It has already caused a stir in the minds of many. Long- held doubts have surfaced. A steady skepticism seems to be reinforced. The college cynic seems to be confirmed. And the village atheist smiles in self-congratulation.

But there it was nevertheless. Time magazine's cover story asking whether the Bible really can be verified from an archeological point of view. Were the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, mere legendary characters with no real, historical existence?

Was Moses pure myth, as my former seminary classmate and now eminent archeologist, William Dever, was quoted as saying? Was the famous Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt a fabrication to undergird the later Israelites with a heroic founding legend? Did the famous King David ever actually exist or was he a fabrication of later writers, the invention of historians who needed an acceptable past for their people? There are no proofs of the existence of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, say many archeologists. Nor is there proof the Israelites were in Egypt. Nor is there proof of an Exodus across the Sinai Peninsula behind a mythological Moses, say other archeologists. And there is no evidence of the military conquest of Jericho by Joshua and Caleb, say other diggers into the remains of the past. However, the absence of archeological evidence does not mean the evidence is absent, say many. Besides, one archeological discovery, such as that of the Dead Sea Scrolls in 1947, can suddenly corroborate and verify a whole period of Biblical history.

But an even more important question has to do with past and future. Does the future of religion depend on archeological corroboration? Are our expectations for the future buried in the ruins of the past? And for answer we turn to another archeologist and paleontologist of our time, Loren Eiseley, and his book from which we get our sermon title, The Unexpected Universe.

In the book, Eiseley tells of his unexpected visit to a city garbage dump, where one of the red-eyed dump workers said, "We get it all. Just give it time to travel, we get it all," even aborted babies. Eiseley mused as to how archeologists grub around the ruins and garbage heaps of civilizations looking for confirmation of the notion that as things are they have always been. But that's not the way it works, says Eiseley. That's not how the natural world works. Nature is not an endless repetition of the past, but suddenly, unforetold and unexpected in geologic time, the world is surprised with the appearance of flowers or the emergence of the human brain -- all unpredicted by any would- be archeologists of the time looking for evidences in the past to inhibit the future.

God does not play dice with the universe, says Eiseley, agreeing with Einstein, but there are unpredictability, novelty, mutation, and radical change in the natural world. And then it happens in the human world -- in Axial Periods of human history - - periods when the Second Isaiah or Buddha or Plato or Christ appear -- periods when human thought and history are changed forever. "The words spoken by the carpenter of Nazareth are those of a world changer," says Eiseley. "They mark ... the rise of a new human image, a rejection of purely material goals, a turning toward some inner light" (The Invisible Pyramid, p. 147). Was the dump philosopher correct -- if he waits long enough, it comes to him and he will see it all? Are the archeologists correct? If they dig long enough, will they somehow see the present and future in the ruins of the past? Probably not, says Eiseley, because in the natural world we keep having emerge an unexpected universe. And in the human world too, in Axial Periods, a new and unexpected way of seeing emerges.

And so it is with our text -- John the Baptist of the old world, Jesus of Nazareth of the new; John the Baptist, prophet par excellence of the old age, Jesus the Rabbi, prophet par excellence of the age to come -- inaugurator of the unexpected universe.

I

Consider first the expected universe of John the Baptist. Had you and I been living in those days we would have shared his expectations. John was not without hope. He was not a defeatist or pessimist. No dour cynicism and comfortable skepticism were to be found in this austere, self-denying, wilderness monk.

Quite the contrary, he was full of hope. He expected something new. The Kingdom of God was coming. He wanted to speak to the masses, to warn them, to prepare them, to baptize them, to cleanse their souls for the coming kingdom. And talk to the masses he did -- this striking figure in camel's hair coat and leather belt. Ascetic, austere, lean and almost mean from the disciplines of the severe wilderness hermit life, his booming voice penetrated the most hardened of hearts and seared the most sated of consciences.

Even King Herod came. Not Herod the Great, but his son, Herod Antipas, came out in his chariot in all his royal robes to hear the rustic preacher by the Jordan River. Any nervous king would be suspicious of John, but Herod may also have had a twinge of conscience. On a recent trip to Rome he had seduced his brother Philip's wife, came back, divorced his own wife, and married his sister-in-law. Herod was publicly excoriated for his sin by courageous, fearless John.

That's why now (in our text for today), John is in the dungeon at the Machaerus Fortress near the Dead Sea -- in prison where Herod had put him, even though in his heart, Herod knew John was a prophet of God. And it is from prison John sends some of his disciples to inquire of Jesus, "Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?"

