Matthew 3:1-12
In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 3 This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah:
“A voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.’”
John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.
But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.
“I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
John the Baptist was a reformer. And from most accounts, he happened to be a reformer who yelled a lot. His methodology seems to have been to scare people toward the proverbial straight-and-narrow path. “Repent, you brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee? Beware lest you get cut down and thrown into the fire.”
Not all of us respond well to yelling, threats, and intimidation . . . a message many in society have yet to hear. Some people live continuously in a scorched-earth world.
But when you unknowingly ride your bicycle into oncoming traffic, a calm, well-considered warning gently spoken will not do.
When by inattentiveness you have wandered your Chevy pickup perilously close to the overlook’s guardrail, a calm and rational discussion is not in order.
When the house is on fire, a jolting wake-up call is needed.
Sometimes we all need a shout, a jolt, an attention-grabbing moment from which we can begin to travel in a different direction. We need John the Baptist standing at cliff’s edge shouting, “Watch out!” Often, life’s most difficult, and sometimes most tragic, moments provide just that jolt, that summons to rearrange life.
Those moments are John the Baptist moments . . . harsh, unyielding, in-your-face. They are not my personal style, nor yours perhaps. Still, often God has had to use John the Baptist moments to get my attention, to wake me up, to stir me to life, when I would not wake up any other way. I’m guessing that is true for all of us.
• Reflect on a couple of “John the Baptist moments” from your past . . . times when God got your attention in a blunt, jolting way. When did that happen? What were the circumstances? How did life shift for you after that John the Baptist moment?
• Is there is a John the Baptist voice now in your life which you are ignoring?
Showing posts with label repentance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label repentance. Show all posts
Sunday, December 8, 2019
Sunday, December 16, 2018
Third Sunday of Advent - December 16, 2018
What Should We Do?
Zephaniah 3:14-18
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:10-18
"Sing, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel; be glad and rejoice with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem. For the Lord will remove his hand of judgment and disperse the armies of your enemy. And the Lord himself, the King of Israel, will live among you! At last your troubles will be over—you need fear no more.
On that day the announcement to Jerusalem will be, “Cheer up, don’t be afraid. For the Lord your God has arrived to live among you. He is a mighty Savior. He will give you victory. He will rejoice over you with great gladness; he will love you and not accuse you.” Is that a joyous choir I hear? No, it is the Lord himself exulting over you in happy song.
I have gathered your wounded and taken away your reproach." (Zeph. 3:14-18, The Living Bible)
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! (Phil. 4:4, NIV)
The Third Sunday of Advent is Gaudate Sunday, mostly gathered around themes of rejoicing. On Gaudate Sunday, from the Latin "to rejoice," we light a pink candle -- following the purple candles of the first two Advent weeks -- as a pause from the intensity of Advent.
Thus, the Old Testament reading from Zephaniah and the New Testament Epistle from Philippians emphasize rejoicing.
But then, almost as if on cue, here comes John the Baptist with his fiery message of repentance and axes ready to chop down out-of-touch trees. John's sermon challenges our joy. Oh well . . . so much for the break from intensity!
John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.”
“What should we do then?” the crowd asked.
John answered, “Anyone who has two coats should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.”
Even tax collectors came to be baptized. “Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?”
“Don’t collect any more than you are required to,” he told them.
Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?”
He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely — be content with your pay.” (Lk. 3:7-14)
John's basic message is repentance. We have made repentance into a scary word, thinking repent is something bad people must do. In reality, repentance refers to a moment-by-moment returning to the Source of our lives, coming back moment-by-moment to an awareness of God, taking on an increasingly expansive vision of God, self, others, and the world that is attuned with God's own vision. Repentance denotes both an interior shift in consciousness, as well as an exterior change in action. Lopsided repentance, in which we attend to one or the other, will not get us to transformation. We must continually return, giving attention to both the interior and the exterior.
The crowd asks a question. In the Gospels, "the crowd" most always represents the behavior or the questions that any person might ask. "The crowd" is the universal voice of Everyman and Everywoman.
"What shall we do, then?" they ask. Good question.
