A Voice in the Wilderness

Luke 3: 1 – 11

 

This is a busy time of year, full of preparations for Christmas and the festive yuletide season.  Of course there are many ways to get ready for Christmas.  Two men who were next door neighbors had an unusual way of getting ready.  Just a few days before Christmas, they decided to go sailing while their wives went Christmas shopping.  It was a beautiful day with a fair wind, but after a few hours they noticed the skies were clouding over.  The wind picked up.  A storm arose.  The sea became rough, and the men had trouble keeping the boat on course.

 

As they maneuvered toward land, they hit a sandbar and the boat ran aground.  Both men jumped overboard and began to push and shove with all their strength, trying to get the boat into deeper water.  It looked as if they were headed for disaster, but at least one of them didn’t seem to mind at all.  He was knee-deep in mud, the waves were slamming against the side of the boat, and his hair was blowing wildly in the wind.  Still, he turned to the other man and gave him a big grin.  He said, “Sure beats Christmas shopping, doesn’t it?”

 

There are all sorts of ways to get ready for Christmas.  Here at church, we spend four weeks getting ready.  As part of our preparation, we reflect on the scriptures of Advent.  Every year on the second Sunday of Advent, we encounter a fascinating figure, a man who appears in all four of the gospels: John the Baptist.

 

Here, as Luke describes him, John is urging everyone who will listen to prepare the way of the Lord.  People flock to hear from all over the Judean countryside, and from the city of Jerusalem as well.  Country folk, their hands rough from long days working in the fields, put down their pitchforks, leave their livestock, and come to listen.  City folk, with their smooth hands and fine clothes, rush out to the wilderness to hear what John has to say.

 

What is it that draws them to the wilderness?  It’s hard to believe that John himself was the reason they left their homes and headed into unfamiliar territory.  In his gospel, Mark describes John in vivid detail: “John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist” (Mark 1: 6).  Mark even tells us about John’s diet.  It’s not the usual fare.  He eats locusts and wild honey.  Mark doesn’t describe his voice, but my guess is that it isn’t soft and soothing.  After all, it’s a voice crying in the wilderness.

 

John is an eccentric figure.  He’s outspoken.  He probably doesn’t get a lot of dinner invitations. It wouldn’t be surprising if people went out of their way not to see him.  But that isn’t what happens.  People flock to hear John.  In spite of the rigors of travel to the wilderness, in spite of the risks of being robbed by bandits on the way, they make the arduous journey, by donkey or on foot, to hear what this strange prophet has to say.

 

John is an eccentric figure, but they don’t come because of the man.  They come because of the message. “Prepare the way of the Lord!” he cries.  For generations, these people have worshiped in the synagogue.  They have heard the words of the prophet Malachi, as we heard a few minutes ago, foretelling the coming of a messenger, a messenger who will prepare the way of the Lord.  From their earliest days, they have heard their mothers and fathers say that one day, a voice in the wilderness would announce the coming of the promised One: the One at whose coming every valley would be lifted up and every rough place made smooth.

Now, they hear that voice in the voice of John.  His message is that something good, something promised from God, is on the way.  People come out to the wilderness in droves to hear John shout the good news that the One is coming: the One who will be light in their darkness, hope in their hopelessness, freedom from their captivity.

 

John is eccentric and strange, as strange as someone from another planet, but his message can’t be ignored.  “Prepare the way of the Lord!  Repent!  Change your lives!” he says.  John doesn’t have a lot of details.  He doesn’t even know the name of the One who is coming, but he knows this coming means the beginning of a whole new way of life.  The women and men who flock to hear him are longing for that new way of life.  They were ready to take the plunge into the waters of the Jordan River, to be baptized, washed clean of their sins, and make a new beginning.

 

These days, everywhere we look, we see the warm and fuzzy images our culture associates with Christmas.  We see jolly Santas, cute pudgy babies, angels with rosy cheeks.  Even Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer has a smile on his face.  But there’s one face you don’t see around much: John the Baptist.  You don’t see John’s scraggly bearded face amidst the twinkling Christmas lights and the tasteful greens in the holiday arrangements.  What do you suppose would happen today, if John broke in upon our Christmas preparations?  What would happen if John showed up?

