In the first reading I used this afternoon, the prophet Malachi presented us with two great images - refiner’s fire, and fuller’s soap. Malachi was prophesying at a time when the worship offered in the temple had become lacklustre - a duty that had to be performed, rather than heartfelt praise offered by the people to their saviour god. God is going to change this, he told them; he is going to clean things up, make the temple pure again, begin a new age.
And it’s an important message to hear in Advent. It’s a busy time. The daylight hours shorten down to the winter solstice, and the fact that there’s so little daylight only serves to accentuate the sense we have of there being so much to do, getting ready for Christmas. But the getting ready of Advent isn’t just to do with buying turkeys and making mince pies and writing lists of presents and sending out cards. Not for Christians, anyway. We enter Advent not looking back but looking forward, to what God will do next, and to where God is leading us now.
Malachi speaks about something that will come suddenly, and will catch the unwary by surprise; that will be terrifying (“Who can endure it?” he asks), but will also be transformative - a new age is being brought in. As Christians we are living between the making of that new age on the cross and at the empty tomb, and its final fulfilment. As a response in the Anglican communion prayer puts it: “Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again.”
So Malachi gives us these two great images of refiner’s fire and fuller’s soap. He uses them to describe how God’s faithful servant will purify and renew the worship of the temple. But the images he gives us can also be related to the challenge we have of living faithfully in the light of judgement. Think of the smith beating metal and thrusting it into the fire till it's white hot, then beating it again and thrusting it back into the fire - a repeated process of making the metal clean and pure.
I can certainly relate that to the practical business of living well in the world. And I can see how, just as I need to work hard to keep my body in good order, and to look after my physical self, so I also need to work just as hard at purifying my inward self, and making sure that in how I think, how I react, how I treat others, what I say, I am being the best version of myself I can be. Like the way a smith has to repeat the process of heat and hammer as he refines the metal, to refine myself is not a single task, it’s something I have to keep on working at. It’s easy to give up at the first hurdle; but perseverance is also a gift of the Spirit, and without perseverance we’ll only ever be half of what we could and should be. I should probably have over my desk a big sign just saying, “Don’t give up”. Not least because Advent is a time to remember how God never gives up on us.
So I can use this time to work at the things in my life that need purifying, need sorting through, need setting right. The Christian word for this is repentance; but repentance isn’t just to do with niceties of religion; it’s a hugely practical thing - it’s the practical process of working at being myself part of the positive change that can make the world around me a better place. Like the simple but profound prayer that goes, “Lord, let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.” I shouldn’t wish for, or pray for, anything I’m not also prepared to work for.
And that leads me to reflect on the other image Malachi gives us here, to do with soap. Fuller’s soap. What exactly is fuller’s soap, I wondered. What does a fuller do? Now I do remember as a child my Granny saying to me: “You’d better wash your mouth out with soap and water.” I wonder what it was I’d said? I don’t think I would have said a rude word, because I don’t think I learned any swear words till I got to grammar school. But obviously it must have been something unkind, unfair and too quickly said. I don’t remember whether I actually did wash my mouth out with soap and water, either!
What does a fuller do? I looked that up, and I found that the job of the fuller was to take the raw, filthy wool sheared from the sheep, and to purify it using various techniques and materials, including a specially harsh and abrasive soap. They needed to do this so that the wool would be white and clean and ready for spinning. But it wasn’t a nice job; it was dirty and smelly work, and it had to be done away from other people - so outside the town walls, in a “fullers’ field” set aside for the purpose, with plenty of running water to hand. And like the refiner of metals, the fuller had to keep repeating the process. His job wasn’t finished until the wool had been made completely clean.
And the fuller’s soap he used was an alkaline substance made from the ashes of certain plants, mixed with salts and oils. I’m pretty sure I would not want to wash my mouth out with this stuff; in fact if anyone did swallow fuller’s soap they would be quite badly hurt by it, it might even prove fatal; this was pretty serious stuff, and it needed to be - but, worked with and repeated, it did the job that needed to be done; it purified the wool.
I’m reminded by that, that to purify myself can also be a difficult and demanding and often unpleasant task. It’s likely to mean I have to do things I’m going to find uncomfortable at the very least. It may mean I have to admit to stuff I’d much rather stayed hidden. And it surely will mean cleaning up what I’ve made dirty, and repairing the things my words or deeds or neglect have damaged. Repentance isn’t just saying I’m sorry, it requires me to act as though I mean it. And that’s going to have to include working to make sure I no longer do whatever it was I was doing wrong before, so that I don’t cause the same hurt again.
So I can see how in the trials of our lives and the mistakes of our lives, and the greedy and thoughtless episodes of our lives - that’s when we need to use fuller's soap on ourselves. So what might that fuller's soap consist of in my life?
It might be that apology I need to make; it might be that broken relationship or friendship I need to help rekindle; it might be the price I need to pay, the work I need to do, the time I need to give, to help put right what is not right, because of something I’ve done, or because of my neglect or thoughtlessness. These are probably things I’ll not enjoy having to do; I may find that my fuller’s soap is just as tough, abrasive and painful as the stuff they used in those fields outside the town walls. But I know it’s also going to be necessary, and that I mustn’t be afraid to use it, and to persevere, if I’m going to serious about living with others in mind, and with God in mind; if I’m going to live as a disciple. And that my own healing and cleansing and empowering will depend on it too.
And so in Advent we hear the story of John the Baptist, who not only told the people in very practical terms just what they needed to put right in their lives, but also offered them the sign of water, baptism, to wash away what was wrong, and to mark a new beginning, a new offering of themselves to God. Like Malachi he was saying, “Get ready. God is about to do something new; and if you’re not ready, you’ll be caught out.” A highway in the desert was being prepared, for God’s chosen one to travel. In just a few weeks’ time we shall hail the birth of a baby in Bethlehem. The child who will return, as Lord and King and Judge. Will we be ready, will we be clean and pure, for that coming Day of the Lord? That is the Advent question.
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