On one level, John responds, "Well, since you asked . . , do what you can. Do what is right. If you have two coats, give one to someone who don't have a coat. If you have extra food, give some to a person who's hungry. Don't cheat. Don't bully. Don't use your position to get ahead." To each group of inquires, John gives directed counsel on what to do. Most of it sounds simple and straightforward. Plain-talk. His answers are social in nature (share what you have, don't extort, don't bully, etc.), but he does not critique the unjust systems which have contributed to these societal ills. He gives advice on a personal, relational level.
At this level, it's almost as if John's advice is, "Give what you can. I'm not asking for a huge sacrifice, the old-fashioned give-till-it-hurts. Just do what you can, what is right and just. You don't have to give until you have nothing left for yourself. Just give out of your abundance. You have enough, someone else has not-enough. So share."
This first level may be sufficient for you today. If it suffices for you, then you can stop reading here.
But I think the passage offers us another level of spiritual insight and challenge which bites us just a bit more.
Spiritual teachers interested in life-change know that life always flows from the inside to the outside. Our doing always emerges from our being. So initially, spiritual teachers are not nearly as concerned with our actions as with our inner landscape . . . our attitudes, thoughts, motivations, patterns of perception and action. Most often, these teachers begin on the inside, attempting to shape us inwardly, knowing that inner change will bring about outer change.
Transformed people (on the inside) transform the world (on the outside).
However, there is another way to get at this, which seems to be the way John chooses. John begins on the outside, with action. He gives the crowd something to do that at the same time seems quite simple, yet nearly impossible. That is, he suggests some action that people will resist, then invites reflection on why they cannot accomplish the outer action. I know, it sounds convoluted. Let me demonstrate . . .
John said, "Anyone who has two coats should share with the one who has none."
I don't have two coats. I have many more than two coats. It should be simple enough for me to share with someone who has none. But then there are voices within me that come up with all kinds of objections, all sorts of rationalizations.
"I have a work coat and a dress coat. I CAN'T get rid of those. I have a jacket for mild, breezy weather and a coat that's a little heavier for temperatures just above freezing and another coat that's more of a parka for the cold-cold. I have another coat, but my mother gave it to me and it has sentimental value . . . and still another coat that doesn't fit me, but maybe it will one day. And if I do give one away, which do I give? Which should I keep? And to whom should I give it? How do I know they will take care of it?"
Do you see what I mean? John's instruction sounds easy. Maybe it should be easy. But it's not. Trying to take some action in the outer world begins to bring up things within me that are skewed, things that are off-center and out of balance. Any attempt to take a new course of action is foreign to me. I have behavior patterns already rutted into my thinking.
Go ahead and run through the entire list John mentions. Who among us does not make excuses, come up with justifications, find ourselves rationalizing? We have dozens of good reasons to explain why we cannot do what John asks of us.
John's words invite us to notice our hesitation . . . to pay attention to the inner resistance that keeps us from acting justly . . . to listen to the internal commentaries which roll around in our minds, almost beneath consciousness . . . to observe the road-blocks within us that keep us from doing our faith . . . to address the inner obstacles we stumble over.
Then, John believes, we will see change in both our inner landscape and in the way we live in the world. This is the repentance, the moral change, John preaches and advocates.
For Reflection:
For reflection today, I offer you this meditation by John Shea, which is based on our John the Baptist text. It is long, but well worth your attention.
The crowds asked him, “What should we do?”
Glad you asked.
Pick a value. It must be a transcendent value, one that is grounded in God. Not one of those contemporary whims that pass as values, like “keeping in touch.”
I mean a real value, like compassion or forgiveness or reconciliation or peace or justice. Something that has some bite in it and will be around long after you’re gone. Something moths and rust cannot consume and thieves cannot break in and steal. For example, let’s take compassion.
Now take ten minutes a day in the morning and meditate on it. Clear your mind of other thoughts and distractions. If they continue to intrude, just notice them and let them go. Return to compassion.
It is good to have a phrase to repeat silently and mindfully. Some Buddhists think equality is the path to compassion, and they suggest a phrase like, “Everyone wants to be happy and doesn’t want to suffer.” As you slowly and silently repeat this phrase that makes you equal with everyone else, pictures of people you know may enter your mind. Simply use their name in the next phrase, “Joan wants to be happy and doesn’t want to suffer . . . Frank wants to be happy and doesn’t want to suffer,” and every so often say, “I want to be happy and don’t want to suffer.” Now you are in the human mess with everyone else.
When you have done this for about ten minutes, get on with the day. Don’t evaluate how the meditation is going. Dismiss all questions like “Did I do it right? Why am I doing this? Did I waste my time?” Just continue to do it.
