2023 12 10 Sermon
In the Wilderness a Voice Cries Out
Advent 2 B
Mark 1:1-8; Isaiah 40:1-11
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
Last week, on the first Sunday of Advent, our gospel reading was from near the end of the Gospel of Mark. Jesus was warning his disciples that one day the great Temple of Jerusalem would be destroyed—and about 40 years later, that’s what happened, as the Romans defeated Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple in the year 70 AD. In the middle of offering this warning, Jesus also made a promise, which echoed the words of Isaiah 40:8, saying “heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away” [Mark 13:31].
It would have been shocking back then for people to imagine that the Temple could possibly be destroyed, but Jesus was giving his assurance that God’s presence with us does not depend on a Temple. God’s presence is not confined to a temple, or a church, or to any place or country or nation or people. God is present in all times and all places, because God is always speaking his Word into all of creation.
St. Mark made this point towards the end of his gospel, but he makes a similar point right at the beginning, in the reading we heard this morning. As Mark tells it, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus the Messiah” begins out in the wilderness, as John the Baptist was getting people ready for Jesus to appear and begin his public ministry. John picked a highly symbolic location, because being “in the wilderness” was a vivid reminder that the Hebrews had spent 40 years wandering in the wilderness after escaping from slavery in Egypt. During those 40 years out in the wilderness, God was getting them ready to enter the Promised Land, where they could finally live as free people. With the inspired leadership of Moses, the Israelites were learning how to set up a new kind of society based on justice, mercy, freedom, and equal distribution of resources; this was in obedience to God and God’s commands. The society they were to set up in the Promised Land was meant to be in contrast to the authoritarian societies of Egypt where they had been slaves for 40 years, and in contrast to the Canaanites (whom they were about to conquer), where the wealthy had all the power and kept the peasants down.
If you’re living in the time of Jesus, and you are one of the large number of people going out from Jerusalem and the Judean countryside, and walking or riding over the remote desert roads to find John in the wilderness and be baptized by him, you would of course be thinking about your ancestors who had wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, and who had passed through these very roads you were walking on. Furthermore, John was baptizing at the River Jordan. This was also highly symbolic. He didn’t pick a random creek or pond, but chose to baptize in the same river that the Hebrews had to cross in order to enter the Promised Land and gain their freedom.
The person who had led them across the Jordan was not Moses, because Moses had already died. If you remember, God had allowed Moses to look into the Promised Land from the top of Mount Nebo but not enter it. It was the successor to Moses—Joshua—who led them across the Jordan. Joshua, whose name in Hebrew—Yeshua—is the same as Jesus; a name that means “the LORD saves”. When John chose this setting, he was practically setting up a big flashing neon sign that said: “The new Joshua is coming to lead you out of the wilderness, across the Jordan, and into a new kind of Promised Land!”
And the way John was getting them ready for this new Joshua, whom we know as Jesus the Messiah, was by offering a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. This detail is the place where St. Mark first makes the point that people don’t need the Temple in order for God to be with them. Because the way the Temple was set up was the people would buy a sacrificial animal without blemish, the best they could afford—like a lamb or two turtledoves—and then the priests would sacrifice the animals on the people's behalf for the forgiveness of their sins.
John the Baptist, through all of his highly symbolic actions, was preaching a radical message! As the biblical scholar Ben Witherington III puts it [The Gospel of Mark: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary p. 72], John “seems to have been offering forgiveness without sacrifice being offered in the Temple. He was offering remission of sins without connection to the hierarchical system in Jerusalem. Is this why so many Jerusalemites came to check out John’s message?”
This is fascinating stuff I think, and it explains in part why many of the religious leaders in Jerusalem were so frequently opposed to Jesus, and even wanting to crucify him. But what does it have to do with us today? We live in the modern world. We have different religious traditions than the people back then. We’ve never been concerned about needing the priests in the Temple to sacrifice animals for the forgiveness of our sins. And we also have the benefit of not needing to wait for the Messiah to begin his ministry, because we put our faith in Jesus as our Messiah, who has already completed his work of teaching, and forgiveness, and salvation, by sacrificing himself once for all on the cross, and then being raised again.
We live in a world that in many ways is very different from the one in which John the baptizer appeared. But there is a similarity in that, like the people back then, we too are waiting. We are waiting for Jesus the Messiah to come again. We are waiting for him to establish his promised reign of peace in place of all of the violence and misery in the world. And as we wait, there are times when we very much might find ourselves “in the wilderness”.
Perhaps it is a wilderness brought about by sin—by the injustices, un-kindnesses, and cruelties that we see or experience; or by the harmful actions or decisions that we have made. Or perhaps it is a wilderness brought about by going through sickness, disease, or hospitalization—things that bring us face to face with mortality and human limitations; these are things that make us feel scared, lonely, isolated, or frustrated. Perhaps it is a spiritual wilderness, like your faith doesn’t seem to “work” the way it used to, or it seems like God is testing you. Perhaps it’s a wilderness that’s been set in motion from a job loss, or a family crisis, or when the world as you’ve known it seems to be shifting like an earthquake beneath your feet. There are all kinds of wildernesses out there. And I can guarantee that all of us at some point, unfortunately, will spend some time “in the wilderness” in our lives.
When you find yourself in the wilderness, there will be a voice crying out—only it won’t be the voice of John the Baptist. You may not hear the voice at first, but the voice will keep calling and calling until you are still enough to hear it—because the voice comes from the risen Jesus Christ himself, who is present to you in all times and places. He has already named you and claimed you as his own beloved child when you were baptized, and he’ll say to you: “Take comfort, my child. I am here with you. I am here for you. Turn to me and I will forgive you. God loves you, so hand your troubles over to me so that I can lead you through the wilderness, across the Jordan, and into the freedom of new life and salvation.” Amen.