This is Just the Beginning (Second Sunday of Advent)

Mark 1:1-8

1 The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. 2 As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, "See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; 3 the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: "Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,' " 4 John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

Beginnings: every story has to have one, but every good story has a good one. Sure some are a bit cliché: “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a beautiful princess…” When you hear a beginning like that, you know that you’re about to hear a fairy tale, perhaps one involving a princess, her prince charming, dragons, fairy godmothers, and the whole nine yards. That sort of beginning prepares you for the story you’re about to hear. Of course there are different kinds of beginning: “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.” Perhaps when some of you hear that sort of beginning your mind drifts back to high school English class and those long novels you had to read even though you hated them. No matter what kind of story it is, every story has to have a beginning, and every beginning prepares us in some way for what we are about to hear.

Stories of faith are no different. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” What do you think that beginning is preparing you for? You know, when it comes right down to it, the four gospels of the New Testament are some pretty good stories, but it seems like when it came to good beginnings, there were only three to go around. Think about it: Matthew and Luke have great beginnings—we know theirs probably best of all. Matthew has a full forensic list of Jesus’ ancestors, tying him to the line of David. He has Magi who come from far away to visit Jesus when he was a boy, bringing him gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Matthew tells us that Jesus’ family had to take a detour through Egypt because of a baby-murdering tantrum from King Herod, letting us in on Matthew’s attempt to connect Jesus with the prophetic role of Moses. Now that’s a pretty good beginning to one of the greatest stories ever told.

Personally, I like Luke a little better. Luke’s beginning reads like something out of Shakespeare (especially when read in the King James Version). Luke’s beginning, with the use of songs and moments of character reflection, attempts to show us the more psychological sides of the characters of the nativity as he describes shepherds who were “sore afraid” and the new mother Mary “pondering these things in her heart.” In his beginning, Luke gives us some background on John the Baptizer, has angels appearing left and right to herald the good news to the unsuspecting, and then, there at the cradle of the baby Jesus, Luke even includes the everyday, working man—the shepherds. Now that too is a pretty good way to begin one of the greatest stories in human history.

But let’s not forget about the fourth gospel, the Gospel according to John. Sure, John doesn’t have a beginning that folks have written Christmas carols about, but that doesn’t make it any less amazing. In fact, theologically speaking, John seems to be trying to trump both Luke and Matthew: while they have stories about the earthly birth of Jesus, John tells us about the eternally divine nature of the Christ, existing as the eternal logos, which “was with God…and is God.” John’s beginning prepares us for the great theological revelation that is about to unfold in front of us in his gospel. Jesus is revealed as the “Light of the World,” and the rest of the gospel sets out to drive that point home.

Matthew and Luke both have great narrative beginnings that fill our hearts and minds with thoughts of Christmas and the joyous occasion of the Advent of Jesus, and John’s beginning is pregnant with the theological language of a doctoral dissertation, preparing us to meet the divine logos that is Jesus the Christ…but what about Mark? I mean, let’s be honest, as the beginning to what is supposed to be the greatest story ever told, it falls pretty flat. There are no Magi, no angels, no shepherds, and no heaven-bound language describing some eternal mystery—there’s nothing like that at all! You almost get the feeling that maybe Mark didn’t try, or maybe he wasn’t that creative; after all, if you read the rest of his gospel, Mark seems to be writing in a hurry, skipping important events or details the other gospels fill us in on later. There just doesn’t seem to be any pop or zing to Mark’s beginning, so how are we to know exactly what it’s preparing us for?

Take the text before us this morning. This is Mark’s beginning…THIS is Mark’s beginning? Don’t you feel a little bit like you may have walked in the living room hoping to catch the very beginning of your favorite show, but instead a severe weather report has thrown off the schedule, so now you have to pick up in the middle of a different show with no idea what’s going on because you were just sort of dropped in? Mark doesn’t take any time to prime the pump—he just starts at the Jordan River, with that camel-hair diaper-wearing wild man John. Who is John in the first place? If you’re only reading Mark (and for the first time), you don’t know! He just shows up! Furthermore, what’s he doing there anyhow? What is it that John is doing that may help Mark’s beginning prepare us for what’s to come?

Well, it just so happens that Mark actually tells us what John is doing there in the Jordan valley in verse 4: “John the Baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” So that’s what he was up to: proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. But what exactly does that mean as a beginning? Is this supposed to be a story about John the Baptizer? Is this a story about his preaching, his ministry? Well, no in fact, because Mark tells us what John says while standing in the cool, muddy waters of that Ancient Near Eastern creek in verses 7 and 8: “He proclaimed, ‘The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.’” It turns out that John himself is actually a beginning—a beginning that prepares the way for another. He is there preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins…but that’s only the beginning! John’s message is only a beginning, a beginning for something, or someone, else.

Then, Mark, in an amalgamation of prophetic quotations in verses 2 and 3 tells us about this sort of preparation: As it is written in the prophet Isaiah, "See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way; the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.'” We’ve already seen that John has claimed to be the beginning, the one preparing the way for another, and now we see Mark quoting Scripture about one who is paving the way of the Lord.

John prepared us for the one who was to come, and this one who is coming is coming by the way of the Lord. But who is it? Of course, you and I know the answer. We do not prepare for Advent unaware of the identity of the One who was, is, and is to come. We’ve heard the story before, or at least we live in a context where the story is somewhat familiar to us. But that wasn’t necessarily the case for Mark’s first audience: for them Mark’s gospel new. It was for many of them the first time they heard the Good News, the first time they heard about John and the beginning of the gospel. John was preparing the way. John was the beginning, the beginning for Jesus, and Jesus was bringing with him the way of the Lord.