Also you should read some stuff on compassion. Meditation is not enough. Over the long haul it will heighten your awareness of opportunities for compassionate action. But, in itself, it won’t make you much smarter about compassion. You need to read and ponder, to reflect on what you are reading. . . .
Now for the really important part. At the end of the day, take some time to review the day in the light of your spiritually grounded value of compassion. No doubt you will notice some things that could have been done differently if you had remembered your value of compassion.
Well, get on the phone or email and redo that situation. Don’t let embarrassment stop you. Just do it. You may be awkward at first, but you’ll get used to it.
This is repenting. Repentance is not what bad people have to do. It is what people who live out of transcendent values find necessary. Most of us don’t get it right the first time. We only notice we could have done it differently “over the shoulder.” But when we see a more compassionate way, we have to act on it. This is how we get better. A little.
Getting better means seeing a compassionate way while a situation is actually unfolding. Most likely the first time this happens you will have to pause to figure out what is going on. In the pause a response will come to you. Yes, a response will come to you. It will not be a carefully worked out strategy with all the pluses and minuses lined up in columns for you to evaluate. You will suddenly see it. Like it was there all along but you didn’t notice it. When it comes to you like that, this is the Holy Spirit. Say, “Thank you.”
And act on what you see. The courage to act on what you see will also come from the Holy Spirit. Say, “Thank you.”
Although you have compassion in your heart and you saw what to do and you did it, it may not have worked out very well. That’s not the Holy Spirit. That’s you. Redo it. Redoing and pausing / pausing and redoing are partners. Where there is one, you’ll find the other.
After a while, you’ll think, “I’m getting pretty damn good at this. I am probably the most compassionate person in this whole organization (family, neighborhood, etc.).” That’s your ego wanting to separate you from other people in order to feel superior. Say, “No thank you.”
Instead, humbly recommit yourself to your spiritual practice on compassion, your spiritual reading on compassion, and your experiments in bring compassion into all you do. That’s fire, the steady burning that does not burn out. Of course, by now you know where this perseverance comes from, so say, “Thank you.”
One last thing. This process is never over. Repenting is forever. Get used to it.
[John Shea, The Relentless Widow (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2006), 12-14.]
Zephaniah 3:14-18
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:10-18
"Sing, O daughter of Zion; shout, O Israel; be glad and rejoice with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem. For the Lord will remove his hand of judgment and disperse the armies of your enemy. And the Lord himself, the King of Israel, will live among you! At last your troubles will be over—you need fear no more.
On that day the announcement to Jerusalem will be, “Cheer up, don’t be afraid. For the Lord your God has arrived to live among you. He is a mighty Savior. He will give you victory. He will rejoice over you with great gladness; he will love you and not accuse you.” Is that a joyous choir I hear? No, it is the Lord himself exulting over you in happy song.
I have gathered your wounded and taken away your reproach." (Zeph. 3:14-18, The Living Bible)
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! (Phil. 4:4, NIV)
The Third Sunday of Advent is Gaudate Sunday, mostly gathered around themes of rejoicing. On Gaudate Sunday, from the Latin "to rejoice," we light a pink candle -- following the purple candles of the first two Advent weeks -- as a pause from the intensity of Advent.
Thus, the Old Testament reading from Zephaniah and the New Testament Epistle from Philippians emphasize rejoicing.
But then, almost as if on cue, here comes John the Baptist with his fiery message of repentance and axes ready to chop down out-of-touch trees. John's sermon challenges our joy. Oh well . . . so much for the break from intensity!
John said to the crowds coming out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ For I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.”
“What should we do then?” the crowd asked.
John answered, “Anyone who has two coats should share with the one who has none, and anyone who has food should do the same.”
Even tax collectors came to be baptized. “Teacher,” they asked, “what should we do?”
“Don’t collect any more than you are required to,” he told them.
Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?”
He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely — be content with your pay.” (Lk. 3:7-14)
John's basic message is repentance. We have made repentance into a scary word, thinking repent is something bad people must do. In reality, repentance refers to a moment-by-moment returning to the Source of our lives, coming back moment-by-moment to an awareness of God, taking on an increasingly expansive vision of God, self, others, and the world that is attuned with God's own vision. Repentance denotes both an interior shift in consciousness, as well as an exterior change in action. Lopsided repentance, in which we attend to one or the other, will not get us to transformation. We must continually return, giving attention to both the interior and the exterior.