 

Last week I came upon a playful answer to that question, written by preacher Donna Ross.  She imagines what would happen if John were to set up his pulpit, today, in the middle of a shopping mall.  She says, “Now, imagine this:  in comes John, right into the mall.  It’s deep winter, but he’s wearing sandals on his bare feet, and yes, he’s wearing his camel’s hair coat, tied with a leather belt.  Now he strides through the double doors of the mall and comes out into the open space near the fountain, and he’s crying out, ‘Repent!’”

 

[People say to each other], “’What’s this awful man got to do with Christmas?  Get him out of here, so we can get our shopping done!’  But wait: imagine this: John is a powerful preacher.  The adults cease their frantic shopping and start to gather round him.  The teenagers [look up from their phones] to look at him and laugh, but then they find themselves listening.  The children hear him and leave Santa’s line.  They tug on their parents’ coats and ask, ‘What’s that man doing?  What’s he saying?’

 

“He’s crying out, ‘Change your lives!’ and John is such a powerful preacher that the lights, the carols, the shopping, even Santa’s line – are all forgotten and people begin to ask, ‘What shall we do?’ and John says, ‘Repent, and be baptized.’ And he begins to baptize them, right in the beautiful mall fountain” (Ross, quoted in Pulpit Resource, vol. 33, No. 4, p, 52).

 

John is outrageous and outspoken, but his message is as compelling to us today as it was in the wilderness long ago.  He speaks of getting ready, preparing the way for the coming of the Lord.  Preparing the way means a change of heart, repentance, turning in a new direction.  When the people ask what they should do, he tells them, “If you have two coats, give one to someone who has none.  If you have food, give some of it to the hungry.  Don’t go on buying and buying more things for yourselves; share what you have until everyone has enough” (paraphrased from Luke 3: 10 – 13).  John urges us to change our lives and make ready for the coming of the Lord.  John urges us to welcome the God who calls us to turn from our sinful ways; who, as writer Anne Lamott says, “loves us just the way we are and too much to let us stay that way.”

One story that is told this time of year never seems to get stale: Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.  It’s a story we never seem to get tired of.  The main character in the story is a surly old man named Ebenezer Scrooge.  Scrooge lives a miserly existence.  He sees nothing good about being generous with the poor.  He doesn’t even provide a decent salary to his workers.  He holds on tight to his money and hates the thought of parting with any of it.  But it’s not only money that Scrooge withholds from others.  It is his entire being.  He withholds love and kindness; he withholds warmth and friendship.

 

Then, one night, Scrooge goes through a profound crisis.  He sees himself through the eyes of others.  He has a vivid vision of his past, and then his present.  Those visions are disturbing, but what is most frightful to him is when he is granted the opportunity of a lifetime.   He is allowed to witness his future.  His future proves to be so dark and frightening, that it causes a dramatic change in him.  He begins a radical transformation.  He becomes an entirely new person.  He’s no longer cold and indifferent to people – he’s generous and compassionate!  You might say that Scrooge, the old curmudgeon, heard, in his visions, the wake-up call of John the Baptist.  He heard opportunity too: the chance to make the change of heart that would prepare a way for the coming of the Lord.

 

“A Christmas Carol” is a heartwarming story.  But it’s more than that.  It’s a hopeful story.  It gives us hope that we also can make changes that are needed in our lives.  We too can break free from hurtful habits.  We too can rise up from the ruts we’ve gotten stuck in.  We can let go of grudges and grievances that keep us from loving others fully as Christ loves us.  We can become more kind and compassionate, more humble and hospitable, more joyful and generous.

 

Long ago in the wilderness, people rushed to hear the good news John had to tell.  “Prepare the way!” he cried.  “Change your lives!” It is earth-shaking news; news of the coming of the Lord: of valleys lifted up and mountains brought low.  It is good news of the coming of the One who will be light in our darkness, hope in our hopelessness, freedom from our captivity.  It is news to change our hearts and lives.

 

Advent is a time to prepare for the coming of the Lord, into our lives.  How do we prepare? We prepare by taking a good hard look at ourselves, and changing where we need to.  We prepare by asking ourselves, can we share more of what we have with people who don’t have as much?  Can we be more welcoming to the strangers who might come to us?  Can we show a deeper love to those who are closest to us?

 

 

 

Rev. Elva Merry Pawle

December 9, 2018

Advent 2