Expecting Jesus: and a Way out of No Way

Advent 2 - Luke 3

For two whole verses of the six we hear from Luke this morning, Luke is establishing the time and the place, the sources of power—the reign of the emperor Tiberias, a governor over Judea, Herod over Galilee… priests in charge, Annas and Caiaphas…
and somehow, within and beyond all that, John son of Zechariah—Zechariah who in his old age had a child with Elizabeth, a child with unusual pre-birth stories—a child who jumped in his mother’s uterus at the appearance of Mary, pregnant with Jesus. A child whose father was silenced by Gabriel until the baby was born, until he confirmed that what Elizabeth said was true - the child would be named John – a name that was not a family name but a meaningful one: God has been gracious; God has shown favor.

ThisJohn is in the wilderness and it is there that he is baptizing and calling people to turn around into a new way of life—crying out as Isaiah cried out before him:

            In the wilderness, prepare a way so that everyone can be saved by God.

John, the forerunner of Jesus, the one that we usually call John the Baptist is doing so much more. He is baptizing, it’s true. But that’s not what shows who he is… 

In fact, John doesn’t really care if people understand who he is (although the people are really, really curious about that). All John cares about is the One to come.

Who is John? He’s just the voice crying out in the wilderness to prepare the way.

Who is John? The Messiah? A prophet? No, he describes himself as not even worthy to untie the shoes of the One who’s coming.

Who is John? He came as a witness to testify to the light coming into the world.

In the work all our preparations for Christmas—snow shoveling and lights hung up, tree selection and decorating, gift-selecting and wrapping, cookie baking and meal assembling… 

John’s voice calls, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. 5 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; 6 and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.'

Light flickers in the midst of the busy, filled days and the dark, weary nights—the light of Jesus who is already among us, but whose presence we can easily miss… Jesus, who calls, “Come and see.”

Come and see. Come and know me better. Come and take in the light, glowing and growing.

This week, I had the opportunity to be at a meeting at Redeemer Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, and while I was there, I saw a little ad for their annual Christmas store. I remembered how years ago, very early in our time in the Twin Cities, our family was invited by Pastor Kelly Chatman to come to Redeemer Lutheran Church’s annual Christmas Store. This event was created to give neighborhood children a way to buy presents for their families. Gifts are donated from congregations throughout the Twin Cities area and children can come to buy four gifts for a dollar. We were invited to bring our children with the gracious words that we might not need that kind of opportunity but please come.

Here are some great memories from that event—

Imagine a young teenage girl who took the microphone and began to sing a song from Mary, Mary:
I just can't give up now, I've come too far from where I started from…Nobody told me the road would be easy and I don't believe he brought me this far to leave me.

Then, there was the picking out of the gifts… “Elves” from the congregation took children to pick out their gifts, assuring them that there were still plenty of wonderful items left.

Others helped them wrap and tag the gifts and each child left like joyful little Santas, with a bag of presents to share. 

This display of abundance, where everyone had the chance to enjoy music, eat lunch, take gifts home was a little glimpse of how the light of Christ can make us a beacon of hope for our neighbors. 

We use light as a metaphor because of the way a very small candle can illumine a very dark space, because of the way one candle can light another candle and the light from the first becomes no less. We use light because in both the ancient world where the scriptures were created and in large parts of our modern world light brings a sense of safety, warmth and community.

It reminds me of this prayer that comes from the Easter vigil, the prayer said as we light the Christ candle, “We sing the glories of this pillar of fire, the brightness of which is not diminished even when its light is divided and borrowed.”

What a contrast to another, louder message we hear in ads and shopping pages and even in our own minds and hearts throughout this whole season of getting ready for Christmas—the message that what we have done and what we’re able to do, from gifts to nuts, is probably not quite enough. That we must guard our little corner of the civilization and keep others out. That we must keep our focus on ourselves and our loved ones.

The message of John the Baptist, proclaiming Jesus in the wilderness among us, is exactly the opposite. This is the one who makes a way for all. This is the one who shows God provides plenty even amidst scarcity. This is the one who is preparing a place for us, but not just for us… a place where we can experience Christ’s love and peace and joy.

This week, we light another candle. The light visibly grows and grows throughout the deepening darkness of this season. May this be how it is among and inside us… as we prepare a way, as Christ makes a path home for all. For there is One who is in and around us and who will show up in the most unexpected of places—in the busy filled days, in the dark weary nights, in all joy and in pain too, giving hope—Jesus, the savior of the world.