December 7 Advent 2 Sunday Sermon Manuscript
- Bkumc 열린교회
- 2025년 12월 5일
- 7분 분량

“Waiting and Expecting”
Matthew 3:1–12
A Strange Voice in the Season of Advent
Beloved, as we gather on this Second Sunday of Advent, I pray that the grace and peace of our Lord will fill your hearts deeply. This season of December is, as always, beautiful. Sparkling lights, the scent of pine trees, Christmas cookies, and carols stir our hearts with warmth and anticipation.
And yet, in this very season—when our hearts grow warmer and our affections deepen—the Gospel confronts us with a voice that brings us to a halt.
A man dressed in strange clothing appears in the wilderness and cries out, “You brood of vipers!” John’s harsh cry cuts through the stillness and expectation of Advent like a cold and biting wind.
Why does Scripture give us such sharp words during this season? Because the Second Sunday of Advent is not only a time of joyful waiting, but a time of repentance—the time that makes true waiting possible, a time to realign the direction of our hearts.
John’s cry is harsh not merely because of his words but because his entire appearance speaks a message.
He wears camel’s hair (τρίχας καμήλου, trichas kamēlou), a leather belt (ζώνην δερματίνην, zōnēn dermatīnēn) around his waist, and he eats locusts and wild honey.
This is not simply unusual clothing. It is an intentional portrayal—an echo of the prophet Elijah. From the very beginning, Matthew casts John in the shadow of Elijah.
Elijah and Ahaziah—A Warning From God
In 2 Kings 1, we find that Ahaziah, king of the northern kingdom of Israel, had turned away from God and was deeply immersed in Baal worship. One day, Ahaziah fell through the lattice of his upper room and was seriously injured. In desperation, he summoned messengers and commanded them,
“Go and inquire of Baal-Zebub, the god of Ekron, whether I will recover from this injury.” This command itself was proof that the king had abandoned God. An Israelite king turning to a foreign god for matters of life and death symbolized a kingdom that had wholly rejected the God of Israel.
At that very moment, an angel of the Lord appeared to Elijah and said, “Go, intercept the messengers of the king.” Elijah immediately set out into the wilderness road, stopped the messengers, and proclaimed God’s word.
In verses 3–4, Elijah says, “Is it because there is no God in Israel that you are going to inquire of Baal-Zebub, the god of Ekron? Therefore this is what the Lord says: You will not leave the bed you are lying on. You will certainly die.” When the messengers returned and described the man—hairy, with a leather belt around his waist—the king immediately said, “It is surely Elijah the Tishbite.”
Ahaziah’s encounter with Elijah was not a random meeting. It was God’s final warning to a king who had abandoned Him and placed his trust in another god.
In every generation in which God’s people forget Him, God sends someone like Elijah to reopen the way of the Lord.
Thus, when the image of Elijah appears again in John the Baptist, it is a sign that God’s decisive work is beginning once more.
“In Those Days”—God Opens History Again
Matthew begins the passage with the words, “In those days” (ἐν ταῖς ἡμέραις ἐκείναις, en tais hēmerais ekeinais). This is not a simple time marker. It is a prophetic expression used by Jeremiah and Joel whenever they speak of “the Day of the Lord.” Jeremiah says in 31:31,
“The days are coming when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and with the people of Judah.” And Joel declares in 2:29, “Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out my Spirit in those days.”
So when Matthew uses this expression, he is telling us that the scene before us is not ordinary time. It is the moment when God returns to fulfill His promises—when prophecy becomes reality.
The Essence of Repentance—The Turning of Metanoia
This is why John cries out in the wilderness, as verse 2 says: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” The word “repent” here is the Greek μετανοεῖτε (metanoeite). While the basic meaning is “to change one’s mind,” the New Testament uses it in a far deeper sense—
It means to turn the entire direction of one’s life, to shift one’s values and center toward God. Because the verb appears in the present imperative, it does not mean “repent once” but “continually realign your life toward God.”
The phrase “the kingdom of heaven has come near” is ἤγγικεν ἡ βασιλεία τῶν οὐρανῶν (ēngiken hē basileia tōn ouranōn). The verb ἤγγικεν (ēngiken) is perfect tense—meaning “it has arrived and is already exerting its influence.” It is not simply “nearby”; it is standing at the doorway, knocking.
John is not announcing a future event only. He is declaring that God’s reign is already breaking into our present lives. Repentance, therefore, is not preparation for a distant future—it is action that transforms the present.
