sara Marshall was relaxing in her home on Commerce Street. She
was both elderly and crippled. Her husband had left to run to the market for
some last minute groceries. He locked the door behind him for his wife’s
safety, but he wasn’t gone long before the house started to fill with smoke.
The house was on fire, but Sara couldn’t move to save herself. She was trapped.
Soon, she saw the flames lapping toward her as the thick smoke burned her eyes
and choked her lungs. She saw her demise fast approaching, and of all times on
Christmas Eve. Then there was a terrible crash from the front door of the
house. Someone had kicked the door in. Mrs. Marshall could scarcely make out a
figure groping toward her through the thick smoke. As the figure shuffled
closer, she could see he was dressed in red with a red cap and a bushy white
beard. Grabbing Mrs. Marshall, he pulled her from the burning house, where he
carried her across the street to safety, and wrapped her in a blanket. Then he
disappeared. Soon the fire department arrived, along with the police. The
latter began to interview witnesses. They all testified that “Santa Claus saved
her!” but Santa was nowhere to be found. He was last seen driving away in a . .
. , well you guessed it, . . . a red car filled with Christmas presents.
Soon the town’s radio and TV stations were a buzz.
Who was that bearded man? Later, a woman telephoned the police. It was Santa’s
wife, who shared that this Santa was the 27 year old David Rodriguez, a
husband, father, and high school teacher, who was out delivering toys to kids
on behalf of his home parish.
While this story may not resolve Calvin’s question,
as well as questions of our own, of who has the right to judge us; we are
always in need of these strange figures, whether it be a John the Baptist or a
Santa Claus, to help us evaluate our own behavior and determine whether it is
life-giving or life-diminishing. In many ways these strange figures are our
salvation. These figures call out to us this morning to prepare our hearts and
our lives for the coming of the King, lest we, like little Calvin, be left with
merely the preparation of our appellate cases.