The crowd asks a question. In the Gospels, "the crowd" most always represents the behavior or the questions that any person might ask. "The crowd" is the universal voice of Everyman and Everywoman.
"What shall we do, then?" they ask. Good question.
On one level, John responds, "Well, since you asked . . , do what you can. Do what is right. If you have two coats, give one to someone who don't have a coat. If you have extra food, give some to a person who's hungry. Don't cheat. Don't bully. Don't use your position to get ahead." To each group of inquires, John gives directed counsel on what to do. Most of it sounds simple and straightforward. Plain-talk. His answers are social in nature (share what you have, don't extort, don't bully, etc.), but he does not critique the unjust systems which have contributed to these societal ills. He gives advice on a personal, relational level.
At this level, it's almost as if John's advice is, "Give what you can. I'm not asking for a huge sacrifice, the old-fashioned give-till-it-hurts. Just do what you can, what is right and just. You don't have to give until you have nothing left for yourself. Just give out of your abundance. You have enough, someone else has not-enough. So share."
This first level may be sufficient for you today. If it suffices for you, then you can stop reading here.
But I think the passage offers us another level of spiritual insight and challenge which bites us just a bit more.
Spiritual teachers interested in life-change know that life always flows from the inside to the outside. Our doing always emerges from our being. So initially, spiritual teachers are not nearly as concerned with our actions as with our inner landscape . . . our attitudes, thoughts, motivations, patterns of perception and action. Most often, these teachers begin on the inside, attempting to shape us inwardly, knowing that inner change will bring about outer change.
Transformed people (on the inside) transform the world (on the outside).
However, there is another way to get at this, which seems to be the way John chooses. John begins on the outside, with action. He gives the crowd something to do that at the same time seems quite simple, yet nearly impossible. That is, he suggests some action that people will resist, then invites reflection on why they cannot accomplish the outer action. I know, it sounds convoluted. Let me demonstrate . . .
John said, "Anyone who has two coats should share with the one who has none."
I don't have two coats. I have many more than two coats. It should be simple enough for me to share with someone who has none. But then there are voices within me that come up with all kinds of objections, all sorts of rationalizations.
"I have a work coat and a dress coat. I CAN'T get rid of those. I have a jacket for mild, breezy weather and a coat that's a little heavier for temperatures just above freezing and another coat that's more of a parka for the cold-cold. I have another coat, but my mother gave it to me and it has sentimental value . . . and still another coat that doesn't fit me, but maybe it will one day. And if I do give one away, which do I give? Which should I keep? And to whom should I give it? How do I know they will take care of it?"
Do you see what I mean? John's instruction sounds easy. Maybe it should be easy. But it's not. Trying to take some action in the outer world begins to bring up things within me that are skewed, things that are off-center and out of balance. Any attempt to take a new course of action is foreign to me. I have behavior patterns already rutted into my thinking.
Go ahead and run through the entire list John mentions. Who among us does not make excuses, come up with justifications, find ourselves rationalizing? We have dozens of good reasons to explain why we cannot do what John asks of us.
John's words invite us to notice our hesitation . . . to pay attention to the inner resistance that keeps us from acting justly . . . to listen to the internal commentaries which roll around in our minds, almost beneath consciousness . . . to observe the road-blocks within us that keep us from doing our faith . . . to address the inner obstacles we stumble over.
Then, John believes, we will see change in both our inner landscape and in the way we live in the world. This is the repentance, the moral change, John preaches and advocates.
For Reflection:
For reflection today, I offer you this meditation by John Shea, which is based on our John the Baptist text. It is long, but well worth your attention.
The crowds asked him, “What should we do?”
Glad you asked.
Pick a value. It must be a transcendent value, one that is grounded in God. Not one of those contemporary whims that pass as values, like “keeping in touch.”
I mean a real value, like compassion or forgiveness or reconciliation or peace or justice. Something that has some bite in it and will be around long after you’re gone. Something moths and rust cannot consume and thieves cannot break in and steal. For example, let’s take compassion.
Now take ten minutes a day in the morning and meditate on it. Clear your mind of other thoughts and distractions. If they continue to intrude, just notice them and let them go. Return to compassion.
