Today is Gaudete Sunday. Kind of snuck up on us. Gaudete means rejoice. Not in a quiet sort of a way. More like the old camp song, "If you're happy and your know it clap your hands." That sort of thing. Gaudete has the sense of pulling out all the stops, and really letting loose with joy. Of course, as Lutherans we don't go overboard ... but that's the meaning of Gaudete. "Loud," the word means. Boisterous. Colorful. After a couple weeks of a rather subdued Advent, Gaudete Sunday is a day to let out all the stops. Or at least some of them. It is, after all still Advent. And we are, after all, still Lutheran.

In some churches, Gaudete is referred to as "pink candle" Sunday. The reason being, the color of the third candle on the Advent wreath is (and I'll bet you're a step ahead of me) ... pink! Perhpas that is a part of your liturgical tradition. In some churches the pastor or priest wears a pink stole. Now that's Gaudete gaudy! Why don't we have a pink candle? Three reasons. First, we got a quantity discount for purchasing four purple candles. Second, it's less confusing for the acolytes. The third reason is I'm just teasing; I can't remember why we didn't buy a pink candle for the Advent wreath.

A pink candle sure would have been extra perfect at our first worship service in our sanctuary, six years ago today! Now, six years ago today was a Saturday, and our first liturgy was a wedding. Months earlier I had promised the bride and groom the sanctuary would be ready, and the contractor promised me the sanctuary would be ready. On Monday of the wedding week, the sanctuary was half painted, there was no pulpit, font or altar. No pews. The large expanse of concrete floor, looked more like an airplane hanger than a sanctuary, and I was thinking of calling my travel agent, because if the sanctuary were not all dressed up for a wedding by Saturday - the bride and groom would have been very upset - the groom's mother especially. I should know. I'm married to the groom's mother. The fact that I'm here to talk about it means that everything was complete by rehearsal time on Friday evening.

Now this story has a point - six years ago today was the first time to test my theory. I encouraged the building committee to have the Baptismal font, our own little replica of the River Jordan, placed in the middle of the center aisle. Someone said, "people would almost have to trip over it to get to the altar." Exactly. To get to Communion, you had to pass by the Jordan, the place of Baptism. And my theory was this: even though it's in the middle of the main highway to the altar rail, no one will trip over the font. At the rehearsal, the bride, my daughter-in-law Joan, was escorted down the aisle by a beloved uncle and aunt. My theory proved correct. The three maneuvered themselves smoothly around the font. Nobody tripped over the font. At the wedding - I'm guessing it must have been the high heels Aunt Kay was wearing. Oh well. It was just a theory.

"Rejoice and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem! The Lord has taken away the judgments against you." So writes the prophet Zephaniah, as he continues, "The king of Israel, the Lord is in your midst." Gaudete. Rejoice. And from the pen of St. Paul: "Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I say rejoice ... the Lord is near." And then these more somber words from our Gospel text, a text which is gaudy with promise: "I baptize you with water ... but one who is more powerful than I is coming." That's the good news from John - he points to "one more powerful than I." That One, of course, is Jesus.

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John all begin their stories of the ministry of Jesus with John. If you were to ask just about any New Testament character, "Excuse me. Can you tell me how to get to Bethlehem?" The answer would almost certainly be, "Well you go out into the desert and keep going until you reach John at the River Jordan. You can't miss it. There is no other way to get there. "To get to Jesus you have to get through John. You almost have to trip over John to get to Jesus.

The sermons of John do not sound like good news - not from the start. Nothing to rejoice about - at the beginning of his sermons. He called the people chaff, grain leftovers, only good for the fire. Plato said that when you begin a speech you ought to flatter the audience ... that gets them on your side. John the Baptist cordially greets his congregation, "You brood of vipers...!" John did not care to win friends - he only wanted to influence people. He did not care if the people were on his side. He wanted them to be on the side of God. The way to Jesus is to trip over John at the Jordan River font.

The preaching of John IS Good News - because of his acknowledgment of One greater than he. On our own, we can never get real close to God. Through Jesus, our God has gotten real close to us. Baptism close. Bethlehem close. God took a step down from heaven, to be born among us. How good is that? Gaudete good! The Lord is near. The good news then is this: in spite of our burdens, in spite of our sin, through Jesus the Savior, you and I are in the pink!