Trinity Church; The Rev. Shelby
Owen
Advent 2: December 6, 2009
Luke 3:1-6
And the word of God came to
John in the wilderness.
The wilderness. That seems to be a popular place in Scripture for God’s people
to meet him. If we go back over a thousand years from this story we
recall the Exodus when the Israelites leave Egypt as freed slaves. While they
cross the desert they have multiple encounters with God. Throughout
Scripture the wilderness seems to be a place of formation for God’s covenant
people and the wilderness seems to imply a return to God. And it is in
the wilderness that we find ourselves in today’s gospel reading-with John the
Baptist, and I am not so sure I am 100% comfortable with this edgy man of God
in the desert. He is very busy and he is making me a little bit nervous!
This feisty prophet is busy boldly proclaiming the truth, boldly proclaiming a
baptism of repentance, boldly preparing the people of God for the coming of the
Lord, for the coming of the instrument of our salvation, Jesus.
[optional: As an amateur icon enthusiast, where I rarely recognize the people
portrayed except Jesus or the mother Mary, I am always a bit excited when there
is an icon that includes John the Baptist; even in a stylized icon JtB is
fairly easy to recognize- usually has wild hair, bare feet, often wearing
animal fur. His features exude a message of one who is full of divine fire,
ready to proclaim boldly God’s word, one who has NO concern for appearances or
protocol- only the truth, come what may] Gathering information from ancient
icons and the various gospel accounts, it is easy to picture a man who is very
certain of his identity, certain of his faith, certain of his mission.
This prophet is not afraid to cry out in the wilderness, “Prepare the way of
the Lord!” Luke has drawn from the ancient Scripture of Isaiah a passage to
show that prophecy is fulfilled in the coming of Jesus:
"The voice of one crying out
in the wilderness:
'Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his
paths straight.
Every valley shall be filled,
and every
mountain and hill shall be made low,
and the crooked shall be made
straight,
and the
rough ways made smooth;
and all flesh shall see the
salvation of God.'"
This word of God came to John in the wilderness. But why the wilderness?
This word of hope, of ecstasy really, that all flesh shall see the salvation of
God? That all hills and mountains will be leveled, that all valleys will be
filled in, that every path will be made straight and the rough ways
smooth? How can these words that are so rich come out of a place, the
wilderness, a place associated with danger, with fear, with emptiness?
From their book “Season of the Spirit” Sally Coleman and Maria Porter write
that “In the East, an empty rice bowl is a symbol of prosperity. Asians see it
as a gift. A full rice bowl is of no further use because we can no longer
choose what goes into it. In the East, emptiness is valued far more than
fullness. In the simplicity of emptiness lies potentially everything-but
especially peace and tranquility.” Now I don’t want to glamorize
material poverty; there is no doubt that true material poverty is a tragic and
egregious state, but here I think we are talking about an emptiness in the
soul, a special space within all human beings that cannot actually be filled
with anything. Cannot be filled with anything-except God’s spirit.
And when we experience this wilderness of sorts, this emptiness, this eternal longing,
when we feel this loneliness or poverty of spirit we may sense danger, we may
feel a dis-ease, we may even feel fear. In the West, esp. here in the
U.S. we are not so sure emptiness is such a good thing. Confronting the
emptiness in ourselves can make us nervous and anxious. Sometimes silence
reminds us of this emptiness. We are confronted with messages at this
time of year that we need to “have it all”- to fill up our lives with noise,
with material possessions, with extra food. When we feel this emptiness
in our souls we sometimes attempt (and I underline “attempt”) to fill it with
many things-maybe with alcohol or other drugs, with unhealthy relationships,
with spending money we don’t have, with frenetic activity, with excess excess.
We may experience an emptiness even when all around us seems pleasant and good,
such as when our loved ones are with us around the dinner table and food is
abundant; we can experience a wilderness when some particular aspect of our
lives brings us up short, such as a fracture in a relationship or perhaps
in something more vague such as feeling no purpose to the busyness in our
lives. And yet, it is in this place of emptiness where we can encounter
God. And because God dwells there we find riches in the wilderness.
The word of God came to John the Baptist in the wilderness; John in his edgy
way was open to that space within himself that let God in that his word might
be manifest, that he in turn might draw others toward a life-giving relationship
with God. If we can embrace the wilderness the way John the B. did, we
may find that God dwells there with us offering us salvation, offering us his
word of comfort or inspiration that draws us ever closer to him.
A few weeks
ago in the children’s moment our children reminded us that our hands are empty
when we come to the communion rail each week. It is with empty hands that we
can receive the bread of heaven, the body of Christ. It is with
outstretched, empty hands that we may recognize our need for God. It is
with empty hands we receive the abundance of all that God has for us. As
with the empty rice bowl being seen as a symbol of prosperity, we may see our
empty hands, too, as a symbol of our spiritual prosperity. Can our empty hands
and the wilderness we may experience in our souls be the reminder that we have
a God who actually created this empty place within, the place where God WANTS
to dwell?
As we embrace the wilderness in our lives we actually prepare a place for God;
to prepare the way of the Lord is to remove the obstacles that have filled the
space that is only intended for God. So rather than succumb to the
temptation to fill our lives with random busyness or other things that do not
satisfy us with any depth, when we confront that wilderness during this Advent
season, as we await his coming, let us pray, “Welcome, Lord Jesus, reside with
me and show me the way.”
Amen.