Zephaniah 3.14-20; Philippians 4.4-7; Luke 3.7-18 Those of us who were at the (Reed) service last Monday evening were reminded by the bishop that, although the Church often forgets this, Advent and Lent are to very different times. Lent is first and foremost about penitence and Advent about anticipation. 

And yet, as today’s readings show, we can’t totally remove the idea of repentance from Advent, since that was John the Baptist’s message - as we anticipate Christ’s coming, we are called to repentance.  But let’s anticipate for a moment? What will Christ’s coming bring? If we look at the reading from Zephaniah, we see that it is anticipating a time when God will bring us home.  

What, then, does that mean? We all know that a true home is a place of security, a place where we are free to be ourselves, a place of peace and joy.

 Being at home with God according to Zephaniah is about being with God. It’s a place where the lame and the outcast are welcome. That might seem not very relevant for some of us here this morning, if we’re not lame or cast out from society, but it’s about much more than that. Being lame or being outcast are two kinds of vulnerability; we are all, if we are honest, vulnerable in some way. We might not be lame or an outcast, but we will all have our own weaknesses.  

It was Jesus who said that he came not for those who are well, but for those who are sick, and one thing that the Gospel does for us is to help us recognise where we are not right, where we have weaknesses that need God’s forgiveness or infirmities that need God’s healing. That’s part of the good news, that we don’t have to be strong, powerful, rich, in full health, and so on, to be loved by God and to be received into God’s home. God’s home is for all.  

In God’s home will be gathered people from every race and language and nation, people of every shade and colour, people with physical disabilities, with mental-health and emotional problems, old and young, vulnerable and weak, mourning and in pain, and we anticipate that in God’s home all these things will be made new.  Our race and language, our colour, our vulnerabilities - none of these will make a difference because in God the whole of creation will be restored and renewed, the weak will be made strong, the sick well, the grieving will be comforted, the unloved will become lovely, the dead will live. 

And at that time God will rejoice; God will be glad and will celebrate. For God’s home is a place of joy. The concept of home is something that has been important not just for individuals but for groups of people throughout the ages. Protecting one’s homeland has been a matter of life and death for so many.
Jerusalem has become such an important place in Jewish thought, the place of home, the place where God is. 

But I think that the second part of that is far more important than the first.
Jerusalem can only truly be home when God is there. I think most Christians would agree that being at home in God’s terms is not about being in a particular place but being at home is about recognising that we are with God, being at home is being where God is. And that is not limited by time or space. Think of that great prayer of
St Augustine: “You have made us for yourself and our hearts are restless till they rest in you.” That restlessness is part of the human condition, but when we are truly at home that will disappear. 

God became home-less that we might have a home. That is part of the message of Christmas; that home is what we anticipate during Advent. Of course, we are waiting for Christmas. We are reminded too that not only are we awaiting Christmas but Christ’s coming again, and when Christ comes again, we shall find our true home. But how will we know whether we are fit for that home. What do we need to do? 

That’s the question people also had for John the Baptist. How can escape the wrath of God and find salvation?  And John’s answers differ from group to group. But underlying them - underlying the demands of generosity - give up your second coat; share your food - of honesty - don’t extort money from people, don’t cheat them - of being thankful for what you have - is a call to justice. God’s justice is not about revenge and retribution, which is sometimes what people mean when they refer to justice. God’s justice is about much more than that. It’s about treating the vulnerable with special care, it’s about honesty and fair dealings with everyone, it’s about generosity of spirit, sharing one’s good fortune, it’s about being thankful with what we have and not always grasping for more. It’s about recognising that other people are made in God’s image and in serving them we are serving God.

Does this sound a bit like something else? It sounds to me like being at home with God. John was a peculiar figure. He was the person on the cusp of the old and new covenants. He was always pointing the way not to himself but beyond to Christ.  

In some ways John the Baptist was homeless - he didn’t really belong anywhere for the sake of God. He was a person on the edge, a person whose task was to point to another. 

John the Baptist’s message was one of justice. But justice has to start with repentance. It is only through repentance that we see ourselves as we are. Repentance, of course, is not just about saying sorry. It’s about turning our backs on what is wrong and living according to the ways of God, the ways of justice and love. And, when we have repented, let us follow Paul’s advice too and rejoice. Let us rejoice in the salvation God brings. Let us rejoice as we look forward to the future that God brings, the future when we shall be truly at home with God. 

Christmas, God in Christ leaving home that we might be brought home at last. G. K. Chesterton reflected on this idea of home, and I shall end our thoughts this morning with one of his poems. 

There fared a mother driven forth
out of an inn to roam;
in the place where she was homeless
all men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
with shaking timber and shifting sand,
grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
than the square stones of
Rome.For men are homesick in their homes,
and strangers under the sun,
and they lay their heads in a foreign land
whenever the day is done.

Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
and chance and honour and high surprise,
but our homes are under miraculous skies
where the yule tale was begun.

A child in a foul stable,
where the beasts feed and foam;
only where He was homeless
are you and I at home;
we have hands that fashion and heads that know,
but our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
under the sky’s dome.

This world is wild as an old wife’s tale,
and strange the plain things are,
the earth is enough and the air is enough
for our wonder and our war;
but our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
and our peace is put in impossible things
where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
home shall all men come,
to an older place than
Eden
and a taller town than
Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
to the things that cannot be and that are,
to the place where God was homeless
and all men are at home.