The Second Sunday in Advent: 2014
A voice crying in the wilderness
We like our preachers attired properly, a good
haircut and with proper table manners. “Clothed with camel’s hair and eating
locusts and wild honey” probably wouldn’t cut it. John the Baptist is
weird, uncouth, unkempt, bizarre, terrible and strange to us, although
probably not to his contemporaries. Throughout most of the history of religion
the expectation was that holy men could be recognized by their smell,
having better things to do than worry
about frequent bathing. Cleanliness was
in fact not next to godliness.
In the Gospel the Greek word translated as
‘wilderness’ can also be translated as’
desert’. It means desolate, wasteland, uncultivated, unpopulated, abandoned. It
is a fundamental word in the biblical vocabulary:
Abraham is told by the Lord to leave the safety
and familiarity of the city and go to a land which God shall show him. Moses
flees into the wilderness to avoid a murder charge. The Israelites wander forty
years in the desert. Elijah hid in the wilderness for his life because he had
dared to challenge the apostasy of Israel. And of course before Jesus begins
his ministry he goes into the wilderness to be tempted of Satan.
However strange ‘the voice crying in the
wilderness’ may be, that is something we should be able yo understand. Wilderness,
desert – these terms also apply to the contemporary situation in which
Christians find themselves.
Even if it is harder and harder to find physical
wilderness, more than ever this world is a spiritual wilderness. The religious landscape has turned into a
vast, sprawling desert, where men can scarcely hear the cry "Prepare the
way of the Lord." This "voice" echoes in the midst of the
swirling cacophony of the mass media, sandwiched between the news items that
tumble over each other. In such a world,
theology can make headlines only if it involves itself in politics or exhorts
people to social change. The Baptist would have a much harder time of it today
than two millennia ago, when people came out to him, confessed their sins, and
were prepared to believe him when he said that someone greater than him would
follow, someone for whom one should prepare himself.
In this context many Christians long for
success, wish that the good old days were here again, when all men gave at
least nodding assent to the verities of the Christian Faith, when the Gospel
was the at least theoretically the moral measure, when it was hard not to run
up against Jesus and his commandments, even if he and his teaching were honored
more in the breach than in the observance. But what if we are called to be ‘the voice crying in
the wilderness’.
First of all we can expect little in the way of
success. St. John the Baptist was a miserable failure after apparent success.
He who once drew crowds in the end lost his head on a whim of the powerful. He
said “He must increase, I must decrease”. A noble sentiment but it is exactly
what happened.
Whether we like it or not, we are wilderness
people – ., who else has God got to do his work if it isn’t those who say they
believe in him? – we wilderness people don’t get people to believe in us: we
point away to the one who is greater than us.
Secondly, we cannot dress up the Christian Faith
somehow to make it more attractive. The way John dressed was not nearly as
terrible as what he preached. He came as the censor of men, telling them
plainly the truth about themselves, not by soft inducements but by the harsh
lash of his words.
Certainly John’s word is not last word; John
binds that Jesus may loose. But Jesus takes up where John leaves off: repent
for the kingdom of God is near. If we do not talk about sin, then we have no
business talking about Jesus.
The wilderness is a dangerous place, the place
where Israel rebelled against God, reverted to idolatry and longed to undo
God’s redemption and return to slavery in Egypt. It is the frontline of
spiritual combat against the world, the flesh and the devil, the place of
temptation, the place where faith is easily lost. But it is also the place where God richly
manifests his presence: the unlimited Lord shows himself most fully in the
limited, useless bareness of the desert.
The full passage from Isaiah which John quotes
makes this clear: there is a kind of topography of salvation” the city
Jerusalem, the wilderness, the high mountain. We like the Jews are exiles but
God calls us home, only we cannot come home until we pass through the desert,
we cannot reach the holy mountain without making straight the paths in the
desert, the desert of failure, of repentance and of testing.
A voice crying in the wilderness
1 comment:
"He came as the censor of men" -- I love that and the whole thing.
Thanks.
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