Kelly LeDoux, Duluth, Minnesota tells about a time when she and her four-year-old son were putting out cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve and she accidentally dropped one of the cookies. “No problem,” she said, picking it up and dusting it off before placing it back on the plate.
“You can’t do that,” argued her four-year-old son.
“Don’t worry,” Mom said, “Santa will never know.”
Her son shot her a look. “So he knows if I’ve been bad or good,” her son said, “but he doesn’t know the cookie fell on the floor?”
Good point. “Oh, you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I’m telling you why, Santa Claus is coming to town. he’s making a list, he’s checking it twice, he’s going to find out who’s naughty and nice, Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake . . .” (1)
Parents love the idea that for the weeks leading up to Christmas their children might be on their best behavior. Why? Because “you know who” might be watching . . . Of course, many adults have a Santa Claus philosophy on life too. You better behave yourself. After all, God is watching your every action. “God sees you when you’re sleeping, God knows when you’re awake, God knows when you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake . . .”
Obviously, I’m not knocking being good. Being good is really the only way to experience the abundant life. Anyone who has tried the alternative will tell you it’s true. Anyone who spends their lives rebelling against the sensible laws of right living will discover they are only deluding themselves that it will give them any lasting happiness. If your primary reason for keeping the law is fear of divine punishment, you’re on the wrong path.
It’s like a woman that Dr. Fred Craddock tells about in a little Methodist church he was serving in Newport, Tennessee. Each Sunday this dear woman would get up and shoot down the aisle out of the church as soon as Craddock was done preaching.
“Why is it that you get up and leave after the sermon, Joanne?” Craddock asked.
Her answer was that when she was just ten or eleven years old, she was at a service, and after the sermon they sang a hymn, and they sang and sang and sang. People started going through the congregation,” she said. “And the minister came down and took hold of my hand. ‘Little girl,’ he said, ‘do you want to go to hell?’ She said, “He scared me to death, and so I leave before all that starts.” (2)
I believe I would get out of there in a hurry myself if I knew I was going to be confronted with such a distorted presentation of the Gospel. Some people have turned the Good News into bad news. That’s the truth of the matter. Some people have turned the Gospel of Jesus Christ--into bad news.
The late Kenneth Chafin in one of his sermons tells about a relative of his, a delightful woman, sharp and articulate, who quit going to church years ago because the church of which she was a member was such a killjoy. Some of the deacons would slip over to the high school the night of the Saturday dance and mark down all the young people of the church who were dancing. The deacons would give their names to the pastor who then called them out from the pulpit on Sunday morning. (3)
No wonder people quit coming to church. No one likes tattle-tales. Those deacons had turned the good news into bad news. Let me tell you a similar story that has a much better ending because of the motivation involved.
Jawanza Kunjufu, in his book Restoring the Village, tells about something that happened to him when he was a fourteen year old high school freshman. School was dismissed early for a teachers’ meeting. Jawanza conveniently neglected to tell his parents about the change of schedule and arranged to bring his girlfriend over to his house. They weren’t planning to study, as you might imagine.
As they were going up the steps of Jawanza’s house, a next-door neighbor, Mrs. Nolan, poked her head out of a window and said, “You’re home awfully early, Jawanza.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, improvising a lame story about how they planned to review algebra problems.
“Does your mother know you’re home this early,” Mrs. Nolan persisted, “and do you want me to call her?”
At this, Jawanza says he gave up. “No, Ma’am,” he said, “I’ll go inside and call her while Kathy sits on the porch.”
Now you may think--what a busybody--but here is what an older and wiser Jawanza had to say about that experience. “Mrs. Nolan saved our careers that day,” says Jawanza, “If Kathy and I had [followed through on our plans],” he continued, “she might not have become the doctor she is today. And my father had warned me that if I [fathered a child out of wedlock], the mutual fund he set up for me to go to college or start a business would have gone to the child. I’m glad Mrs. Nolan was at her window,” he says now, “looking out for me.” (4)
I am too. And so is every right-thinking person. At some time in our lives all of us need a Mrs. Nolan looking out for us. Particularly in our younger years, but let’s face it, there are potential stumbling blocks all through life for people of every age.
Here’s a word I want you to remember. John the Baptist is our Mrs. Nolan reminding us that we, too, are vulnerable to temptation. Now I probably need to explain what I mean by that.
I’ve never seen a picture of Mrs. Nolan, but I am certain she would not look anything like John the Baptist. John was kind of a rough-hewn man living and preaching in the wilderness. He probably had an unruly beard. His clothes were nothing more than a cloak made from camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist.
