Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
It is tempting today to get up here and sink my teeth into the fresh, red meat of politics. A bloody mouthful of outrage would taste really good right now. And believe me, I’m tempted. My wife is a graduate student, which means, if this tax bill actually gets reconciled and approved by both houses of the Legislature, we’ll suddenly owe more to the government without any inflow of cash to pay for it. If only we had a jet—we could write that off. And as we watch the jockeying around the tax bill, we’ll miss the ongoing attempts through Kris Kobach and his collection of wrecking balls swing into the voting rolls to shatter them, leaving behind the broken suggestion of democracy. And as we turn from that, we see a government that has decided, for the first time, to reduce National Monuments, set aside for posterity and preservation, in order to open them up to exploitation by fossil fuel companies and mineral miners. And, turning from that, you might see the record warmth of this fall, and hear the low moans of climate scientists, and the desperate assurances, like a person who just destroyed a family heirloom, holding the pieces under a light, “Don’t worry, we can fix it, we still have time, we can fix it…” Isaiah has a lot to say to me today—oh that you would rend the heavens and come down, Jesus—make it an Advent worth remembering. Come on down and start some wildfires and earthquakes, and break the power of all the moneyed deathmongers.