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December 4, 2011 - Advent 2
Mark 1:1-8;
Luke 3:1-14
Reclaiming Repentance
(Read Mark 1:1-8; Luke 3:7-14)
One day a man on horseback came riding,
at a fast pace, into a frontier town of the old west.
As he rode through town, he
yelled out, "Big Jake is coming! Big Jake is coming! Big Jake is
coming!"
The townspeople were
terrified. They scattered and
ran into their homes; slammed and bolted their doors; closed up their
windows; children were sent to hide under their beds.
In the saloon the bartender was boarding up his windows when all of
a sudden his heart almost stopped. The biggest man he had ever seen was
walking in the direction of his saloon. The man was gargantuan.
He had fierce eyes, a black
beard, strips of bullets draped across his chest, and strapped to his
legs were two huge holsters holding two sawed-off shotguns. He was dressed in black, from head to toe, and he looked mean and
intimidating.
Finally, the huge man walked through the swinging doors of the
saloon and stepped up to the bar,
He slammed his fist on the bar and growled, "Give me drink
of whiskey, and make it quick!"
Trembling, the bartender obeyed, and with hands shaking he
handed him the glass of whiskey. The man gulped it down in one huge
swallow. The bartender stuttered,
"W-w-would you like another drink?"
The man said, "No way!
I’m out of here!
Haven’t you heard, Big Jake is
coming!"
Every year about this time, the second Sunday of Advent,
John the Baptist
comes riding into town. And at least on the surface of things, he is
often portrayed as a rather
daunting and fearful figure – one that strikes terror into people’s
souls. The gospels tell us
he was dressed in camel’s hair clothes, existed on a subsistence diet of
honey glazed locusts with a huge leather belt fixed around his waist.
Matthew and Luke especially, in their versions of John the
Baptist, tell us that his message was confrontational and rather
intense.
But before we board up our
windows, lock our doors and
hide under our beds, let’s briefly unpack the role that John
plays in the gospels and explore his meaning and message for the early
faith community and perhaps
for us.
There are three things
that can increase our understanding:
First, the Jewish
faith community expected that the messiah was coming.
Mark begins his gospel with the verse,
“The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ…”
“Christ” is from the
Greek word “christos”, which
translates the Hebrew word for
“messiah.” Writing some
3 ½ decades after Jesus, the first thing Mark affirms is, that for his
faith community, the identification of Jesus as that Messiah.
Second, there was
also a popular belief in Judaism that the former prophet Elijah would
return and play an introductory and preparatory role for the coming
messiah. We read in the OT
book of 2 Kings that Elijah was a hairy man who wore a huge leather belt
around his waist.
The point is that Mark, and
the other gospel writers, cast John the Baptist in the role of Elijah who was expected to
announce the arriving messiah.
Third, all four of
the gospels quote the prophet
Isaiah in connection with John’s preparatory role.
These verses from Isaiah were read as our first reading this
morning. Isaiah wrote those
words in the 6th century BCE to the Israelites exiled in
Babylon. It was part of a
larger message that the Israelites would return home from exile, but
they would return home in a siciety characterized by
social justice.
References to valley’s being lifted up, mountains and hills being made
low and uneven ground leveled are
metaphors for the divine desire that social justice and fairness
characterize life in the land - which was a
primary message of many of
the prophets.
So, the stage is set. John
arrives, cast in the role of Elijah announcing the coming messiah who
the early faith community was identified as Jesus.
But who was John really? The
gospels do not say he was Elijah
literally, but cast him in that role to assert the messiah-ship of
Jesus. John was certainly
out there, outside of orthodox and institutionalized religion.
He was a Jewish mystic and social
prophet, who lived off the land and traveled the countryside preaching a
impassioned message that
challenged people to change. He
preached a message of repentance. But
what is repentance? We need to
pause right here because I think we might have some misplaced
notions about repentance. Repentance is one of the most misunderstood
words in our faith, and I want to
reclaim the word and place it in a positive context.
I think we often see John as a
daunting figure because of
our misconceptions about repentance.
It has been my experience, growing up in a Lutheran context, that
repentance has been understood and practiced in primarily
two ways:
For some, it is a kind of
self-disparagement confessing lack of worth and moral depravity, and
in many Lutheran circles it has been elevated to an art form. The other
functional definition of repentance I have experienced is that
repentance is seen as a kind of ritualized and rehearsed "I'm
sorry."
It's analogous to something that happened to me at a big box
store in Denver. I was walking around the end of an aisle when two young
children came racing and screaming around the corner and crashed
into me. No harm done. But their
mother, who was pushing a cart not far behind, became upset with
her children. She stopped
them in their tracks and said,
"What do you say to the man?"
The children got a rather perplexed look on their faces as if
they were thinking, ("What
are you talking about Mom? Whatever did we do?")
Mother firmly held her ground and
sternly repeated, "What do you
say to the man?" It
was then their facial expressions changed, as if a light bulb went on,
and they were thinking,
("Oh yes, we get it! We know this routine. We screwed up and we are
supposed to say,")
and then out
came the audible words "We're sorry mister." And then, in the
blink of an eye, off the children went racing and screaming
down the aisle! I wonder how
many more times that scenario repeated itself that day.
