A Voice In The Wilderness

Today is the second Sunday in advent, our period of waiting for the coming of the Christ child. Earlier today we lit the candle of peace. Yet our Gospel reading today features John the Baptist in the wilderness preaching repentance, preaching change. His words don’t always sound very peaceful. John the Baptist isn’t the first person who comes to mend when I hear the word “peace”. And yet John points to a peace far deeper and far more lasting than the “peace and quiet” for which we so often yearn.

Each of the Gospel writers shape their stories in various ways. Remember that last year, Mark’s Gospel started out with the words, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus” and then went right into talking about John. Luke, writing 20 years later for a wealthy patron whom Luke names as Theophilus, is very careful about setting out the background for his Gospel. In fact, he introduced his gospel by saying that he’d heard from the eyewitnesses to Jesus and read earlier accounts, and wanted to take all this material and set it carefully in the proper order so that his readers would understand. And so Luke 3rd chapter gives us historical context, telling us who society’s key players, the movers and shakers, were at the time – “Let’s see…15th year of the Emperor Tiberius Caesar…Pontius Pilate governor of Judea, Herod the tetrarch or ruler of Galilee, Herod’s brother Philip the tetrarch in charge of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanius the tetrarch or ruler of Abilene…Annas and Caiaphas in charge at the Temple. After telling us “who’s who” from the view of the society of the day, Luke then begins to tell us who’s really in charge…”the word of God came to John the son of Zechariah in the wilderness.

Last Sunday during the Bible study and coffee hour we talked a little about John’s birth. John’s father was Zechariah, and John’s birth to the aged couple Zechariah and Elizabeth was announced by the angel Gabriel. Zechariah was one of the priests in the Temple at Jerusalem, and had been offering burnt incense when Gabriel appeared to him. Zechariah was a priest, and you know what they say about “PK’s” or preachers’ kids…they have a reputation for rebelling and running wild. Whether it was “PK syndrome” or for some other reason, Zechariah’s son John did his ministry in the wilderness, far away from the Temple establishment, and in fact John was quite critical of the religious leaders, calling them a brood of vipers. He grew up among them, surrounded by them, so I guess he’d have known what he was talking about. Even so, I’m sure Zechariah must have been perplexed at his son’s harsh criticism of all Zechariah had devoted his life to, and you might imagine Zechariah’s conversations with his priestly colleagues…. “what did I do wrong?...well, maybe John just had to find his own way…he always did kind of march to his own drummer….”

Luke follows the pattern of Mark and Matthew in tying John’s ministry – a baptism of repentance for forgiveness of sins – to words from Isaiah 40. The Isaiah 40 passage begins softly – “Comfort, comfort ye my people.” Handel’s “Messiah” has a single tenor voice singing these words – “Comfort ye….comfort ye my people, says your God, says your God” Isaiah says to speak tenderly to Jerusalem and cry that she has served her term – in context, her exile in Babylon – and that her penalty is paid. And then Isaiah moves to the words quoted in the Gospels – “A voice crying in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord. And then we get words that sound like a project for PennDot – “make straight in the desert a highway for our God – every valley shall be lifted up, every mountain brought low, the crooked straight and the rough places plain.” Our civil engineering project having concluded, Luke, quoting Isaiah, says, “then the glory of the Lord will be revealed, and all people will see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

Repentance. Forgiveness. Valleys lifted up, mountains leveled. In a word, change. Earlier today we lit the candle of peace, but the idea of change doesn’t always bring peace. In fact, change usually brings anxiety. What’s wrong with the way things are now? If we change, we’ll have to learn new ways of doing things. We might make mistakes. We might fail. And for all the talk in church about repentance – change for those not in church - church is probably one of the places most resistant to change. Congregations have split over matters as trivial as the color of a new set of curtains in the social hall. There’s an old joke among pastors that the seven last words of the church are “we never did it that way before….”

Change brings anxiety – unless our current situation is a painful one, in which change may be very welcome. If the status quo is comfortable, we’ll resist change, but if we’re already in a world of hurt – well, when you think about it, what do we have to lose? And those who heard John’s message gladly were in a world of hurt – economically impoverished, politically oppressed and beaten down by Rome, spiritually oppressed by a corrupt religious hierarchy that had lost its way, much of which was in Rome’s pocket. For those in positions of comfort and power – the Caesars and Herods and Annases and Caiaphases of the world, the bad news was – things were about to change. For those who were at the bottom and on the margins of society, for those who were hurting, the good news was – things were about to change. For those whose lives were a perpetual struggle, the prospect of change brought, not anxiety, but hope and peace – the candles we lit today.

How about us? How we respond to John’s message may depend on, to use a favorite United Church of Christ phrase, where we are on our journey of life. If we are in a world of hurt, conscious of the brokenness in our lives, conscious that our actions have alienated us from God and neighbor, John’s message may be welcome – we know the status quo isn’t working, isn’t making it any more, and we’re overjoyed that change is even an option. Change may involve struggle and hard work, but we’re happy to embrace change – happy to repent, to leave our old ways behind – to have the chance for something better. And if you feel that tug of the heart, that voice of God calling you to change, to repent, I urge you to listen, and to respond. If today you hear His voice, harden not your heart.

If we’ve been in the church for a while, I’m concerned that John’s message may fade into background noise…We hear about John every year about this time, hear about a voice in the wilderness, a highway for our God, baptism of repentance…yep, we’ve heard it all before. After all, we may think, it’s those people out there that need to change. We’re already in the church. We’re saved. We’re ok. It may be unsettling to consider that the religious leaders of John’s day were the ones for whom John had the harshest words. It may be unsettling for us to consider that God, who has done so much for us and in whom we’ve had faith for so long, may yet again be doing new things in our midst, may yet again be calling us forward to new acts of obedience…. to move out of places that at one time nourished us but now have us stuck, to change direction; in a word, to repent.

Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill
shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.’” Luke 3:4-6

In the days and weeks ahead, may we prepare and clear the path for the new things that God will be doing in our midst. Amen.