Isaiah 35:1-10 Feeble knees

James 5:7-10 Be patient

Matthew 11:2-11 The lame walk

Hail the heav’n born Prince of peace!

Hail the Sun of righteousness!

Light and life to all he brings,

Charles Wesley, the great Methodist hymn writer of the 18th century, penned these words as part of his wonderful Christmas hymn less than one year after his conversion experience. The hymn is a condensed course in biblical doctrine in ten stanzas, using a variety of terms for the newborn Christ. Charles Wesley traveled on horseback hundreds of miles, preached to crowds of thousands, often in open fields and on city streets, but his most memorable contribution to Christendom was through his hymns --- of which he is said to have written more than 6,500.

Today we remember one special phrase in this hymn many consider his finest:

What an image as we enter into the final two weeks of preparation for the celebration of Christ’s birth. "Risen with healing in his wings." In a way it is more of an Easter image than an Advent or Christmas image. We think of angels with wings ----- but what about the risen Christ?

When we think of angels we think of the shining promise Gabriel made to Mary ---- the same one we read from The Beginners Biblewith the first graders this morning. A shining promise of the messiah. This has been the focus of our Advent candle lighting:

Two weeks ago the shining promise of peace.

Last week the shining promise of harmony.

Today the shining promise of healing.

Today our lesson from Isaiah offers us a shining promise of healing. You see it depicted on this front of your bulletin:

Isaiah lived in a time of great trouble. The writer whom we call Second Isaiah was part of a group of exiles who have been taken from the defeated city of Jerusalem to the foreign capital of Babylon more than 500 years before the time of Christ. Now he anticipated return ----- with leaping, dancing, and shouting.

Then we go to Jesus’ time. John has been preaching fire and brimstone. He has offended the authorities and is in jail. He has heard about Jesus, but he has second thoughts about Jesus and wonders if he really is the Messiah.

To this Jesus answers:

The people of Isaiah’s day looked for healing. The people of Jesus’ day looked for healing. The people of our day also look for healing.

------ literally and physically

------ metaphorically and spiritually.

This morning in our prayers we will offer petitions for people who are sick, sorrowing, and in need of healing. We are concerned for our friends and relatives and, yes, for ourselves. Sometimes we speak of Christmas as a season of joy. Traditionally this Third Sunday in Advent has been designated as "Joy Sunday." But some of us don’t feel so joyful. Therapists have noted that many people get the "Christmas blues." Some churches have even held "Blue Christmas" services to minister to those feeling depressed at this time of year.

Right now we think especially of our wounded soldiers lying in hospitals without arms or legs. A recent television news broadcast featured an especially poignant interview with several of these brave young men and women who are undergoing therapy. As I watched I was simultaneously depressed and heartened at the image of these determined soldiers, now fighting to regain a useful life.

All of these people and many more ----- like the AIDS victims we encountered in Africa ----- are in need of healing. As I think about these situations while reading the Advent texts about hope and healing I come to two conclusions:

1. Healing comes in different ways.

2. Healing is not always what we expect.

1. Healing comes in different ways.

Most of the time when we think of healing we think of physical healing. We are fortunate to be living in an age and in a place where good medical care is available. I can think of one person overjoyed to be able to walk after an arthritic hip has been replaced or to see after a cataract has been removed. We can be grateful that God has given us these advances in medical knowledge.

In this day also we can be grateful that medical personnel appreciate the spiritual dimension of healing. When I go to the local hospitals I am accorded a measure of respect and made to feel part of the healing team. When the nurses at the desk in Marshfield see my badge they immediately make sure that I am given as much help as possible to make a patient feel cared for. Even though medical science has made great strides, there is a place where the doctor cannot go, and only God is present.

Of course we also do simply seek spiritual healing ---- in the sense of healing our broken, hurting, sinful spirits. This is certainly our hope in this Advent season, to welcome you into this fellowship and let you know that God loves you.

As we seek spiritual healing we also seek emotional healing. Every other month or so I lead worship services at Homme Home. My hat goes off to the dedicated personnel there who are working with the boys in that facility to bring healing and hope ----- sometimes with a stern, tough kind of love ------ but always with concern and care.