It is good to have a phrase to repeat silently and mindfully. Some Buddhists think equality is the path to compassion, and they suggest a phrase like, “Everyone wants to be happy and doesn’t want to suffer.” As you slowly and silently repeat this phrase that makes you equal with everyone else, pictures of people you know may enter your mind. Simply use their name in the next phrase, “Joan wants to be happy and doesn’t want to suffer . . . Frank wants to be happy and doesn’t want to suffer,” and every so often say, “I want to be happy and don’t want to suffer.” Now you are in the human mess with everyone else.
When you have done this for about ten minutes, get on with the day. Don’t evaluate how the meditation is going. Dismiss all questions like “Did I do it right? Why am I doing this? Did I waste my time?” Just continue to do it.
Also you should read some stuff on compassion. Meditation is not enough. Over the long haul it will heighten your awareness of opportunities for compassionate action. But, in itself, it won’t make you much smarter about compassion. You need to read and ponder, to reflect on what you are reading. . . .
Now for the really important part. At the end of the day, take some time to review the day in the light of your spiritually grounded value of compassion. No doubt you will notice some things that could have been done differently if you had remembered your value of compassion.
Well, get on the phone or email and redo that situation. Don’t let embarrassment stop you. Just do it. You may be awkward at first, but you’ll get used to it.
This is repenting. Repentance is not what bad people have to do. It is what people who live out of transcendent values find necessary. Most of us don’t get it right the first time. We only notice we could have done it differently “over the shoulder.” But when we see a more compassionate way, we have to act on it. This is how we get better. A little.
Getting better means seeing a compassionate way while a situation is actually unfolding. Most likely the first time this happens you will have to pause to figure out what is going on. In the pause a response will come to you. Yes, a response will come to you. It will not be a carefully worked out strategy with all the pluses and minuses lined up in columns for you to evaluate. You will suddenly see it. Like it was there all along but you didn’t notice it. When it comes to you like that, this is the Holy Spirit. Say, “Thank you.”
And act on what you see. The courage to act on what you see will also come from the Holy Spirit. Say, “Thank you.”
Although you have compassion in your heart and you saw what to do and you did it, it may not have worked out very well. That’s not the Holy Spirit. That’s you. Redo it. Redoing and pausing / pausing and redoing are partners. Where there is one, you’ll find the other.
After a while, you’ll think, “I’m getting pretty damn good at this. I am probably the most compassionate person in this whole organization (family, neighborhood, etc.).” That’s your ego wanting to separate you from other people in order to feel superior. Say, “No thank you.”
Instead, humbly recommit yourself to your spiritual practice on compassion, your spiritual reading on compassion, and your experiments in bring compassion into all you do. That’s fire, the steady burning that does not burn out. Of course, by now you know where this perseverance comes from, so say, “Thank you.”
One last thing. This process is never over. Repenting is forever. Get used to it.
[John Shea, The Relentless Widow (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2006), 12-14.]
Sunday, December 4, 2011
The Second Sunday of Advent -- December 4, 2011
Mark 1:1 - 8
The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, as it is written in Isaiah the prophet:
“I will send my messenger ahead of you,
who will prepare your way”—
“a voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.’”
And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. John wore clothing made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
According to Mark's Gospel, the beginning of the Good News about Jesus Christ is not Jesus, but John.
John lived into the words of Isaiah that a messenger would come to "prepare the way" for God's anointed. I have the sense -- slightly tongue-in-cheek, I'll admit -- that John came to do the dirty work, to talk about sin and repentance and confession in order for Jesus-meek-and-mild to come in love and healing.
I don't totally believe that, yet, I do affirm how difficult it can be to talk about sin and repentance and confession. I've never been able to do that well, to preach to others about their sinfulness without coming to a stark realization of my own. I sense that many of us are like that.
To be sure, I've been around some folks in my history who LOVE to talk about sin, who've found it energizing to blast other people for their "badness." Frankly, their eagerness to talk about sin and to make people feel bad in order to feel good seemed more than a little perverted to me.
Yet, confession and the intentional openness needed to receive forgiveness stand as the bedrock spiritual practices of any honest and growing life.
I find it so easy to be self-deceived, to not see myself as I truly am. I live in a cloud of illusion that I am either worse or better than I truly am. In confession, I simply say, "God, this is who I am. . . ." I tell the truth about myself. I present myself just as I am, in both my gifts and my fault, in my strengths and my weaknesses.
