Calvary Episcopal Church
Memphis, Tennessee
December 14, 2003
The Third Sunday of Advent

What Shall We Do?
The Rev. Canon Renée Miller

Gospel:Luke 3:7-18
(This sermon is also available in audio)

“What shall we do? What shall we do? What shall we do?”

The crowd asked, “What shall we do?" The tax collectors asked, "What shall we do?” The soldiers asked, “What shall we do?”

The question “What shall we do?” emerges in many situations in our lives. Some of them are very ordinary and some are very momentous. But the question always arises when there is a lack of clarity about the way forward. When there is new information that has been received but has not yet been processed. When we don’t want to do the wrong thing, or the mistaken thing, or the unthinkable thing. When we know that we are being called to live differently, but are not sure how. Then we ask, ‘What shall we do?” And we look for an answer to come from outside ourselves--an answer that will finally give us what we are looking for.

John the Baptist obviously had not taken Dale Carnegie’s course on "How to Win Friends and Influence People." In his rather direct manner his words would have put the people on edge.

You brood of vipers. Who told you to flee from the wrath that is coming? Show that you are really repentant. And don’t say to yourself, “Oh, I’m a chosen one of God.” For I tell you that God can raise up people for himself from the stones around your feet. Even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees, and those that do not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.

Not exactly a compassionate, pastoral, loving sermon. If John the Baptist were preaching in the year 2003, we would probably not be greeting him at the door following church saying, “Father John, I really enjoyed your sermon this morning.”

Actually, the people who heard John’s sermon those many years ago didn’t say that either. They said something much more important, “What shall we do? “What shall we do?” The people who heard John’s fiery words had a lack of clarity about the way forward. They had received new information but had not yet processed it. They didn’t want to do the wrong thing, or the mistaken thing, or the unthinkable thing. They knew they were being called to live differently, but they weren’t sure how. They heard God’s spirit speaking in their spirit and they asked, “What shall we do?”

There’s no better response to a sermon than “What shall we do?” And yet, it’s one of the hardest responses to make, because in that simple phrase, we are saying that we are willing to allow our lives to be changed-–from the inside out. The question, “What shall we do?” begins inside-–in the silence of one’s being, where the voice of God can speak freely and where we can hear freely. It begins as a tiny spark and by the breath of the spirit, it is fanned into full flame. We courageously blurt out, “What shall we do?” with an urgency and immediacy that may surprise even ourselves. Scripture is filled with examples of people asking, “What shall we do?”

For the crowd and the tax collectors and the soldiers who had come to hear John, that little spark was alive in their hearts. As harsh and unrelenting as John’s presence and words were, those words penetrated their hearts with the truth about themselves. And in that revelation of truth, the tiny spark was fanned until it burst into full flame. But, fanning that spark into full flame so that we know what it is we should do is not always done through the words of a fierce and passionate preacher.

Sometimes it’s in the terror of our own little life, that we can finally hear the whisper of God wooing our soul. Think of the prophet Elijah. It seemed everyone was out to get him-–he was fleeing for his very life. He was cold, he had gone without food for days and days, his energy was low, despair filled his heart and he ran and hid inside a cave. In that cave, he made his lament to God. The tiny spark was alive in his heart and when God told him to come out of the cave he did, and he listened for God’s voice in the wind and then in the earthquake and then in the fire. But God’s words were not heard in any of those dramatic events. Rather, God fanned the spark in Elijah’s heart through a still small voice. And in the still small voice, Elijah learned what it was that he should do.

Sometimes the words of God that fan the small spark inside comes from an unspoken, unacknowledged desire--a desire that rises silently and stealthily inside one’s heart. Think of Zaccheus, a tax collector--like those who came to hear John the Baptist. A desire rose in Zaccheus, silently and stealthily. He wanted to see Jesus. He thought about how to see Jesus. He wondered what it would be like to see Jesus. He planned how he was going to see Jesus. When he heard Jesus was coming to town, he ran to town to see him, but because he was short, he couldn’t see. His desire was so strong that he decided not to be deterred by his physical limitations. He climbed a tree so he could see what he had come to see-–Jesus.

Jesus stopped, looked up and said to Zaccheus, “Zaccheus, come down out of that tree, because tonight I’m going to have dinner at your house.” Those were the words that fanned the spark that had begun as desire in Zaccheus’ heart. At dinner that night, Jesus’ words led Zaccheus to know what he should do. He stood in front of Jesus and said, “Lord, I will give half of what I have to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will restore it four times as much.”

So why are we not always asking the question of God, “What shall we do?” Rabindranath Tagore, the great Indian poet gives us some clues. He writes,

Obstinate are the shackles, and my heart aches when I try to break them. I am certain that priceless wealth is in You and that You are my best friend, but I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room. The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love. My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted.

Inward change never comes easily, and we are often very attached to the way things are at present. We are unwilling to let go of what is familiar even when we know that allowing God to change our lives means that we will be freed of the very shackles that bind our soul in dust and death. And so, we come to hear the words of Scripture from week to week, we receive Holy Communion, we sing songs and pray prayers and hope that by some process of osmosis our shackles will be broken. But what we, frightened birds that we are, really need to do is ask the question that can release us from the frozenness of our own souls. “What shall we do?” “What shall we do?” “What shall we do?”

What I want to tell you is this: that question is in your soul--it is there now--today. You come week by week to hear scripture, to receive Holy Communion, to sing songs and pray prayers because there is a spark inside waiting to be fanned into full flame. If you are not asking the question consciously, it is not because you are afraid of the question. It is because you are afraid that God will answer the question. And if God answers the question, you will need to change. But the question is there. The question is there because God’s Spirit has placed it there. And when the question is given voice, it is your invitation to God to fashion you into the holy person you have been created to be.

There’s a spark within your heart
One that waits for Holy breath.
When you ask, “What shall I do?”
Christ will surely speak to you.
(Sung To Hymn 66, "Come thou Long Expected Jesus," Hymnal 1982, words by Renée Miller)

“What shall we do?” the crowds asked. Jesus answered, “If you have two coats, give one away, and do the same with your food.”

“What shall we do?” the tax collectors asked. Jesus answered, “Collect only what is required.”

“What shall we do?” the soldiers asked. Jesus answered, “Don’t extort money from anyone by threats or false accusations and don’t be greedy. Be happy with your wages.”

It takes only four small words to change your life. “What shall I do?” Be courageous enough to ask, and still enough to hear the answer.

The question posed, “What shall I do?”
The ready ear awaits your word
Speak Lord, and fan the flame within
And give me grace to follow you.
(Sung to "Hymn 18," Hymnal 1982, words by Renée Miller)

Copyright 2003 Calvary Episcopal Church

Gospel: Luke 3:7-18
7 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire." 10 And the crowds asked him, "What then should we do?" 11 In reply he said to them, "Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise." 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, "Teacher, what should we do?" 13 He said to them, "Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you." 14 Soldiers also asked him, "And we, what should we do?" He said to them, "Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages." 15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, "I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire." 18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people. NRSV

(Return to Top)