And his diet—Lord, have mercy! He ate a diet of locusts and wild honey. I don’t know the nutritional value of such a diet, but I suspect he didn’t have a weight problem. He probably didn’t ask for seconds at the dinner table. Maybe, if he had a blender, he could have made some fine locust and wild honey smoothies. Maybe. Maybe not.
It would be easy for us to mark off John the Baptist as a mad eccentric on the basis of his diet and wardrobe, but we would be wrong.
John the Baptist was one of the most important men in the New Testament. Do you remember who his mother and father were? That’s right, Elizabeth and Zechariah, both of whom were members of the priestly tribe of Aaron. In other words, John was a preacher’s kid. To top it all off, his mother, Elizabeth, was a relative of Mary, the mother of Jesus. That made John a first cousin of our Lord. And remember, the scriptures tell us that John’s birth was announced by the angel Gabriel just like Jesus’ birth. Talk about good breeding! He, too, was a “miracle” baby, born to a woman who was far beyond the normal child-bearing years. John the Baptist was the perfect prophet to prepare the way for the coming of Jesus.
Most of you are aware that there is a 400-year gap between the Old and New Testaments, a time when God was silent. The final voice at the end of the Old Testament was that of the prophet Malachi. And he gave the people a promise. It was a promise of the coming Messiah. But first there would be a forerunner. “I will send the prophet Elijah to you . . .” Malachi wrote. That forerunner was John the Baptist.
John the Baptist knew the scriptures. He knew the role he was to play. Every good Jew knew that before the Messiah came, a prophet like Elijah would emerge. John was that forerunner. Guess how the prophet Elijah dressed, by the way? He wore a cloak made from camel’s hair and a leather belt around his waist. Does that sound familiar? John knew how to get the attention of the people. Dressing like Elijah was one way of doing that. People flocked out of Jerusalem and all of Judea to hear this riveting spokesman for God. Multitudes responded to his message as he proclaimed God’s word on the bank of the Jordan river.
His was the voice crying in the wilderness, calling people to repent and be baptized, and people responded. Why were they to repent and be baptized? To prepare themselves for the one who was coming after him “the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie,” he said modestly. There is much more I could say about John the Baptist. He was a remarkable man who, like his Lord, gave his life for his convictions. Jesus summed up John’s life like this: “Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist.” (5) That is pretty high praise coming from the lips of the Son of God.
But I need to focus on John’s basic message this morning—this voice crying out in the wilderness, calling people to repent and be baptized—and why I call him our Mrs. Nolan.
Why did John the Baptist tell the people to repent? And why do we need to repent as a part of our preparation for Christmas? It is because God loves people with pure hearts. “Blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.” So many people have a mistaken understanding of repentance. They think that God doesn’t want people to have any fun—and so he fills our world with luring temptations and then he waits for us to succumb to those temptations so that He can zap us. That is the furthest thing possible from the truth.
We need to understand what sin is. Sin is anything that hurts people. Sin is anything that threatens to break up families. Sin is anything that threatens people with addiction. Sin is anything that causes people years of remorse or regret. Sin is anything that causes us to feel ashamed. Sin is anything that comes between yourself and God.
There are people for whom Christmas is the loneliest time of the year, and one reason is because somebody sinned. That’s not a complicated idea, is it? And so John the Baptist, or our Mrs. Nolan, comes to us this morning asking if there is anything in our life, however small that could cause us or someone we love serious or even minor pain? If so, it’s time to make a new start during this Advent season. God wants us to have the kind of life that is filled with peace and joy and healthy relationships. Such a life is possible only for those with pure hearts.
There is an old story about two theological students who were walking along a street in the Whitechapel district of London, a section where old and used clothing is sold. “What a fitting illustration all this makes!” said one of the students as he pointed to a suit of clothes hanging on a rack by a window. A sign on the suit read: SLIGHTLY SOILED—GREATLY REDUCED IN PRICE.
There are many people who are wearing a sign like that this Christmas season: SLIGHTLY SOILED—GREATLY REDUCED IN PRICE. But it is not too late to chart a new course. Listen to the voice of John the Baptist this Advent season, or Mrs. Nolan if you will. Repent! Give your heart to Jesus and allow him to give you a heart attuned to God.
1.”Santa Claus is Coming to Town” by J. Fred Coots & Haven Gillespie.
2. Cherry Log Sermons, p. 51. Cited by John Buchanan, Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church, https://www.fourthchurch.org/sermons/2003/113003.html.
3. Chuck Queen, http://www.ibcfrankfort.com/sermons/030407.pdf.
4. Edward K. Rowell, 1001 Quotes, Illustrations, and Humorous Stories (Grand Rapids: Baker Publishing Group, 2008), pp. 162-163.
5. Matthew 11:11.