A Reed Shaken by The Wind

You will not be able to stay home brother.

You will not be able to tune in, turn on and cop out.

Because the revolution will not be televised.

-Gil Scott Heron, The Revolution will not be Televised.

Probably my favorite part of Advent is getting to spend at least a week with John the Baptist, in year A of the Revised Common Lectionary, we get two gospel readings from Matthew relating to the wild man in the wilderness, except this week he's in prison, and he sends word to Jesus, asking if Jesus is the one for whom he and all of the world is waiting.  I've got a whole sermon ready to go about that, but as is sometimes the case, there's more than I can probably fit into a reasonable sermon, and it's pageant week so only about 20 people are going to hear it at our small early service.  But it's an important moment, and, for me at least, a powerful and freeing moment.
See, I have felt very much imprisoned lately, (you may have noticed if you've been reading this blog) trapped by the angst of our world, all the nasty things that have polluted our common discourse, all the things I would rather not explain to my children about the Herods and Caesars who run this world.  I want Jesus to make it all better, preferably in some big-bang-flash moment of apocalyptic glory.  I want to go back to the days in the wilderness, sometimes that means the Camino, the clarity and the simplicity of simply putting one foot in front of the other.  But other times the wilderness is more of a frame of mind, a place where I can shout with certainty that the Kingdom of Heaven has drawn near and tell people to repent.  I would very much like to be that Prophet, standing waist deep in the Jordan crick and calling the wealthy, powerful and influential, a brood of vipers.
But lately I feel like I'm in prison, now I feel powerless.  I do not feel empowered to hope in the kingdom of the world any longer, it has been handed over to the destroyers and ravagers of the earth and those who will rip and tear at the flesh of the poor.  And I want Jesus to give me some assurance that the solution to it all is right around the corner.  But he doesn't.  I'm not going to get out of this jail anytime soon, because that's not how this works.
"From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force." (Matt. 11: 12 NRSV)
The thing is, nothing has really changed.  That was true before, that is true now. Honestly, my hope in the grand solution of worldly power was misplaced.  Herod has always been in control, the principalities and powers are always going to run the show, and the Kingdom of Heaven is going to draw near to us despite all of that.
I never really noticed the despair of the Baptist in prison before, but this year it has grabbed me by the neck. Oddly enough, it sort of makes me feel better.  Why?  Maybe it's sort of like the blues, just knowing that someone else is in prison with me.  Maybe it's because I know the Kingdom of Heaven can't be stopped by Donald Trump's Tweets or Hillary Clinton's emails or fake news or confirmation bias or white nationalism.  Maybe it's because I know that the Kingdom is not far off just waiting for the right time to happen, but it's every day right in front of us, among us and coming to be through us.  Not through the great and the powerful, not through Herod or Caesar or the brood of vipers, but through us.
Sometimes your false hopes need beheaded and crucified before you can see how exactly the Kingdom of Heaven is coming, not a pleasant process to be sure, but maybe something has turned. I'm tired of being worried about whatever is going on with the Empire. It's all vanity and chasing after the wind.
I'm going to watch the world with open eyes. I'm going to look for the signs of the Kingdom: hope, peace, joy and love. You have to look hard, because the news doesn't cover them, not good enough ratings.  If the media is biased, it's not against right or left, it's against the signs of grace breaking into the world. What's happening in Herod's palace seems more important. the latest edict from Caesar on his throne will get all of our attention.
That's why the church, all people of faith really, need to be the witnesses, to tell what we see and hear, to give hope to the ones who are being put away and imprisoned. We are still the Prophets who see and testify to the coming of the Kingdom. People who were blind to the grace of God in the world seeing the Kingdom drawing near that's worth watching for.  People who were deaf to the word of the Lord hearing, that's worth listening to.  Those who were lame, unclean, broken, poor and outcast being made whole, forgiven and welcomed into the good news of the Kingdom... Let anyone with eyes see, and anyone with ears listen.