(this was only preached only in the evening, so there is no recording.)

As a suburbanite, a lot of the farming references made in the Bible don’t carry the weight that the authors intended.  I am often left googling what exactly is a winnowing fork besides a tool that separates things.    For those like me who didn’t know, a winnowing fork is used to throw grain in the air, allowing the wind to separate the chaff and the wheat grain.  And that’s when I realized I did have a better understanding of this as a novice coffee roaster.  When you roast coffee beans, you also get a chaff.  Its like a little coat on the outside of the bean.  After roasting the beans you then separate the chaff and bean, usually using a hand fan to blow away all the chaff.  If you leave the chaff in, not only does it make a mess, it adds an unpleasant taste to your coffee.

Which then leads us to wonder, what is the chaff in the Gospel this week.  Too often this passage has been used to strike fear into our hearts, that God will come separate us into the good and bad.  The good will be with God, and bad will damned to an eternal fire.  Yet, my experience with chaff, leads me to believe that John the Baptist is actually telling us something else.  One of things I have noticed as I roast coffee, that often with a darker roast there is less chaff than with a light roast.  That the heat breaks down the chaff, and the longer the roast, the less there chaff there is to separate.  In verse 17, John proclaims “but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” What if John’s reference isn’t about destroying an entire person, but a fire that destroys the things that are unpleasant?  And how do we let this happen?

And we can take what John says, like sharing your extra clothing and food, not exhorting people, and finding contentment as a checklist of how to make it happen, but that would imply we are all the same, and that our attachment to our chaff is all the same.  In my experience, that doesn’t ring true.  Our captivity to sin is more nuanced; our self control is inconsistent, we can reason any action, and and our physical bodies crave different things.  To create a single checklist would set us up for failure.  

What if rather than living in fear of hell, we understood that its not about what we do, but rather embracing the fire of the Holy Spirit that strips away the unpleasantness within us?  Could we welcome a fire that breaks apart our sadness, anger, jealously, pride, lust, gluttoney, and fear?  And how?  What chaff do we need to be separated from?

John guides us towards two things; baptism and repentance.  

According to Luther, “baptism signifies that the old person is us with all sins and evil desires is to be drowned and die through daily sorrow for sin and through repentance, and on the otherhand that daily a new person is to come forth and rise up to live before God in righteousness and purity.”  Or more simply, its a reminder that God is always working in and around us, to free us from our sin.  Baptism is often where God starts with us.

Now repentance, we tend to get mixed up. Society often mixes it with something like reparations.  That we need to do work to make up for what we did that we did wrong.  Repentance, instead is an awareness of where we have gotten lost, and need to turn back to God.  How can we do this?

To answer this, we need to be aware of something – we are not reminded in this week’s lectionary where John the Baptist is as he preaches.  John isn’t in a temple or town square.  John is in the wilderness.  In the bible, the wilderness is where people go to learn.  In Exodus, they wander in the wilderness for 40 years to learn how to be the people of God.  Elijah and Joseph both go to the wilderness to learn and be with God.  And even Jesus spends time in the wilderness, where he battles temptation. The wilderness is where we learn, form, bond with God. 

What if instead of punishment and repair, repentance is actually about learning how to be in relationship with God?

Now most of us cannot just venture out into the actual wilderness for forty days to learn, but we all can acknowledge there are spaces that could be defined as wildness in our own lives.  Our difficult relationships, health concerns, financial struggles, addiction, and more, are all wildernesses.  Now God does not create these spaces to test us in our learning, rather these spaces often allow us to see how God is carrying us through.  We learn that we can trust God, that in those spaces where we have no control, that feel dark and lonely, that we are not alone and that we  are loved.  Our wilderness teaches us how we are cared for by God, where God has called us to show love, and that there is actually hope in the resurrection.  The wilderness is a space where learn that faith isn’t complacent, but active and changing, and an adventure in its own sense. While God is always guiding and teaching us, the wilderness is where it becomes clear, where we can understand why we need to be in relationship with God.