With God there is no need to clean up, dress up, or pretty up as I would to meet the Queen. I simply come just as I am. And I speak just who I am to God. In the coming and the speaking, an honesty arises that opens me to mercy, the generosity of God.
John didn't have to be a compelling preacher or a convicting speaker in order to get a response in the desert. He somehow had to convince the people to be honest about themselves in preparing for the anointed one.
The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, as it is written in Isaiah the prophet:
“I will send my messenger ahead of you,
who will prepare your way”—
“a voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.’”
And so John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. The whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem went out to him. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. John wore clothing made of camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I baptize you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
According to Mark's Gospel, the beginning of the Good News about Jesus Christ is not Jesus, but John.
John lived into the words of Isaiah that a messenger would come to "prepare the way" for God's anointed. I have the sense -- slightly tongue-in-cheek, I'll admit -- that John came to do the dirty work, to talk about sin and repentance and confession in order for Jesus-meek-and-mild to come in love and healing.
I don't totally believe that, yet, I do affirm how difficult it can be to talk about sin and repentance and confession. I've never been able to do that well, to preach to others about their sinfulness without coming to a stark realization of my own. I sense that many of us are like that.
To be sure, I've been around some folks in my history who LOVE to talk about sin, who've found it energizing to blast other people for their "badness." Frankly, their eagerness to talk about sin and to make people feel bad in order to feel good seemed more than a little perverted to me.
Yet, confession and the intentional openness needed to receive forgiveness stand as the bedrock spiritual practices of any honest and growing life.
I find it so easy to be self-deceived, to not see myself as I truly am. I live in a cloud of illusion that I am either worse or better than I truly am. In confession, I simply say, "God, this is who I am. . . ." I tell the truth about myself. I present myself just as I am, in both my gifts and my fault, in my strengths and my weaknesses.
With God there is no need to clean up, dress up, or pretty up as I would to meet the Queen. I simply come just as I am. And I speak just who I am to God. In the coming and the speaking, an honesty arises that opens me to mercy, the generosity of God.
John didn't have to be a compelling preacher or a convicting speaker in order to get a response in the desert. He somehow had to convince the people to be honest about themselves in preparing for the anointed one.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
The Second Sunday of Advent -- December 5, 2010
Matthew 3:1 - 12
In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah:
“A voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.’”
John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.
But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.
“I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
It's Advent. You knew John the Baptist would show up at some point!
John makes an appearance during the season of Lent when we consider purification and cleansing. He shows up during Advent because his basic message is, "The Promised One is coming. Get ready!"
His message, "One is coming after me," harmonizes with the basic Advent prayer, "Come, Lord Jesus!"
Several elements of the passage strike me as important for Advent and spiritual understanding. I'd really like to say something about John's idea of Jesus' coming. He had a skewed understanding of what the coming of Jesus would be about. John imagined Jesus would be about judgment, separation and violence -- "wrath," "chopping down trees," and "fire." I'm tempted to go there, but I'll save that for another time.
I do want to say a word about John's idea of repentance. For John, repentance was about leveling paths, or "making paths straight."
Repentance literally means to take on a larger mind, or to go beyond the mind you currently have.
Put another way, we each have life-assumptions out of which we do life day by day. Those life-assumptions provide a kind of reliable framework for us. That framework is comfortable because it has been shaped over the span of our lifetime. It includes how we think about life, how we feel about certain people and situations, and how we see and interpret life-events. To live with this framework -- or mind -- keeps us small. As long as we stay confined in our own experiences and ideas about how life is shaped, we cannot join God in the larger dance of peace, reconciliation, compassion and love . . . what Jesus called the "kingdom of God."
Repentance means going beyond this small thinking, this small living. It means that we enter a larger life-world by giving up egocentric ideas about how life is structured. We enter the larger God-world where "all things are possible."
This is the kind of repentance to which John invites us. He invites us to open ourselves to the larger world of God's kingdom.
The opening to which John invites us is characterized by straight or level paths. His language implies lowering the peaks and raising the valleys so that the path is passable. A part of getting ready for God is this work of leveling, this shedding of the baggage we carry in order to have a spirit of openness before God.
