Second Sunday of Advent
Sunday, December 7, 2008
St. David’s Episcopal Church, DeWitt NY
The Rev. James C. Bresnahan, Interim Rector
“Pointing to the Way”
Throughout my childhood in New York City, my parents took me to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I do admit that in the earliest years my interest lay not in the works of the masters, but in the fake Egyptian burial chamber at the entry doors, and in the adjoining room of dead people, called mummies. But as I grew older, I came to appreciate the paintings and sculpture of great artists, especially the religious works of the Middle Ages.
It was natural for me later, in the church I served for 25 years, always to be on the lookout for art to adorn the walls of its rooms – reproductions of classical pieces as well as contemporary religious works from the world over.
Yes, I cared about aesthetics. But more importantly, I wanted art to move and challenge people as much as I wanted my sermons to.
Sermons are interpretations, expositions of biblical texts. But they are spoken but once, and then they are gone, no more to be heard again. But works of art have their existence in space. Works of religious art are timeless sermons, which never stop speaking and moving the minds and hearts of those who gaze on them. They continually draw beholders into the mystery of interpretation.
The text we heard read today features John the Baptist. He is described as a messenger sent by God to prepare the way for Jesus. He is a forerunner, who walks before Jesus and then steps to the side, much like a bridesmaid who walks first down the aisle but then moves left for the bride to take center stage.
A most dramatic visual presentation of this in art is found on the Isenheim altarpiece, now housed in a museum in Colmar, in the Alcase region of France. It is the monumental work of Mathias Gruenewald and dates from the early 16th century.
On the left side of the center panel the mother of Jesus and two followers are portrayed in deep grief.
On the right side stands John the Baptist. In one hand he holds the Scriptures of the Old Testament. His other hand holds nothing, but is pointing to the crucified Jesus who forms the large image at dead center. Although John’s bright red robe draws your eyes first to John, himself, immediately his sideways glance and extended arm quickly transfer your gaze to Jesus. He wants you to look at Jesus.
The altarpiece is a brilliant capturing of the Gospel accounts and the role John played in preparing the way for Jesus.
I want for a while now to draw your attention away from the first century John the Baptist to images and descriptions of people more contemporary, who have likewise prepared the way.
I invite you to reflect first on any who prepared you for your life within Christian community. And second I invite you to reflect on your being a forerunner and pointing others to life in God.
Would you form first in your mind an image of someone whose words and deeds led you into deeper Christian experience? One who pointed you not to herself or himself, as the center of attention, but who led you selflessly into a life of faith, of hope, and of love in God. And while you are holding that image before your eyes, I’ll tell you about the image in my mind.
Her name was Frieda Weiss – one of three unmarried sisters living together who devoted themselves to Christian service, particularly to children. Each Wednesday afternoon they opened their ground level apartment for released time Christian education. I was there more often than that. My father was a drinking alcoholic, and their home was a safe haven for me. And always, beside the conversation, there was milk and cookies.
Frieda had contracted polio as a child, which left her severely crippled. Her arms and legs were supported by heavy metal braces, which along with crutches allowed her to walk but ever so slowly. Each Sunday morning, she would walk three long blocks to church to teach Sunday School to young children. Her class met in an upstairs room, which took great effort for her to reach. And this she did Sunday after Sunday for decades of her life, leading children to love Jesus, who they learned loved them.
I was a student in her class. I know that I didn’t grasp or appreciate at the time all that she did in spite of personal adversity. But looking back, I don’t think I would be standing here today as priest, or even as Christian, apart from her devotion to pointing me, as she did others, to the love of God in Jesus Christ. It was from her that I first heard the Christmas story, not from my non-attending church parents. It was from her I first heard and sang the carols of Christmas. It was because of her I was led to join shepherds at the manger.
Now, holding in your mind the image of someone who pointed or led you to a deeper Christian experience, I invite you to give thanks to God for one or more of them; someone who was not in it for himself or herself, but for you to live a life of faith, hope, and love; someone who did not want to be the center of attention, but wanted you to be drawn into a deeper experience of God. Thank God for that person now in the silence of your heart!
Second, I invite you to reflect on yourself as forerunner, as one God has called to point others to a deeper experience of faith, hope, or love. Perhaps as parent or grandparent; as a neighbor or friend; perhaps as a Church School teacher; or mentor, or at your work, or on a hospital visit. Whatever, wherever, reflect for a moment on the role you play and can as one who, like John the Baptist, helps others to experience the goodness of God. For that is your calling too.
You know, it’s only through our eyes that we see the universe. We can’t see through others’ eyes. We see as if we are at the center of things. We see as if we are at the center of the universe, with everything revolving around ourselves. But through wisdom, through the grace of God, we come to understand that we are not at the center of things, but one part of a vast universe, whose center is not in any one of us. We discover by God’s grace, that there is a center that cannot be seen, which is the ground of all love. And we discover that we best realize our own life’s purpose when our words and actions point away from ourselves to that center; when we don’t need center stage in our relationships, but make our goal pointing others to that center, for others’ lives to be grounded in it.
And how much easier it will be to die, when we realize that it never was or is all about me, but about a love that lets no one go, not even in death.
John the Baptist lived but a short time after pointing to Jesus. Like Jesus, he died a gruesome death. But he is forever remembered as one who prepared the way and pointed others to the way.
Oh yes, the portrait of John the Baptist on the Isenheim altarpiece, you can see a photo of it on the table at the entryway.