As we learn and grow towards God, we will find that God does not toss us up in the air like wheat or coffee beans to see which of us will fall to ground and which of us are chaff that will be blown or burned away.  Instead, God teaches us how to be with God, blowing and burning away the things that have no real substance, the things that distract us from who we are called to be, and the things that makes us unpleasant.  We have a God who desires to be with us, and teaches us how to move towards the Kingdom.  A God who doesn’t condemn or divide God’s people, but frees us from division, harm, and more.  And a God that loves us, and brings out the best in us.  

(due to techinical issues, there is no recording of this one.) 

One of things we never have to see anymore is the dark.  A few years ago, I was able to do a night hike at Raccoon Creek State Park, we learned to walk toe to heel to navigate roots, rocks, and more without a flashlight in sight.  Without the hindrance of artificial lighting, our senses heightened - the world felt more alive - we could hear new natural sounds that we hadn’t noticed before, and in just 15 minutes our eyes adjusted to the dark, where we suddenly could see an actual sky full of stars.  It was a surreal moment to appreciate creation and the beauty woven throughout it.

Since then, I have become increasingly aware of how light can interrupt the darkness.  Streetlights on every corner of our neighborhood, phones in our hands, and the glow in the sky from local commercial and industrial facilities. We never have to fear being in the dark. 

We are also never “in the dark” when it comes to information.  We have news, research, and every kind of media available at our fingertips.  It almost feels as if it is possible to know more than everything.  Notifications make sure we always know what is going on anywhere in the world at anytime of the day.  Once again, we never have to fear being in the dark. 

We have this innate fear of darkness, and use it to symbolize what is unknown or dangerous.  Our fear has allowed the modern world to do everything it can to eliminate darkness.  

Yet are we missing something by never experiencing darkness?  Could there actually be some good in the darkness?  Where can we see God working in the darkness?

In this week’s Gospel reading, we hear about what  the disciples have been talking about, 

“Then they came to Capernaum; and when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest.”

The disciples do a very human thing, they try to figure out who is the best, the most successful, the person who should have the spotlight shined on them.  Often, we all find ourselves in this place -like the person who wins the race, the best artist, the person with the winning cookie recipe, the top salesperson, the honor roll student.  We all have a desire to be great.

But Jesus doesn’t affirm their desire to be the greatest.  In fact, he’s pointed out what they’ve missed, what they didn’t see.  How they are actually in the dark. 

And how does Jesus do this?  He picks up a child from the edge of the room and centers them.  We often think of kids as the center of our churches, community, and families, but when it comes to power, we rarely center them.  Even today, we don’t often take a child’s input on how to do things, for instance, children don’t get appointed to our church council or elected into public office, yet are impacted by the decisions made.  They don’t get a voice or vote, they are left in the dark.  So Jesus’ action here is not only remarkable two thousand years ago but for today as well.  

Jesus is reminding us in this passage, while the world pushes us to be in the spotlight, our call is actually to welcome those in the shadows, but just how do we do that?

Jesus instructs the disciples with “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

So we welcome people, but what does that mean?

In the original Greek, dechomai is used, and while welcome is a good translation, it also can be seen to mean graciously receive.  We are to take in people, embrace them into our community, it's more than just smiling and saying hi, Jesus is calling us to be fully inclusive.

And this can be a challenge.  We have different needs when it comes to being included, it means accepting cultures, bodies, brains, and backgrounds that are different than our own.  It may sometimes mean being inconvenienced, like serving new foods or changing spaces to accommodate. Yet, when we see those who have been left in the dark, we can see the full body of Christ grow.  We can value the gifts and experiences people bring to our lives.  When we let people in and love them from the darkness, we get to see the true beauty of God’s kingdom like a sky full of stars.  

And for those of us who have experienced or are currently experiencing life in the darkness, remember: God loves you, God has you, and you are always included.  Even when humanity fails to see you, God hasn’t.  God doesn’t need a flashlight or the internet to find you and embrace you, God knows exactly where you are.

Amen.