And yes, as we seek to be healed as persons we also sometimes need communal healing. I think especially of our nation after September 11, 2001. We needed one another. We cried on one another’s shoulders. We came together to support those who experienced loss in New York, Washington, or Pennsylvania. I also see this as we often gather as a family at a bedside. Sometimes there is healing here too. Even in death. As old wounds are healed and emotions are shared. As the Holy Spirit is present. And a family is healed.

2. Healing is not always what we expect.

Sometimes we want to get away from this world to be healed. We seek peace and quiet. We seek something "holy." In this time before Christmas we preachers like to decry the commercialism of the season. We complain about the stories being open all the time and the pressures to buy expensive gifts.

This is when I was surprised by an Advent Story told by the Rev. Jenee Woodard about her autistic son Phil. Phil was impervious to the season of Christmas. No reaction nothing. He was in his shell and nothing could get him out of it It’s with this kind of background that Jenee writes:

This year, right around Thanksgiving, we once more asked the kids what they wanted for Christmas. Our 14-year-old daughter sat down and made out her list. And our 10-year old son, for the first time in his life, answered the question. "PlayStation 2," he said. "I want PlayStation 2 Christmas." We just about fell over. His sister gave him a piece of paper. She wrote "Phil's Christmas List" at the top. He wrote, "PLAYSTATION TOW" under her heading. "At Sam's," he said. "Go to car."

So, we drove to Sam's. He has never looked at anything there, never seemed to notice that Sam's has anything he might want. But he led us right to the PlayStation 2 sets, picked out the bundle he wanted and put it in the cart. "Open at Christmas," he said. He watched gleefully as we wrapped the package, and then he solemnly placed it under the tree. So, a PlayStation 2 game set sits there, wrapped, with his name on it, and he waits to open it. "December 25," he says. "Open PlayStation 2 December 25."

Last night we'd returned from yet another Christmas rehearsal with our daughter, Phil found a Best Buy ad in the paper and turned immediately to the PlayStation games. He circled "Harry Potter" and "John Madden Football", handed the ad to Bob, and said, "I want Christmas." There were tears in my eyes. It's such a small thing, but such a truly amazing thing. It's one more bit of hope that he will be able to function in some semblance of society as an adult one day - that he might be able to live just a BIT more independently, and one day want the things he needs to survive enough to work for them. (Not a foregone conclusion with autistic folks, which makes them particularly unemployable, no matter their intelligence.) Consumerism might be "the enemy", but a kid who understands none of it is only a hero in a Chicken Soup For The Soul story.

This Advent season I am grateful for being able to appreciate what complexity and miracle is involved in such small "selfish" acts as wanting something for Christmas and expressing those wants to another person. I'm grateful that my son is able to enjoy all of the commercial cultural trappings of the holiday this year instead of running from them screaming. I'm grateful for the many ways Phil helps me stop and look again, even at my most "Christian" conclusions. And I'm especially grateful that my son helps me see Christ's humble birth, over and over again, even in the midst of nightmares and worries I could not have imagined 10 years ago, even in the midst of Advent.

Healing through consumerism. Well, maybe that’s a stretch. But God does work in mysterious ways. Perhaps this story is a way of telling us how God comes and works in the world, not only beyond the world. Perhaps that is part of the Christmas message. That God comes in the world in a baby, not out of the world in a great fantastic event. God’s surprises.

This in a way is what John discovered. He was preaching a tough message ---- one of a pitch fork and fire. He expected a vengeful messiah. One who would get those who needed getting. But along came Jesus with his words of forgiveness, deeds of compassion, and hands of healing. Of course Jesus also brought challenge and discomfort ---- especially to those who thought they didn’t need any healing and who considered themselves holy.

And sometimes when this Jesus brought healing, he emphasized that it was not the outward sign of healing which was important. It was the changed life and attitude which this person showed.

Sometimes that is the way we experience healing today. We don’t always get that new hip. We don’t always get better from cancer. Sometimes the healing is in God’s time, not our time. We can’t always accept this. But it’s true. God’s healing does not always happen in the way we expect or want and it does not happen when we expect or want it.

On this Third Sunday in Advent we continue our journey to the manger. We hear of the shining promise of healing. With Charles Wesley and Marty Haugen we sing of God’s healing coming on wings of hope. We confess our faith in the crucified and risen one who was born in a manger ----- even when that faith doesn’t seem to make sense to the world. Because in the end the world itself doesn’t make any sense. But Jesus does. Come Lord Jesus. Come.

Amen.