And who, we might ask, was John looking for? He tells us the one he was looking for was mightier, more powerful than he. He would baptize not so much with water, but with fire, the fire of judgment, and with the Spirit, the Spirit of God, just as King David was infused with the Spirit.

In fact, that's who he and thousands were expecting, a new King David, a new mighty man manifesting the irresistible power of one possessed of the Spirit of God. If King Saul had slain his thousands and King David his tens of thousands, then the Messiah, the Anointed One, the New King David would conquer his hundreds of thousands.

But it wasn't happening. Jesus hadn't even managed to muster enough power to get John out of prison. There was no word of Jesus' recruiting soldiers, no evidence of well-armed volunteers receiving training on weekends, no indication of developing political-military strategies. John's new Kingdom of God, his new universe, was an expected universe. It was an anticipation of a return to military might for Israel, albeit a righteous and devoted military might. It was the expected universe of the Psalms of Solomon which predicted of the coming Messiah in these words:

Behold, O Lord, and raise up for them

their King, the Son of David ... And gird him with strength to shatter

the unrighteous rulers ... And gird him with strength ... With a rod of iron to break in pieces all their resources.... (Chapter 17)

I remember some years ago seeing the dramatic movie Top Gun. Of course, some critics complained it was essentially a recruiting film for the U.S. Navy as we witnessed those "top gun" jet pilots take off from the enormous aircraft carriers, their afterburners blazing in dawn's early light, to perform unbelievable maneuvers, and then to land again with an aerial view of our massive naval power. It was very impressive. I myself was almost recruited!

But it's an old worldview. Powerful as it is, it's a vision of an expected universe of one military power supplanting another, a universe of sometimes blatant military power, a world which easily descends into might makes right; a world of revenge upon revenge upon revenge, in rituals of ethnic cleansings which vent centuries of unforgiving hatreds.

And in his own way, righteous though he was, John was looking for, hoping for, and anticipating an expected universe. So he told his disciples to ask Jesus, "Are you the one to come, or should we look for another?"

II

So now our focus turns with John and his disciples toward Jesus and the unexpected universe.

So, Jesus, are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another? Jesus quietly, and without anxiety, said to John's disciples, "Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is he who takes no offense at me" (Matthew 11: 4-6). (And yet we still take offense at him and have difficulty really believing what he said.)

These were indeed Messianic answers taken from Isaiah chapters 35 and 61. Yes, the Messianic Age was idealized as a time when all diseases would be healed. Yes, the Messianic Age would be the occasion of the poor having the good news of shared prosperity preached to them. Yes, the Messiah would inaugurate a new era of peace and prosperity, but it was to be by the strength of a military-political leader, unparalleled since King David's time.

The other day our service club went down to the local senior center to serve them lunch, which we cater in for their holiday enjoyment. We serve the lunch, sing Christmas carols, and give them gifts. In my Prayer of Invocation I asked God for peace in the Bosnian-Serbian conflict, in Northern Ireland, in the Middle East, and in our own cities and families. After the prayer there was a loud and hearty, unanimous "Amen," almost as good as the applause I sometimes get for prayers at well-champagned wedding receptions!

As I served an older man his lunch, he said, "You know, I really appreciated your prayer for peace. A lot of people don't know what war is all about. Some of these young people have romantic notions about war. But I," he continued, "I was in World War II, and I have seen enough of blood and slaughter. It's time for a new way of doing things," he said. "War is way out of date."

"You're right," I replied. Here was an elderly man, a World War II veteran, looking for the unexpected universe, looking for something really new. I was reminded of Leon Wolff's classic book, In Flanders Fields, and his gripping account of the endless misery and suffering in the muck and mire of the trenches and the mustard gas warfare of World War I. What unbelievable human sacrifices were made for a few yards of sodden real estate. Is it any wonder that World War I poet, Wilford Owen, himself a soldier on the front, wrote:

I dreamed King Jesus fouled

the big gun gears:

And caused a permanent

stoppage in all bolts;

And buckled with a smile

mausers and colts;

And rusted every bayonet

with his tears.

It was that unexpected universe which Jesus was introducing when in the Garden of Gethsemane he told Peter to put away the sword, for those who live by the sword, die by the sword. It was that unexpected universe he was introducing when he wept over the city of Jerusalem for its salvation rather than ruling over it with the sword for its exploitation.

It was that unexpected universe which he was introducing when he decided to end the expected universe of the revenge to end all revenge; the victory to end all other victories; the domination to end all other dominations; and the power to place into subservience all other powers. And he did it all in his own body, in his own person, saying, I did not come to dominate and exploit, but to serve, and to give my life as a ransom for many.

