Richard Davenport

December 8, 2024 – 2nd Sunday in Advent

Malachi 3:1-7

                I’ve done martial arts off and on for a number of years now.  I started back some 20 years ago and fell out of it for quite a while and have gotten back into it coming out here.  Paul and I take martial arts together and it’s been an interesting journey so far. Even if it isn’t really your thing, you’ve probably seen martial arts in some form or another, whether in movies, when someone is giving classes at a community center, when watching the Olympics or something like that. 

There’s a certain amount of overlap between martial arts and sports.  They both work your body and require a lot of practice.  Both can be good exercise, cardio, flexibility, strength training, and so forth. But, martial arts tends to be different in that even older folks who aren’t very strong and aren’t very flexible, can still do well in martial arts.  Most martial arts rely a lot less on strength than they do on skill and training, which isn’t the case in a lot of sports.

Because physical strength isn’t as big a factor in martial arts, it ends up being something you can not only continue to do throughout your life, it’s something you can always be improving at.  Even people who have been practicing for decades will find things to work at to be better.

That idea is very important, because without it, you’ll come to the conclusion that you’ve already learned everything there is to learn about the art. You’re as good as you can possibly be. Or you’ll be one of the many who don’t really like the idea of putting the hard work to get better.  You’re someone who just wants the recognition. You want the belt, the trophy, the patch, or whatever it is that others will look at and honor you as a master. You look for the short cuts that will get you what you want with as little effort as possible.

Neither of those answers really work.  The only way to improve is through effort.  Hours and hours, weeks and weeks, months and months, years and years of practice.  Only those who acknowledge there is room for improvement will actually improve.

The prophecy given through Malachi in the reading for this morning is one of a couple we associate with John the Baptist.  He is the one who prepares the way of the Lord.  Malachi gives us the last prophetic word of God in the Old Testament.  While God is always active in defending and caring for his people, we don’t see another prophet until John the Baptist arrives on the scene.  Those who takes Malachi’s message to heart should be keenly awaiting this new messenger, for his arrival will mean the Lord is not far behind. 

The Gospel writers and Jesus himself make clear that John is the one foretold long ago.  Some made the connection, but many did not.  Those who did benefited from the opportunity to be a part of Jesus’ ministry from the very beginning.  They wouldn’t be ones still waiting, despairing that God would never get around to fulfilling his promise.  They would be eager and excited, knowing the time had finally come.  When Jesus began his ministry, they would be ready to flock to him and follow him.

There were many others who heard what John said, and what Jesus would later say, about sin, forgiveness, death and life, and decide they didn’t really need it.  Why do I need to improve when I’m already the best?  I’m already perfect and I have all of the credentials to prove it. 

That’s what they told everyone at any rate.  Rather than actually do what was necessary to get to where they should be. They just put on a show.  They just acted like they were that good without putting in the hard work.  John the Baptist isn’t fooled and neither is Jesus.  Both point out the flaws, the imperfections, the shortcomings.  They can act cool all they want, but they are warned that they will eventually be put in their place.

Whether you’re talking about martial arts or whether you’re talking about living a life of righteousness, the expectation is that you will improve. The expectation is that you will put in the time and effort necessary to do better.  In either case, there is much to be gained by going through the process. There are many virtues that you can develop by persevering through the rigor and difficulty.

You could probably go into great detail looking at the overlap in these two ideas, but there are places where they diverge substantially.  You can find other ways to gain the benefits of martial arts training.  You can have your own exercise routine.  You can go running for cardio.  You can lift weights to build muscle.  You can find other ways to defend yourself, perhaps carrying a gun or pepper spray or something like that.  But, there is no substitute for righteousness.  There is nothing else that will do the job and you can’t fake your way through it.  What’s more, there are serious consequences for not achieving it.  It’s the one requirement for getting in the door into God’s Kingdom.  Without it, you have nothing.

The other big difference is that in martial arts, as in most things you might try, cooking, sports, foreign languages, trade skills, a little effort and dedication will mean you will eventually get better.  The more you practice, the better you’ll get.  That’s not the case with righteousness.  There is no getting better.  No matter how much effort you put into it, you’ll never get the slightest bit better at it.  Righteousness in this sense isn’t something you can even get progressively better at. Either you are or you aren’t.  No half measures will do it.

