Mark 1:1-8
It was a hot and humid Texas summer day, we were visiting
my in-laws in Houston in the middle of June and happily enjoying their lovely
swimming pool. This was some years ago and at the time I had been trying to
teach my son how to swim for quite a while. We had done swim lessons at the
YMCA when he was young and spent countless hours in swimming pools with me
repeating various things to him about paddling, pushing off, closing your mouth
and kicking. It wasn’t getting us anywhere. So he got into the shallow end,
prepared to bob around, but then his grandpa, my father-in-law got into the
pool. My father-in-law is a big presence. He carries himself with a certain
amount of authority, he has a long beard and a long ponytail, he towers over
the kids and he has a deep, booming voice. He stood next to my son and watched
him as he paddled with his feet on the pool floor. In the quiet of the back
yard he started shouting “kick!” in his deep and thundering voice. It was
striking and I think all of us, wherever we were, started kicking … including
my son … and that was when he learned to swim.
The voice of his mom that he hears all the time saying the
same things was no match for the internal voice that told him he couldn’t do
it. The voice that says “this is too hard” “you will sink” “what if it doesn’t
work” “you can’t do it.” All of those messages that were preventing him from
jumping into the water and trusting, letting the waters enfold him and carry
him. His internal voices of doubt blocked his ability trust. But here was a new
voice, from someone different and it was somehow able to cut through all the
others and change his mind. And then … he swam … and now he is always the last
one to get out of the pool because he loves swimming.
Sometimes we need a new voice to wake us up and change our
minds. In the Gospel, that voice is John the Baptist. The description we get of
him (guy in the wilderness, wearing camel’s hair and a leather belt, eating
locusts and wild honey) tells us he was different, he was a presence. And he
speaks with authority and confidence- out there shouting in the wilderness
about repentance and the one who is coming. This is a different voice than
people are used to. And it seems he was one who was able to cut through the
usual chatter and be heard. Because the people came and he attracted a lot of
attention. And we are told by Mark that he is the one referred to in the
scripture by Isaiah, so he comes with authority.
Many Biblical scholars agree that the word repentance is a
bit tricky to translate as the Hebrew word means something along the lines of
“turn back” or “convert” and the Greek word means something like “change one’s
mind.”[1] So we may understand
John’s message as a call for people to change their minds and in doing so make
a way for the Lord, or clear a path for the one who is coming. Any
understanding of the word repentance shows that it is an act done on the part
of the one repenting, not the one they are repenting too. In other words, we
are called to repent or change our minds, we aren’t asking God to change God’s
mind- to stop disliking us or see us in a new light, but rather we are the ones
doing the changing because God is there, God’s love is there ready and waiting,
it is us, the repentant who need to make a path for it.
This is Mark’s Christmas story. There is no manger, no
baby, no gifts or star. Mark is in a hurry, he gets right to it and begins the
story when Jesus is grown and his ministry is about to begin. Advent in the
Gospel of Mark then is that journey into the wilderness, the listening for that
voice in the wilderness and finding the courage to plunge into the waters of
baptism John speaks of. It is a call for us to change our minds and make a path
for the one who is to come.
Last Sunday I sat here in the pews by myself and I was
feeling very tired. I was recovering from covid and my head felt heavy. I spent
the morning figuring out what to do with my sick child and then going to
worship, leading youth group and helping set up a craft for the festival. I
felt physically exhausted but also mentally exhausted from an ever-growing list
of “to-do’s” that includes packing up our entire house for a cross country move
that is fast approaching. I also felt emotionally exhausted from the weight of
saying goodbye to so many people I love and care about and will miss deeply.
The emotional weight of so many “last times.” It also just didn’t feel like
Advent. Our house barely has any decorations between stacks of boxes, sickness
had cancelled any plans of fun and nothing felt as fun or joyful without the
presence of my youngest son who was home sick. And then I heard an unfamiliar
voice- one full of confidence, authority and presence. It was Olivia’s solo.
Olivia, the one who used to make me smile as I watched her walk into church
alongside her family with her neat braids and adorable little red coat. Her
voice came from her heart and filled this vast space. And I felt the presence
of Christ in this place, my mind had changed from the exhaustion and sadness and
a path was made into my heart for the coming Savior. It was a new voice,
cutting through the anxious chatter in my head and my heart heard it.
And all I could feel was gratitude. Gratitude for the many
times I have been snapped out of the weariness of this world and called to the
hope and peace of Christ. Gratitude for the many times the Holy Spirit has
shown up in my heart, in this place, with all of you.
I felt gratitude for my fellow readers in the women’s book
group, who have many times calmed my fears by sharing from their wisdom and
letting me benefit from their life experience. Gratitude for the many friends I
have made here, people who have opened their hearts to me, laughed with me and
modeled vulnerability and genuine sharing. Gratitude for all the people who
have let me stand by their hospital bed or in their homes when they were
homebound and be with them for that part of their journey, hearing their
stories, crying with them, praying with them and together making a path for
Christ to come. Gratitude for the teens and young people I have gotten to work
with. For the many ways they have made me crack up and pushed me to go deep
with their questions. For the times when I came with low energy, negativity and
out of ideas but then soon caught their energy, enthusiasm and hope and found
that my mind was changed and everything just seemed brighter. I will always be
grateful for the ways they let me into their lives by sharing so honestly and
without any pretenses. Gratitude for all the invitations to performances I
received and getting to see the young people live out their gifts and talents
so bravely for the world. Gratitude for the baptisms we have all participated
in together, when the water of the baptismal font was poured on the heads of
new Christians and then sprinkled on our clothes, when it penetrated our hearts
and made its way down our cheeks. Gratitude for our ability to make community
during pandemic lockdowns, when we found a way to safely worship together under
the abundant Colorado sunshine, that first Alleluia we sang together on Easter
when we were told it was safe to sing again. Gratitude for the way in which the
cosmic nature of the Eucharistic feast was made evident and visible as we knelt
together on All Saints, holding white carnations that told our stories of loss
but made tangible the presence of the many who are present with us in a
different way. Gratitude for seeing my own children live out their baptismal
calling through singing in the choir, acolyting, ushering, reading the
Scripture and participating in the life of this parish. And gratitude that is
too difficult to put into words for the love I have felt here, the genuine
acceptance and care.
Gratitude
for all the many times when somehow my frantic and stubborn mind has been
changed, the Holy Spirit has found a way to break in, to make a path for the
Lord and my heart was flooded with Christ’s love.
And gratitude for what God has in store for us. Even though
the future is uncertain- for you, for the church, for me, for the world but God
is here. God is ready for us. God is present, calling us to repent, to change
our minds and make a path for Christ to come and enter our hearts, our
community, our world so that we can dive into the waters, the cleansing waters
John is calling us to, and we can trust and swim and say Emmanuel …. God with
us.