The goal in this leveling seems to be that we avoid a "teeter-totter" spirituality that swings from high ecstasy to the pits of despair, and back again. Not uncommonly, many Christians live in these extreme swings, with their sense of connection to God blown about by whatever the winds of external circumstances bring.
John advocates a "straight-path" spirituality that is not blown by the winds of outer circumstance, but is steady and persevering, doggedly determined to live even the routine, mundane moments of life rooted in the Source of Life.
This makes John a perfect voice for Advent. We are each to make a "straight path" within ourselves for the Promise of God. How do we do that? The answer is as different as there are people. You have to find your unique way to level the path in your life, as I have to find it in mine. What is non-negotiable, though, is that we each must get ready.
We must each prepare within our hearts a way for the Lord and make straight paths for him . . . perhaps with a special commitment to prayer during Advent . . . perhaps we work our way through a particular piece of devotional material . . . perhaps we give ourselves a day of retreat as a pause during Advent . . . perhaps we consider gifts that are mindful of those who lack basic life necessities.
Here's what I know: John says to get ready, which includes repentance and making straight paths. We cannot make him come. Our repentance and straight paths do not force God's hand. But you and I are called to prepare, to get ready.
You can't make him come. But if you don't get ready, you can miss him when he does.
In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah:
“A voice of one calling in the wilderness,
‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
make straight paths for him.’”
John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.
But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.
“I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
It's Advent. You knew John the Baptist would show up at some point!
John makes an appearance during the season of Lent when we consider purification and cleansing. He shows up during Advent because his basic message is, "The Promised One is coming. Get ready!"
His message, "One is coming after me," harmonizes with the basic Advent prayer, "Come, Lord Jesus!"
Several elements of the passage strike me as important for Advent and spiritual understanding. I'd really like to say something about John's idea of Jesus' coming. He had a skewed understanding of what the coming of Jesus would be about. John imagined Jesus would be about judgment, separation and violence -- "wrath," "chopping down trees," and "fire." I'm tempted to go there, but I'll save that for another time.
I do want to say a word about John's idea of repentance. For John, repentance was about leveling paths, or "making paths straight."
Repentance literally means to take on a larger mind, or to go beyond the mind you currently have.
Put another way, we each have life-assumptions out of which we do life day by day. Those life-assumptions provide a kind of reliable framework for us. That framework is comfortable because it has been shaped over the span of our lifetime. It includes how we think about life, how we feel about certain people and situations, and how we see and interpret life-events. To live with this framework -- or mind -- keeps us small. As long as we stay confined in our own experiences and ideas about how life is shaped, we cannot join God in the larger dance of peace, reconciliation, compassion and love . . . what Jesus called the "kingdom of God."
Repentance means going beyond this small thinking, this small living. It means that we enter a larger life-world by giving up egocentric ideas about how life is structured. We enter the larger God-world where "all things are possible."
This is the kind of repentance to which John invites us. He invites us to open ourselves to the larger world of God's kingdom.
The opening to which John invites us is characterized by straight or level paths. His language implies lowering the peaks and raising the valleys so that the path is passable. A part of getting ready for God is this work of leveling, this shedding of the baggage we carry in order to have a spirit of openness before God.
The goal in this leveling seems to be that we avoid a "teeter-totter" spirituality that swings from high ecstasy to the pits of despair, and back again. Not uncommonly, many Christians live in these extreme swings, with their sense of connection to God blown about by whatever the winds of external circumstances bring.
John advocates a "straight-path" spirituality that is not blown by the winds of outer circumstance, but is steady and persevering, doggedly determined to live even the routine, mundane moments of life rooted in the Source of Life.
This makes John a perfect voice for Advent. We are each to make a "straight path" within ourselves for the Promise of God. How do we do that? The answer is as different as there are people. You have to find your unique way to level the path in your life, as I have to find it in mine. What is non-negotiable, though, is that we each must get ready.
We must each prepare within our hearts a way for the Lord and make straight paths for him . . . perhaps with a special commitment to prayer during Advent . . . perhaps we work our way through a particular piece of devotional material . . . perhaps we give ourselves a day of retreat as a pause during Advent . . . perhaps we consider gifts that are mindful of those who lack basic life necessities.
Here's what I know: John says to get ready, which includes repentance and making straight paths. We cannot make him come. Our repentance and straight paths do not force God's hand. But you and I are called to prepare, to get ready.
You can't make him come. But if you don't get ready, you can miss him when he does.
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