Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey.
Do you still think a preacher’s job is easy?
I’d like to open this meditation with the lyrics from a children’s Advent song about John the Baptist. It’s entitled Bugs for Lunch. Maybe you’ve heard it???
Jesus said John the Baptist was great.
The greatest one who ever lived.
But if old John were with us today,
He’d tell us something like this:
If you’re on the wrong road, go the other way.
If you’ve got two coats, give one away.
When Jesus comes, PREPARE THE WAY,
And Don’t forget your bugs….
If John the Baptist were your child’s 4th-grade teacher you’d probably ask for a change of classes. If your daughter brought John home for dinner, you’d probably have a very long talk with her later that evening.
Who is this man named John? He so grumpy. He’s so weird. Now I know why the Hebrew word for Prophet is also the same word for Crazy. Okay, so he’s a prophet, but he wears hairy clothes and eats flying grasshoppers.
John is not your average cleric. He doesn’t conduct liturgies in nice churches or stand behind a nice wood-carved pulpit. No, John takes his message to the great outdoors. If John were here today, he would be preaching to people in the Walmart parking lot. Right in the middle of all those people who are counting the shopping days left ’til Christmas, he’d be shouting at the top of his lungs, PREPARE THE WAY OF THE LORD. . . MAKE A STRAIGHT HIGHWAY IN THE WILDERNESS FOR THE LORD!
If I had been Mark, I think I would have just conveniently lost my notes on this first chapter of his Gospel. But guess what? This grubby guy who seems to be one burger short of a Happy Meal is given a tremendous honor, the honor of introducing the Christ to the world. Can you imagine the parallel today? It would be kind of like Louis Farrakhan introducing Pope Francis.
Actually, I’m glad that Mark gave us today’s Gospel because in John the Baptist we have been given a Living Sacrament that reminds us that the Gospel of Jesus Christ isn’t a big ball of sunny fluff. We are reminded that Jesus Christ is most definitely an EXTREMIST and that his message is indisputably REBELLIOUS! In the midst of our complacency and our contentment, the little hymn snaps us back with the words, Don’t forget your bugs.
If we read the New Testament and feel like we’re cuddling up to a light novel and a warm cup of cocoa, then we need to re-read it again and again until at least some of our serenity is challenged. John the Baptist reminds us that the Gospel of Jesus Christ isn’t meant to be whispered in polite tones among Christians who already know each other; it is meant to be shouted to a world of people who will look at you as though you have a mouth full of locusts and the smell of camel on your clothes. Advent isn’t just a time to reminisce as to how Jesus will make our lives happier or better. He has come to save us from our slavery by putting it to death.
Have you ever taken note of how the really big biblical events happen in the wilderness? The Israelites wandered there for 40 years. The prophets made their Spiritual retreats to the desolate places. Jesus contemplated his ministry in the wilderness. Don’t we all have some wilderness places in our lives? Isn’t there a wilderness in broken relationships, in a sense of failure, in moments of emotional pain, in times of grief and loss, loneliness and abandonment, in times of anxiety and stress?
This whole business of making a straight highway for the coming of the Lord in the wilderness is meant to show us that our task isn’t to eliminate the wilderness. Our spiritual task is to welcome the Christ into our wilderness. The wilderness is without familiar landmarks. The wilderness teaches us to depend upon every word of God!
Have you ever thought about this? The Bible tells of only two temptation stories. The temptation of Adam and the temptation of Jesus. The setting for these stories is quite instructive. Adam was tempted in a lush garden, and he succumbed. Jesus was tempted in a barren wilderness, and he triumphed. Jesus knows his way around the wilderness.
Therefore, the prophets shout, Make a straight highway in the wilderness for the Lord! Make a straight highway. You probably didn’t realize that when you were baptized you were automatically qualified to be an engineer for the Department of Transportation did you?
When I was in high school, I lived in a then-little town called Walnut. It was east of Los Angeles, and back in 1968, it seemed like we lived in the wilderness. Then construction began on the Pomona Freeway, our private artery back to civilization.
I remember one day going to check on its progress, and there it was, four lanes each way of a silvery, unblemished concrete that went perfectly straight as far as the eye could see. I remember wondering how many things had to be moved out of the way so that highway 60 could cut a straight line.
So it is with the construction of the straight highway to our hearts. Advent is the time to take inventory, and to discern what it is that we, as individuals, as families and as churches will need to move out of the way. Not all of it will be pleasant and easy, but it is necessary if we wish to forge a clear path for the Christ into our hearts.
I think the camel-haired, locust eating, almost raving maniac, shouting at people outside of town may be symbolic of all that we must surrender to be recognizable in this new Jesus Kingdom.
Yes, we’re supposed to surrender to love, but don’t forget,
it’s not just ordinary love: it’s agape. This is the kind of love that’s difficult because it’s so darn illogical. Agape isn’t just loving God, it also means loving one another, even if one of the others is an enemy. There’s the hard part.
Some years ago, when I first entered the computer age, the signature I used when I sent out E-mail ended with the familiar phrase: Love God. Love one another.
In the early days of the Internet, some of you may remember that if you wanted to sign up to an E-mail group, you had to write subscribe in the body of an E-mail and send it to the list, and you would get back an automated E-mail letting you know if you were successful.
One day I was sending in a subscribe command to an automated computer to sign up for a weekly clergy Lectionary study. I put the word subscribe in the body of the E-mail and sent it off. There was only one problem. I forgot to turn off my signature which was also in the body.
About a half hour later, I got a computer-generated message back that said:
The command ‘LOVE’ is not recognized.
Without knowing it, I think that computer summed up the problem that Jesus understood only too well. You see, agape isn’t inviting God into our little corner. It’s being willing to give up part of our little corner for the benefit of others.
Someone once wrote that given the choice between the release of Jesus or the murderer, Barabbas, the crowds chose Barabbas. But given the same choice, Jesus would have chosen Barabbas also!
With all my college and seminary training, and all my years of
teaching and leading and praying, I still wonder if I even begin to
understand that kind of Love.
The wilderness can raise its ugly head in many ways: You can often carve a path through it to Christ by simply holding a hand, making a visit, touching, praying, caring.
John, on this Second Sunday of Advent, in his own unique way, is trying to tell us that even the narrowest of paths can become a four-lane highway.
Oh, and Don’t Forget your bugs…
Great meditation!! Love the bugginess of it. Hits home. Thank you.
THANK YOU GAIL! It’s always good to hear from you.