Well, you might ask, is this unexpected universe in place and actually working? Are the blind seeing, the lame walking, the deaf hearing, and the poor having good news preached to them?

Yes, because for every well-publicized, Nobel Peace Prize winning Albert Schweitzer and Mother Teresa, there are thousands upon thousands upon thousands engaged in the complex work of healing. And while the innate healing process is miracle enough, there are thousands of minds and hands and hearts at work in the health and healing professions because they, more than being committed to the profit motive, are committed to Christ's unexpected universe. So our hospitals often are named St. Luke's or St. Mary's or St. Vincent's or Methodist or Presbyterian.

Is this unexpected universe in place and working, you ask? My wife and I recently attended an All-Africa dinner in Manhattan in connection with the Fiftiethth Anniversary festivities of the United Nations. One award recipient, a woman, the Executive Director of the YWCA in Uganda, had expanded her organization from a few hundred to nearly three million women, even during the time of the hideous Idi Amin. She brought health, wholeness, liberation, education, and self-respect to thousands upon thousands of women. Why? Because she is devoted to the Christ and his unexpected universe.

Is this unexpected universe in place and working, you ask? Twice we have visited Olympia in Greece where the Olympic Games began. I love the ruins there -- the Temple of Apollo, the Temple of Hera, and, of course, the ancient stadium itself, where I ran a foot-race with my friends. But not far from the stadium are the ruins of the Rotunda, erected by Alexander the Great, in which he placed statues of his family. The statues are long gone. The majestic columns of the Rotunda lie about in pieces -- a crumbled monument of Alexander the Great, who, as legend says, wept because there were no more worlds to conquer.

But travel a little farther from Olympia to Sparta or Patras or Athens, or farther to Rome or Paris or London, or farther to New York or Chicago or San Francisco, or farther to Honolulu or Hong Kong or Beijing or Tokyo or Moscow or St. Petersburg -- travel on and you will find them, monuments not to Alexander the Great, but monuments to King Jesus, working, living monuments, beautiful monuments, full of people with hope in their eyes, with prayers and songs on their lips and love and peace in their hearts. And they are all a part of it -- the unexpected universe, the surprise of the ages, the startling awakening to a new way of life and reality, never to be found in the ruins of the past.

Jesus, "Are you the one who is to come, or should we look for another?" Oh, he is the One, and he is here with his unexpected universe.

Prayer

Almighty God, Creator of the universe and our Creator, whose nature it is always to create, and who through our telescopes grants us visions of galaxies expanding and stars being formed, and who through our microscopes takes us from infinite largeness to infinite smallness, to macrocosms and microcosms of your creative power which dazzle us with wonder and excite us with curiosity and awe, we praise you. Our finest music and noblest literature would not be adequate to praise you. And yet from these inadequate tongues and lips we utter our thanks and adoration.

As in our mind's eye and heart's imagination we present ourselves before you, we become aware of the frequent smallness of the worlds we invent for ourselves. Comfortable with familiar ideas, we never venture far from our intellectual neighborhood. Too often satisfied with the palliatives of platitudes and cliches, we avoid the unfamiliar and unknown. Fixed in the routine of set social habits and acceptable patterns of thought, we tend to conclude there is nothing new under the sun, and that as things have been, they always shall be.

O God of the universe, mind and energy of all that is and is to be, forgive us our smallness of mind and timidity of thought. Help us to remember that your thoughts are higher than our thoughts, your ways nobler than our ways, and that we should always be learning from you. Cause us to remember the pioneers in science and technology, the adventurers in the exploration of earth and space, the researchers into medicine and health, the thinkers and seers and inventors and creative people of all ages who have challenged the old, introduced the new, and have brought us into an unexpected universe.

O God, be pleased to attend us with your Spirit and grace that we might continue to develop the potential that is within us all.

And now in your fatherly tenderness, hear the requests we make for those in special need -- for the student bogged down by discouragement, worried that she will never achieve more than her parents; for the young man discouraged in his career because of reversals and misfortune; for the parents with a wayward child seemingly beyond reach; for the grandparents, lonely and not well and feeling neglected; for the spouses deadlocked in stalemate and boredom; for the churches so acculturated and tradition-bound that they offer no alternative light to the world; for politicians and diplomats who have forgotten they are to serve rather than exploit -- for these and many more, O God, we bring our earnest requests into your presence. Be pleased to hear and answer. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.