The Meaning of “Fruit”—The Visible Result of Genuine Faith
In verse 8, John insists that repentance must bear visible results: “Produce fruit in keeping with repentance.” The word for “fruit” is καρπός (karpos). While it literally means fruit, Scripture uses it to describe a person’s conduct, character, and the visible outcome of one’s faith. Paul uses the same word for “the fruit of the Spirit.”
In this passage, “fruit” becomes the sole criterion for discerning the authenticity of faith. John is not saying, “Earn salvation through your works.” Rather, he is saying that true repentance inevitably produces a transformed life.
“The Axe Is Laid at the Root”—A Time When God’s Standard Is Set
In verse 10, John emphasizes the urgency of God’s timing and His unwavering commitment to establishing His kingdom.
“The axe is already laid at the root of the trees.” The word “laid” is κεῖται (keitai), which literally means “is placed,” “is set,” or “is established.”
In this context, it does not simply mean that an axe is lying on the ground. It signifies that God’s standard of judgment has already been set.
The axe has not yet swung, but the criteria are clear. The standard is not ancestry, not religious habit, not tradition. It is fruit—a life visibly transformed by God.
Our Church’s Place—A Question of Maturity at Forty Years
This past week, I worked on our ministry plan for 2026. As always, I organized worship servants, Scripture readers, prayer leaders, and small-group structures. But this year, my heart kept drifting elsewhere: “Where does our church stand right now?” “What fruit must a church bear as it approaches its 40th year?”
Forty years is midlife in church terms. Passion alone is not enough. We need depth, spirituality, and a mature communal identity.
That is why next year I hope to introduce the practice of spiritual journaling—writing before God as a discipline of reflection and faithfulness. Journaling becomes a mirror for the heart, a tool for surrender and restoration, a way to realign our lives with God. Metanoia—turning—can begin with writing.
This is not about following a trend. In a changing world, the practice of walking deeply with God remains the essential work of those who follow Christ.
A Church That Becomes Someone’s Place of Waiting
Last week, little Yejun’s surgery went well, and for that we are grateful. Yet I can only imagine how anxious his parents were. Years ago, my own son severely injured his finger and required emergency surgery.
Time froze. My heart raced. All I could pray was, “Lord, please…” Remembering that moment helps me understand the long and painful week that Hyerim and Hwibin must have endured.
This week, Deacon Anna had to fly to Korea suddenly because her father’s condition worsened. She is now keeping vigil by his bedside.
She messaged me saying that her father still seemed conscious, and she wanted to read Scripture to him, so I sent her several passages to share.
Why do we share these stories and bring our hearts together? Because when we pray and support one another, even a little strength returns, and the burden becomes more bearable.
When you are hurting, the church is here for you. And when I am hurting—who is there for me? You are. This is the beauty of the church community we long for.
A few days ago, someone visited the church asking if anyone could spend two hours a day with his 85-year-old mother, simply to talk with her. Though he asked quietly, his heart carried a clear hope: “Surely the Korean church… someone there might help.”
At times people contact us asking if we have Korean language programs for children—to help them hold on to their identity.
Through these encounters, I realized something: while we as a church wait for Jesus in the Advent tradition, there are people waiting for our church—waiting for a community like this one.
The Advent candle shines because we await Christ, but it also shines as a light of hope for those waiting for us.
These moments show us what kind of church we are called to be—a community that becomes someone’s place of waiting, someone’s expectation, bearing fruit through love, presence, and service.
Preparing the Way of the Lord
Dear friends, “in those days”—God’s days—Scripture confronts us with two questions: “What are we waiting for?” and “Who is waiting for us?” And today God asks, “What fruit do you bear?”
Waiting for Christ—we know how to do that. But recognizing who is waiting for us—this invites us to bear the fruit God desires.
As each of us finishes this year, we may be setting new resolutions. I do it every year. I set exercise goals, fail to keep them, scold myself, and then set new ones. I am, admittedly, very gracious with myself.
But such resolutions, without fruit, mean little. Instead, let us take seriously the image of the axe laid at the root. Let us ask: What fruit must I bear? What fruit must we bear as a church?
May our church be a community that becomes a source of comfort, expectation, and a pathway into God’s kingdom for those who wait for us. May the light of Advent shine brightly within us—and also in the lives of those who wait for hope. May we become an Elijah-like community that prepares the way of the Lord. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
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