Day 1 of 4: Mark
The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,’” John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” -Mark 1:1-8 (NRSV)
It’s curious, isn’t it, that unlike every other gospel in the Christian canon, Mark starts like this. There’s no scandal of Mary and Joseph pregnant outside of wedlock here. There’s no journey of Joseph and Mary across the country to the scene of the manger here. There’s no reminder, here, of the creation of all things, rooting Christ in the Creator’s careful crafting of the cosmos. For Mark, it’s almost as if the importance of Jesus’ birth doesn’t matter. What do we do with Mark when it comes to the Christmas season? What does Mark’s Gospel bring to the Christmas table? Mark brings a smelly, hairy, dirty, homeless man, draped with camel’s hair.
John the Baptizer is one we can rightfully refer to as a holy mess. He certainly doesn’t fit into the shiny ceramic, nostalgically warm, peppermint-scented images that might come to mind when we think about Christmas these days. John represents the flip side of that. He enters abruptly, stumbling across our tidy, well-swept threshold. He belches, snorts his sinuses and then imposingly asks where our bathroom is. John is an interruption. He’s a problem. He lives outside the gates of the community, somewhere deep in the wilderness, and he brings all that in here.
But John has a voice. He has something vital to say—something he means to share, which he is certain is good for all of creation. His prophetic call is his bright and shining Christmas gift. And, it turns out, it is the most critical message we can hear if we really want to know what Christmas means. Mark is so sure about John’s message that he grounds it in the prophetic authority of Isaiah. It’s a message of both urgency and certainty. It’s a message with vision and challenge. It’s a message that bears the effects of a shifting landscape as the world-as-it-is readies itself for an intersection with the world-as-it-should-be.
And what is John’s message? It’s a message about preparing a way for the Lord’s entrance. That preparation involves a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins in the Jordan river. Now, you may remember that in the Old Testament the Jordan river was the boundary the Hebrew people crossed from their own wilderness wanderings into the land of promise. Generations later, that crossing still held significance for them. The crossing of the Jordan meant a change in the ancestors’ identity. As the ancient Hebrews crossed the Jordan they moved from a caravan of loosely associated tribes, with no homeland, to a people with a land on which they could settle. And though their presence caused problems among themselves and with other people groups around them, settling on the other side of the Jordan gave them a home.
John’s prophetic call back to that vital boundary was no mistake. In his time, Rome had conquered the known world and was occupying the land. The religious institution had become corrupt and was co-opting the teachings of God to create a caste system of elites and marginalized. And the few attempts at rising up to push back on the occupiers and the corruption were quickly squashed. The identity of the people had become confused and muddled. There was a common hunger for clarity. There was a shared need to take a look back, to remember, to recollect. And what better place to do that than the very waters the ancestors passed through themselves, as their hopes were set high on their new land of promise?
So what does all this have to do with Christmas, again? Everything. If Christmas came without any preparation, where would we be? If we didn’t move some things around, if we didn’t put some things in new places in order for the inspiring things to take their place, what would Christmas look like? It would be a jumbled mess.
The prophetic voice of John deserves our immediate attention as we begin to get ready for Christmas, because he is calling us to get ourselves in the right place within. Haven’t we run into some crooked paths? Isn’t our identity in need of repair—both as individuals and as a gathered community (not to mention as a country and as a world)? John the Baptizer is the very voice we need to hear, the one the spirits within us thirst and hunger for. Before we can even imagine the presence of Jesus being born anew among us (Emmanuel!), we’ve got some preparing to do. There’s some shifting that needs to take place. There are some things that need to be packed up and put away, some elements of our common realities that need adjusting; some crooked paths we need to work on straightening, some valleys that need to be uplifted and some high places that need to be brought low.
“Prepare the way,” sings John. As his voice carries above the hubbub, his message inspires. “Repent! Repent! Repent and take a deep plunge into the waters of God’s gracious intention for the world crafted in Divine hands.” Christmas is coming. The Lord is moving in our direction. What do we need to do to be ready to better receive him? How will the faithful prepare?
Reflection Questions
When you read about John’s call, when you consider that his message was directed to members of the religious faithful to “prepare the way” by repenting and submitting to baptism in the Jordan, what new insights emerge for you? How does his call, and how do your thoughts about his call, fit with the season of Advent?
How does Mark’s presentation of John the Baptist challenge your views or practices of hospitality? What might hospitality have to do with the Christmas story?
Before Jesus steps into the spotlight, it’s clear that John the Baptist is an important figure in the culture of his time. How does John handle his growing importance and wider reaching influence?
If you were alive in this time, how would you imagine yourself thinking about/ processing all that John was proclaiming and doing?
What “paths” do you see as crooked within yourself, in Christian institutions, or in the world around you? If we were to work together to make the Grace and Love of Jesus Christ to be more easily seen and understood, what would “making the path straight” look like?
What other questions or thoughts arise for you from this scripture?
A closing prayer: Holy God, Lord Jesus, Guiding Spirit, you are a maker of ways. When humanity gets stuck, when we turn in on ourselves and when we count ourselves exempt from your presence, you reach out your powerful hand. There is always a way with you, even when there seems to be none. Keep us open to whichever way you might meet us where we are. Whether it is in the striking beauty of the rising new day sun or in the unexpected stranger, keep the eyes of our faith open. May we be found welcoming to your creative and sometimes mysterious ways. And may we be inspired by the call of your prophet, John the Baptist, to participate in works of hospitality, compassion and an ever more equitable justice that would clear the way for the presence of Jesus to enter in. Forgive us, God, for our sins. And wash us afresh in your ways of faith. In the name of your son Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, AMEN.