If this, the third Sunday of Advent, had a symbol it would be a pair of earphones... because it is a Sunday in which we need to be listening.[Jim puts on a set of earphones here.]

Today, let us listen to Jesus’ favorite prophet, Isaiah, who reminds us that God has always sent prophets of good news, especially to the oppressed, the brokenhearted, the prisoners, and the poor. Isaiah is Jesus’ favorite prophet, Jesus’ most quoted prophet because Isaiah looks directly into the bleeding face of this broken world and in chapter after chapter gives testimony to the God who spoke creation it into being by God’s and who is the God who loves Israel and longs for her faithfulness, and the healing of the world. Isaiah offers no spin, no muddle, no mindless slogan.[Jim removes headphones here.]

Isaiah blends a brutally honest picture of the world’s wounds with an exuberant joy, a hope, a knowledge that the world still belongs to God, that the day will come when God will clear away the wrecked wilderness of the world and bring forth a new creation. In the face of devastation and sadness, in the face of broken hearts and broken lives, Isaiah sings a song of joy. The time of jubilee will come; food, health and liberation. The year of the Lord’s favor will come for all God’s children.

Today, let us hear; let us listen, to John the Baptist who picks up the mantle of Isaiah in his preaching. John stands as a witness, testifying to what is about to happen, and who is about to come. The local clergy surround him and hurl questions his way. They interrogate John but he restricts his response to describing the one who will comes to be light, but who will not be recognized. In contrast to other occasions when we hear John preach, he doesn’t say much of anything, perhaps because he knows so little about what is to happen. There is anger, or perhaps frustration, in the voices of his interrogators, and it is understandable. They, too, have been waiting for the Messiah, the one who would come and redeem the people of Israel. If it is John, they want to know, or if John knows who it is, they’ll take that as well. Perhaps John’s interrogators despair because of the crushing poverty around them, the aggressive violence of the Roman Empire, or over all the brokenhearted people who show up in their offices day after day, week after week, needing advice, seeking hope and peace. If the light is to come, they want it to come now.

Today, let us hear; let us listen to Band Aid:
At Christmastime it’s hard, but when you’re having fun.
     There’s a world outside your window, and it’s a world of dread and fear.
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears.
     And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom.
Do They Know It’s Christmastime At All?
(Paul Young)
It's Christmastime. There's no need to be afraid.
     At Christmastime, we let in light and we banish shade.
(Boy George)
And in our world of plenty, we can spread a smile of joy.
     Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime.
(George Michael)
But say a prayer. Pray for the other ones.
     At Christmastime, it's hard
(Simon Le Bon of 'Duran Duran')
But when you're having fun, there's a world outside your window.
(Sting joins in)
And it's a world of dread and fear,
     Where the only water flowing Is the bitter sting of tears.
(Bono joins in)
And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom.
(Bono only)
Well, tonight thank God It's them instead of you.
(Everyone)
And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime.
     The greatest gift They'll get this year is life, oh ho.
Where nothing ever grows. No rain or rivers flow.
     Do they know it's Christmastime at all?
(Paul Young)
Here's to you. Raise a glass for everyone.
     Here's to them underneath that burning sun.
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?
(Everyone)
Feed the world. Feed the world. Feed the world.
     Let them know it's Christmastime again!

It is quite true, isn’t it? The more we are exposed to the wounds of the world, the more never ending these hurts and wounds and pains become. Emotionally, it is better and far easier to pen ourselves up, to stay in denial, than to embrace the reality of the pain of the world. It is less troubling to surround ourselves with warm memories and good feelings, to remain full of good cheer and eggnog and walk down the sunny side of the street than to truly encounter and enter into our sisters and brothers the depth of hunger, despair and poverty. It is more delightful to be around, cheerful and positive people, those who deserve the title “optimists”! Those folks who declare that they are glass “half full” people as opposed to those who see the glass “half empty”!

But true Christian hope is in fact fundamentally different from optimism. Christian hope does not avert its gaze, but locks its steely eyes on the devastation of the world around it, and readily acknowledges that things may not get better.

Christian hope does not bury its head in yuletide cheer and artificial lights, but like an Advent wreath glowing stronger and brighter each week, it pushes and leaks and wends its way into the brokenness of the world, clearing a path in the wilderness so the true light might burst into the darkness.

Christian hope doesn’t turn in on itself, settling for some inner feeling of self-satisfaction. Rather, it has the courage to work for Isaiah’s, for John’s, for God’s vision of justice, healing and liberation in God’s world. To live justly, to make peace, to share hope is vital because in the final analysis, such work is the most telling testimony and the most powerful witness to the One who is the light of the world. It is the will and purpose of  Jesus, the Light of the world, to end all poverty and pain, all separation and sadness, all illness and isolation, all brokenness and boredom, all pride and prejudice, all torment and torture.

Professor Tom Long from Emory University tells a story about Rabbi Hugo Grynn who was sent to Auschwitz as a little boy. In the midst of the concentration camp, in the midst of the death and horror all around them, many Jews held onto whatever shreds of their religious observance they could without drawing the ire of the guards. One cold winter’s evening, Hugo’s father gathered the family in the barracks. It was the first night of Chanukah, the Feast of Lights. The young child watched in horror as his father took the family’s last pad of butter and made a makeshift candle using a string from his ragged clothes. He then took a match and lit the candle. “Father, no!” Hugo cried. “That butter is our last bit of food! How will we survive!” “We can live for many days without food,” his father said. “We cannot live for a single minute without hope. This is the fire of hope. Never let it go out. Not here. Not anywhere.”

On the third Sunday of Advent, now that we have heard and listened to Isaiah and John the Baptist and Band Aid, we do now know what we need to do. It is clear that we are called, in the name of Jesus Christ, to carry and share and live the message of hope in the world around us. This Christian Hope we now know is not mere optimism, but it is the hope that leads us to cross boundaries and barriers and borders, visible and invisible; across and between the races and cultures, across the socio-economic gap so contrary to the will of God. And there we embrace and are embraced by the needy and the fearful.

Christian hope reminds us that all people are loved by God, and it demands that we work to end poverty and homelessness and despair. This hope propels us to dream and dare new things for our church as a community of hope focused on nurturing in each other and all people a dynamic relationship with our Lord and so point to how our world can be changed.

Without hope, our world will vanish or fall into ruins of our own making.

With hope, lives can be changed, the sick healed, the fearful rescued, the frightened comforted, the forgotten befriended, the proud converted, the greedy saved, the violent silenced, the stranger welcomed.

Our hope lies in one person, in Jesus the Christ: the One who perfectly embodied the vision of God through Isaiah, the One to whom John the Baptist spoke, the One about whose hope Band Aid sang, even though they may not have known it. The focus of this season, the focus of our lives must be on Jesus... and on all those to whom Jesus has sent us to share the hope that is His life and light. Do they know its Christ’s time at all?  Amen.