This is the message carried by Malachi and continued by John.  Not only are you not righteous, despite whatever you might think, but you aren’t even capable of doing what is necessary to become righteous, and that’s assuming you even wanted to in the first place.  As Malachi speaks to the Israelites, he reminds them of how they came to be counted righteous in the first place.  It wasn’t because they brought offerings, gifts, or any other kind of work they might do.  It is because he came as a purifier and a refiner, purging the impurities among them both individually and as a nation.  They were counted righteous because he had made them that way.  They were like lumps of silver ore.  The ore is thrown into the smelter and heated until it all melts.  The rock and other minerals that come with the silver when it is mined have different densities.  That means they all separate out when melted and all of the stuff you don’t want can be skimmed off and disposed of. 

It's not exactly a peaceful process.  It breaks everything down so that what is impure, what isn’t wanted can be removed.  It doesn’t work any other way.  A jeweler can’t use the silver right out of the ground.  He won’t be able to form it and shape it the way he wants in order to make something useful or beautiful.  There’s no middle ground here either.  There is only something pure and ready to be shaped or there is something impure and worthless. 

The Israelites of old had a problem, one that continued in the life of John the Baptist and Jesus, and that continues here and throughout the world today. Many people think they are already as good as they will ever need to be.  There are many other people who don’t really want to be better, but they want other people to think they are better.  When tested, both will be found to be worthless and thrown away. 

John the Baptist lays it out as well.  God will return as judge, not just to refine his people, but all people. Those who are pure will be kept and those who are not will be thrown away.  When our teacher, our judge, our Lord comes to you and declares that you are impure, that you are not good enough, is your response to argue and debate with him?  Is it to show off the many qualifications and accomplishments you’ve attained?  Is it to say those things don’t really matter anyway? Or is it to take that honest look at yourself and agree with him?

Malachi’s name in Hebrew means “My messenger,” an appropriate name for a prophet. John the Baptist comes along doing much the same thing Malachi did, proclaiming the message.  The message hasn’t really changed.  It still hasn’t.  Sin is impurity and impurity makes the whole substance worthless.  It needs to be made pure and clean for it to be useful and only the refiner can make that happen.  It isn’t a fun process, admission of sin and guilt never is, but it is a necessary process and one where the end is guaranteed to be better than the beginning.

God’s declaration is always certain.  If you are a sinner, then you deserve death.  You deserve to be thrown out into the darkness.  At the same time, you can’t do anything to change your status as a sinner.  This is all why the crucifixion of Christ was necessary.  Jesus goes to the cross carrying every impurity, every thought, word, or deed you or I have ever committed that separates us from him.  He may be meek and humble, but he is by no means passive.  Jesus actively draws all of the sins of the world to himself.  As he shows throughout his ministry, impurities don’t taint him. Instead, he cleanses them, making pure what was once impure.  Sins go to Jesus to be destroyed.  What remains is the beautiful form and substance that God created, shining like pure gold and silver. 

In Advent, we think about what is coming.  We prepare for the arrival of the savior.  Despite how the world around us twists the purpose of this time, it is not a time of light and joy.  It is a time when we revisit the gloom and darkness of a world lost in its sin.  It is a time we remember that we ourselves were part of that world, lost in our own sins.  We are not perfectly pure.  We do not deserve all of the cheers and accolades that come with being righteous.  We deserve to be cast away and forgotten.  

It is into this world that the refiner comes to do his work.  The refiner judges whether we are pure or not, but he is also the one who takes it upon himself to make us pure.  It is in humble repentance that we acknowledge no amount of acting more qualified than we are, no amount of downplaying the need will get us where we need to be.  We offer our sins to him and he takes them on himself, never to return. 

This Advent, we reflect on who we are and we look ahead with wonder at how our savior sees our terrible predicament and chooses to do what is necessary to save us.  We look at how he, out of love, chooses to deal with our sin in the only way possible, by taking them on himself and dying, that the sin may die too.  We look ahead to the birth of our savior and the work he will accomplish on our behalf.  We offer him our sins in repentance and we receive his grace in faith and trust.  We look with joy to the one who makes us pure and clean again, fit for a place in his kingdom.  We look to the one who saw us, loved us, and wanted to save us.