What I have observed is that these two kinds of so-called
repentance often make little real
difference. They don't lead to any
real transformation.
Negative
self-disparagement rarely leads to positive transformation, it
only makes one feel worse about oneself.
And a polite, ritualized "I'm
sorry" is an easy way to
appease one's conscience,
maintain the status quo and
move on with life with nothing substantially changed.
A friend of mine likes to say,
"Heck, even Al Capone was in church on Sundays to receive the forgiveness of
his sins."
But there is a totally different biblical picture of
repentance. It is not
repentance as a negative self-disparaging ritual I perform, but rather a
positive affirming life to be
lived. The word
“repentance” literally means is "to turn around”; to move a
new direction"; or "to adopt a new mind-set."
The apostle Paul
challenged the faith community in Philippi this way, and I quote:
“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”
That is a picture of repentance; to turn and adopt live by
the mind-set of Jesus.
Mark says that great crowds came out to see and hear John, from the
“whole Judean countryside and from
Jerusalem.”
In Luke’s expanded version of the story, John speaks to specific
elements in the crowd. In Luke’s version, voices in the crowd,
responding to John’s message, specifically ask,
"What then shall we
do?" You see, that's
the language of transformation; that's the language of change;
that's the language of new direction;
that's the first step towards
a new mind-set.
To the
crowds Luke tells
us that John essentially said, turn your life around even to the point
of getting personally involved with another: "If you have two
coats, share one with someone who has none."
To the tax
collectors who
represented a corrupt and unjust system of collaboration between
religious and political authority, he essentially said, turn your life
around and play fairly and honestly.
To the
soldiers who
represented Roman authority, he essentially said, turn you life around
and, in contrast to the Kingdom of Caesar that misused power as leverage,
live by the ways of the kingdom of God that uses power and authority to
lift people up.
In the final analysis, the gospels portray John the Baptist as a Master
of Ceremonies introducing the one coming after him - Jesus - the one who
embodies the Kingdom of God - whose very life reflects the love and
grace of God.
I have always been intrigued by Jesus' invitations to “follow” him in
the gospels. He pretty much just says, "Follow me." He doesn't
say, "believe thus and such doctrine, and then come and follow me." He
doesn't say, "Clean up your moral act and then come and follow me."
He doesn't say "join the right
political party and then come follow me." He simply says,
"Follow me."
To "follow “Jesus, is to "repent" in the most
positive sense of its meaning, because following Jesus
requires a turning and moving a new direction and adopting his
mindset. And of course the
question is, "Where does Jesus
lead?" It has been my
personal experience and my conviction that Jesus leads me
ever more deeply, everyday, into new expressions and new
dimensions and new experiences of God's boundless
grace and love. It has also been my experience that the more I follow
the more I see how life in Jesus transcends everything political and
religious I have ever known.
In the last few years especially, I have lived within an uncomfortable
tension; two forces each tugging at me often from different directions.
It's the tension created
between institutionalized
religion, and the direction
it pulls me -- and Jesus, and the
direction he leads me.
Like any institution, institutionalized religion's greatest desire is to protect
itself, and it usually does what it needs to do to survive, and it
eventually turns inward.
Jesus' greatest desire with every breath he drew and every step
he took was to give himself totally away in love-characterized by
the cross that stands before us.
Institutionalized religion,
by its very nature, can foster divisions and conflicting camps. It
separates the world into true believers and heretics; the clean from the
unclean, the acceptable from the unacceptable, in the in-group from the
left-behind, the good from the bad. But yet when I follow Jesus, I
experience him crossing over and transcending every religious,
political, social and economic boundary of his time in order to embrace
the humanity living beyond.
Institutionalized religion
almost always ends up placing a copyright on grace as it seeks to
exert control over grace by making itself its only mediator; and
it only distributes grace under conditions of strict control. And then I
follow Jesus, and I experience him loving lavishly and spreading grace
around excessively, especially to
those people and places that religion has excluded.
Jesus freed himself from the constraints of religion and politics to
explore, embody and live his life with grace beyond restraint. It's
along that road that Jesus invites us to follow - one step at a
time – one day at a time!
I think the first steps of
following are the hardest because there are so many things in my
heart and in my head and in culture that would hold me back.
And, if I waited for my heart to
feel good and my head to be convinced, I would never take the first
step. So it's right then and there, at the beginning of the road,
that faith takes the shape of my feet. Even
though my head and my heart can be reluctant, I can trust with my
feet, and in spite of my unsure head and my fearful heart
and a culture that would hold me back, I can “turn around” take the
first step and begin to follow Jesus on this road of amazing grace;
just one small step at a
time, because small steps, especially at the beginning, are the biggest
steps I can possibly take.
But somewhere along the way of following, I will discover to my joy that
my heart and my head are catching up with my feet, and that the mind-set
of Jesus is becoming a part of my own,
and that the grace of God is being set free in this world again;
only this time taking the shape of my life. And if enough of us together
move our feet in the direction that Jesus leads, we become his living
communal body in the world; his virtual hands and feet on fire with
God's love, joining him in God's work of grace. And that gives me hope that we never need become an institution that imprisons and restricts the grace of God, but a living community that sets God's grace free - with many little steps at a time - and by joining together, maybe eventually even some big leaps! Amen. |