Signpost People

It seems to make no difference how the conversation starts, or what the topic is, or who it is that begins it; the “neon” person has a way of turning attention to himself.

And often, what that person has to say is not important at all!

But then there is another sort of person, one who is probably not the center of every conversation at the party, who by what he or she says and does, is really pointing somewhere else,...really, to someone else.

Let's call them “signpost people.”

That is a good title for Isaiah, John the Baptizer, and also for us, when we recognize and accept our proper job.

Signs truly are important.

Some may remember the before the bridge project started when at the foot of Mulberry street there stood a sign-maze that gave directions north-east-south-and west all with either a left or right hand turn.

Imagine being a first-time traveler and being confronted with that confusing mess, and having to make an instantaneous decision which direction to go.

Often we would have a car pull slowly into the church parking lot and a driver ask for directions!

Having accurate signs and being able to heed them promptly are both important.

Signposts are also an expression of sovereignty.

We can tell when we pass from PA into Ohio; the shape of the road signs and numbering changes at the border.

The Mason/Dixon line was a row of stone markers delineating what was PA and what is Maryland.

In the ancient world, markers were regularly set up to say that the rule of a particular king extends at least this far.

It is not just things that are signs that point the way to something important; people also fulfill that function.

The call to us is to be living signposts, pointing our lives to Christ for the sake of all those who look at us.

Isaiah and John the Baptizer are two excellent examples from our lessons today.

We don't know what Isaiah looked like, his age, personality, or family.

All we have is the message that points to a faithful God who has not forgotten his people caught in despair.

And then there is John the Baptizer.

The little bit of description we have indicates an unusual person.

Just think of all of the advantage he could have taken:

--selling autographed clay tablets,

--or long-lasting beeswax candles,

--or boxes of that gourmet treat "honey-dipped locusts."

Those are things he never got around to do; he was consumed not with making himself popular or wealthy, but with pointing any who would listen to the one who was to follow—Jesus.

The results of lives like these are not easy to control or predict: God may use them in quite unexpected ways.

I'm thinking of St. Lucy, whose day of commemoration was yesterday.

She was a young woman who lived around the year 300 AD, the time of the greatest persecution under Emperor Diocletian.

For refusing to give up the faith, she was brutally killed, but not forgotten.

Her very name, which means “light”, was taken as a reminder of the nature of the Advent/Christmas season.

At this time when the days are getting shorter, or in the case of northern Scandinavia where it is dark day and night,

as well as being a time when the powers of evil and spiritual darkness seem to be winning,

there come light.

--The sun shall return.

--The bitterness of sin, anger, and all of the things which tear us apart from each other and from God will be overcome.

--The great banquet will be served.

As a sign of that hope and that future, in Nordic countries on December 13 the oldest girl in the household awakens the rest of the family in the early morning darkness while carrying candles, and brings them special buns as the food to begin the day.

Who in the 3^rd century would have thought that Lucy's life and brutal death would still be helping people1,700 years later

to point themselves to the light of Christ and receive a reminder of the great and final banquet?

I'm thinking of the girl at Columbine High School, who in the face of a gunman, confessed her faith in the Lord Jesus, even though it meant certain death.

Her story has been heard and cherished by millions in the years since that tragedy.

It is difficult to be a signpost-person.

--It cost Lucy and the girl at Columbine their lives at a young age.

--For others, the difficulties continue over a long life span.

I'm thinking of J.S. Bach, surely

one of the greatest composers in western music history.

We know that he put the Latin phrase Soli Deo gloria on each piece of music; “To God alone the glory” is his heartfelt wish.

That is a signpost-function which annoys secular musicians who

want to study Bach without reference to the Christian faith.

But there were continuing troubles. Bach spent many years in acrimonious debates with the Leipzig City Council arguing over his salary, expense, penurious budget, his number of non-musical duties, and especially, whether he had to put up with the mayor's trouble-making son in one of his choirs.

It is difficult even for exemplary people such as Bach to be good and enduring signposts.

And the difficulties continue for the rest of us as well.

Let's think about all those here who are married.

We know that our marriages are to be modeled on the relationship between Christ and the Church, and the love between spouses is to point to and give glory to God.

But how many bumps and bruises our marriages have, how many strained bonds and angry words are thrown around,

so that we sometimes have a hard time understanding how we are pointing to and reflecting God's glory.

Or, another situation:

Remember Luther's explanation of the 7^th commandment: You are to fear and love God so that you do not acquire your neighbor's property by deceitful means....

Regularly we hear things like

...the student who copies a term-paper on-line and passes it off as his own, or

...a man who sneaks away from his place of employment to go hunting for hours at a time

...a person who is repeatedly caught shoplifting.

All of these things are theft.

These persons are twisted signposts, pointing in false directions.

Each of us can look to ourselves as we begin worship each week by examining our activities to see in what directions they point.

But instead of leaving us in despair, the Holy Spirit visits each time we drag ourselves here, weary with the struggle of coping.

This Holy Spirit encourages us, renews the promise, gives us a sample of the Great Banquet, and turns us around so that we can point in the right direction again.

There is an old Jewish story told of the man who abandoned his Jewish faith, saying that the old words did not apply because

he could not see how the prophets' claim for justice and mercy was being met in the world.

It just did not seem to be happening, and he was not going to wait around any more for God.

So off he went, looking for another faith.

After years of wandering, he returned to his community and rabbi.

“Ah, have you finally seen the truth about God?” asked the rabbi.

“Not completely,” replied the man, “but I have seen the false and lying signs of a world trying to act without God.”

Life as a truly-pointing sign is at once difficult and joyous.

It is difficult because it leads to hard decisions and to death, as at Columbine and with John the Baptizer.

But it is also joyous, because it deals with true things, things that last forever.

The Lord has anointed usto bring good tidings to the afflicted, to show that his sovereignty extends this far, and beyond.

We will rejoice greatly in the Lord.

When it is time to recite the Creed, make bold to do so;

let it be both duty and delight

to be signpost people! AMEN.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.