By Mary Davis, Seminarian InternMatthew 3:1-12
Today's Gospel reading introduces us to the very familiar biblical character of John the Baptist. We meet him every year in Advent, since all 4 Gospels unanimously proclaim John as the official herald to the Messiah, the prophet for whom the prophets foretold would "Prepare the way of the Lord."
But what does this edgy, rough-and-tumble prophet have to say to us today? What is his message for us here, at St. George's, thousands of years later and thousands of miles from the wilderness path about which he spoke? This question made me want to dig for more about John the Baptist, but it also led me to wonder what John the Baptist might look like here, in our context, today. So, imagine with me, if you will, that standing just outside these doors is John the Baptist. Let's go meet him.
John certainly doesn't look like us. He's rough around the edges, just as you might imagine an ascetic from the desert might look (and smell!), but just the same, he is the first bona fide, genuine voice of God that we've heard in years. Hordes of people can't help themselves but flock to him, and we are no exception. But it's kind of like coming upon the scene of an accident, some slow down and look, while others move out of the way. For the words he uses are beyond frank, in fact they're downright scary. Who talks like this today? Says things like "flee from the wrath to come" (3:7) which was in our Gospel reading today, and describes our beloved and tame 21st century Jesus as holding a "winnowing fork" which will separate the wheat from the chaff to be burned "with unquenchable fire?" (7:12) John's words, appearance and smell make me, personally, want to walk a little faster, and not hang around for his message. I consider running to the other side of the street, in an attempt to avoid John's odd behavior and powerfully challenging words. But my curiosity plants my feet firmly in front of him.
Although John's method and message pose danger to him physically, the danger he knowingly faces doesn't seem to altar his message any. His message to us, on this day, is quite clear. He wants us to Repent. "Repent!" he yells, and we all take a step backward. I look around at all the other people, and act as if he were speaking to them, not me. It's hard to look at him, but harder yet, to listen to him. He's surprised at finding us today, so concerned with Christmas gifts, decorating and entertaining and this only serves as fuel for his repeated cries, "Repent!" As I begin to think about my own list-making, my gift-giving, and my entertaining priorities in this busy Advent season, I realize John's calls to repent are aimed at me. My Advent bears little resemblance to John's other cry, "bear fruit worthy of repentance." (3:8)
Some of the people respond, "But it's so easy to be swept up in this gift-giving and gift-receiving frenzy," while some other brave soul acknowledges our temptation to welcome only those whom affirm and love us to our holiday gatherings. Out loud, I wonder, "Perhaps we do have something to repent, but can't we participate in the secular Christmas and still find the Messiah?"
John continues on, undaunted by our skeptical tone and says, "You invite and welcome carefully chosen friends and family to your table this time of the year, but I wonder how many of you are aware of those who are hidden in the peripheries of pews here? Or equally important, have you considered those who are sporadic in their attendance here? Have you thought about who is not here at all, and why? These people, including the ones in your own families, who make you want to metaphorically "run to the other side of the street," are my fellow prophets who often have the most interesting stories to tell and are important voices to hear. They challenge your notions of harmony and peace the most, but also reveal to us a different face of God. Repent that you want to "run across the street." "Repent, and turn to face them," John the Baptist continues. "Your call this Advent is to be peacemakers of the Kingdom and open your hearts and lives to those who challenge you. It's just one more way to "Make the path straight" before being able to embrace our Messiah who comes soon!"
Finally, exasperated by our questioning looks, the Prophet lifts his hands high to the heavens, "We have Abraham as our ancestor (3:9), nothing is impossible for our God. Repent (3:2) - turn back to God, again and again, and again and again, because in order to greet Jesus on Christmas Day this year, you must first turn around and face the messiness in your lives; the messiness which is found in those whose faces are different, who ruffle our outer as well as our inner feathers. Only then can we find the Messiah who promises to baptize us with the Holy Spirit and with fire!
With that, John finishes his teaching, and turns to walk to the other side of the street, approaching those who really did cross over.
So ends our imaginary encounter with this rogue prophet. I understand his message because honestly, there's not much mystery to his words in this Gospel. But this doesn't make it any easier to hear or to follow John's message. And in case you're thinking that the only way we can encounter "John the Baptist" is through our imagination, think again, because, I bumped into my "own" John the Baptist just last month at Drew University. He (John) was a she, in the form of a classmate of mine in my Wednesday class this semester. This class always begins with a few minutes of sharing time. The Professor opens with the question, "how is it with your soul?" And one by one, my classmates share about their weeks, both spiritually and personally.
On one particular week, I was struggling with life at home and the weight of mothering my children with little to no respite help. The weight of my son's unclear future also added to my burden. After sharing this piece of my soul, a woman in the class pointed her finger at me and said, "the reason no one has come to your side to offer help is because of your judgmental nature." My jaw was on the ground. I was impaled, and I found no words for response. Her words haunted me for weeks. I cried because of them and then wrestled with them. I asked myself and others, "Who talks like this today?" "Who really says things like this?!"
Then a few weeks later, our professor opened class again, with the same question, "how is it with your soul?" This time, a different woman shared her present situation. She was confused and conflicted by her roots in the Baptist Church which damned her for questioning her sexual identity. She carefully described her pain, using the words from King David's lament in Psalm 31, "Be kind to me God - I'm in deep, deep trouble again. I've cried my eyes out; I feel hollow inside. My life leaks away, groan by groan; my years fade out in sighs. My troubles have worn me out." Her pain was palpable and her anguish real. Most of us in the room were speechless or simply prayed silently. But then, the same woman who had wagged her finger at me just a few weeks earlier began to speak. She spoke words of comfort and respect, and then said, "no matter what path you take, or whatever you decide, the truth is - God wants us to be free." Again, she repeated, "God wants you to be free!"
This was someone that, weeks before, I had been unable to look at, much less listen to, a person who had basically lumped me in with the Pharisees and Sadducees John described as the "brood of vipers" (3:7). But she was now speaking words of hope, promise and freedom. She was John the Baptist to me. I didn't want to look and I didn't want to listen. Although it was a painful realization, I realized I had judged and rejected well-meaning offers of help. And she spoke the truth.
Jesus' message at Christmas is, in fact, "you're free!" Sit with that today and in this season of Advent. You are free. Free from fear. Free from guilt. Free to love. But in order to find and celebrate this message, we must first face the prophets in our own lives who are like John the Baptist. These prophets make us uncomfortable, but when we listen to them, we are preparing the way of the Lord, and we will be ready to openly greet our Messiah at Christmas. Only then will we be able to live into and celebrate the freedom that Christ brings.
© 2007 Mary Davis
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