He said therefore 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? Bear fruits in keeping with repentance… And the crowds asked him, “What then shall we do?” (Luke 3:7–10)
You are warmly welcome! As the leadership of the Chapel, we appreciate all of you for warmly receiving the Archbishop last Sunday. I congratulate the students who are finishing exams, and pray for a fruitful holiday season.
Advent dawns like a watchman’s trumpet—clear, ancient, and unembarrassed. It calls us not merely to decorate the season but to discern the hour. And in the wilderness of Scripture, a lone, rugged preacher still stands: John the Baptist, crying out to a people who believed themselves safe, yet were drifting quietly and comfortably toward judgment! Luke tells us that multitudes came to John: citizens and soldiers, tax collectors and craftsmen, all with different trades and titles, yet sharing one burning question of the soul: “What then shall we do?” What must we do to escape the wrath of the God who is good—so good that He will not overlook evil, nor permit indifference to harden into death?
John’s message rings clean across the centuries: “The axe is already laid at the root. Every tree that bears no fruit will be cut down.” Our professions have evolved, but our hearts have not. John preached to farmers and soldiers; today he would preach to engineers, accountants, students, influencers, CEOs, Uber drivers, lecturers, entertainers, pastors - even parents hurrying between work and home. And we too cry, though often silently “What then shall we do?” But here lies our peril: The noise of our age is deafening. Work taps us on the shoulder long after evening has fallen. Social entertainment glitters like a thousand candles drawing moths. Technology grows faster than wisdom can keep pace, seducing us with a constant stream of novelty. Quiet, that ancient friend of the soul, becomes rare. Reflection, that trusted midwife of repentance, becomes sidelined.
And one trembles to ask: Can a generation so distracted hear a wilderness prophet? Or will the axe fall not in anger, but in sorrow—upon a people too busy to notice? John did not speak in riddles. His counsel was practical, earthy, almost startling in its simplicity: Share what you have—clothes, food, time, kindness; your compassion work is appreciated. Do your work honestly—no cheating, no hidden greed. Exercise power humbly—no extortion, no intimidation. Live as if God sees - because He does. There was no mystical ritual, no elite secret, no complicated formula. Just fruit - the visible evidence of a changed heart.May this Advent find us awake, not distracted; repentant, not resistant; fruitful, not barren. For the One whose birth we await is also the Judge whose footsteps stir the leaves. And blessed is the person who hears the wilderness call, prepares their heart, and walks into the light of His coming with joy, not fear. “What then shall we do?” Let our lives answer before our lips do.