But remember, this is the beginning, the beginning of Mark’s gospel. This isn’t the whole story. There has to be more to this, more than just a wild-looking, baptizing, hype man. There has to be more to this “way of the Lord” he was preparing. In fact, the Greek word for “way” (hodos) is all over Mark’s gospel; you could even say it’s a key word in understanding Mark’s gospel, because anywhere you see the word hodos (or in English: way, road, path, etc.) there’s a pretty good chance something important is going on, something kingdom-oriented is taking place, and Jesus is there in the midst of it.   

So John is prepared the way for Jesus, and here’s what we see throughout Mark’s gospel: Jesus is always preparing the way for us. You see, this isn’t the whole story; Mark’s gospel isn’t the whole story. He didn’t sit down to write a complete summation of THE WAY just so others could read it and say to themselves, “that was a good story with a mediocre beginning.” After all, look at verse 1 again. Mark says this is “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” That phrase stands alone. Mark isn’t saying that this little story about a crazy baptizer and his antics in the Jordan River are the beginning of a good story. No. In fact, what Mark seems to be saying is that his entire gospel is the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. Mark’s gospel is preparing us for the WAY OF THE LORD! This entire gospel is the beginning of the good news!

And the way starts here, in the muddy water of the Jordan, listening to John crying out in preparation for Jesus, who prepares the way for you and me. He prepares our way for deeper relationships with one another as he calls us to love our neighbors; he prepares our way as we follow his example in the words of Mark’s gospel; he prepares our way as he willing lays down his life on the cruel cross of Calvary and as he leaves behind an empty tomb on Sunday morning, so that you and I may have a real, loving relationship with the God of creation. Mark begins with John, who prepared the way for Jesus, and now, Jesus has prepared the way for you. Will you follow him on THE WAY? Will today be the day you begin following Jesus on THE WAY OF THE LORD? Will this day, this second Sunday of Advent, be the day you mark as a beginning, a beginning when you let go of more of yourself and took hold of more of who Christ is and who Christ is calling you to be? May today be a beginning for you in your relationship with the Prince of Peace, the coming Christ. Amen.

Here Comes Jesus! (First Sunday of Advent)

Mark 13:24-37

24 "But in those days, after that suffering, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, 25 and the stars will be falling from heaven, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken. 26 Then they will see "the Son of Man coming in clouds' with great power and glory. 27 Then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect from the four winds, from the ends of the earth to the ends of heaven. 28 "From the fig tree learn its lesson: as soon as its branch becomes tender and puts forth its leaves, you know that summer is near. 29 So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that he is near, at the very gates. 30 Truly I tell you, this generation will not pass away until all these things have taken place. 31 Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away. 32 "But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33 Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. 34 It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. 35 Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, 36 or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. 37 And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake."

            It has been over three decades since it happened. For thirty-one years thousands (maybe millions) of people have been waiting: some of them have not been waiting patiently. When it happened, those three decades ago, the world seemed as if it would never be the same. In the meantime, there were rumors, lots of rumors, rumors about what happened before and what would happen afterward. There were stories conjured up by those with incredible imaginations, stories that helped some cope with what happened, while only enraging others and confusing countless more. With the advent of the internet, those rumors and stories took on lives of their own, and it seemed as if the unrest would simply continue on indefinitely into the future.

            But then, about fifteen years ago, there seemed to be a new hope. Rumors and speculation were put to rest as facts came forward about the events that led up to what had happened. Some of the facts were predictable. Some of them were detestable. Some of them didn’t make any sense at all, and some of the things that came out caused many to give up on the whole thing altogether. These new developments rolled out for about five years, ending just about ten years ago. Still, there were unanswered questions, so the masses continued to conjure up theories and create their own sort of myths to fill in the gaps. It seemed as if they’d never find closure, as if their only hope was to be found in the theories and crackpot prophecies of those who hid behind scree names and aliases. They were left to just guess…until just a few days ago. That’s when it happened.

            It only lasted 91 seconds, but in those precious few seconds millions of people were once again filled with anticipation. For three decades they’ve been waiting. For three decades there have been rumors. For three decades there have been conjured myths. But no more, because this past Friday, the new trailer for Star Wars, Episode VII: The Force Awakens was released! That’s right, in just over a year the world will get to see what actually happened after Return of the Jedi (which came out thirty-one years ago), and hopefully we can all move past the prequels and Jar-Jar Binx (they were released fifteen years ago, with the final instalment released in 2005). All of the rumors swirling around the world on the internet will finally be put to rest, and fans will get what they’ve been waiting for long to see…though it may not be exactly how they’ve imagined it.

            Of course, that’s how things are when we have to wait for so long: the mystery, the uncertainty surrounding them birth speculation, rumors, and myth. Often, if the wait is long, those speculations take on a life of their own, becoming in some cases more important to people than what it is they are actually waiting for. In other words, sometimes, when we have to wait for something, those things which occupy our time in the interim becomes our obsession. It becomes what matters the most to us, and when the very thing we’ve been waiting for finally arrives, we miss it, or refuse to acknowledge it because it isn’t the way we imagined it, because it isn’t exactly how we wanted it to be.

            I have a feeling that was one of the reasons folks rejected Jesus early on: he didn’t exactly live up to their expectations, the expectations they had for the Messiah. If they had glorious visions of a conquering warrior, Jesus was definitely a disappointment when he said, “Blessed are the peacemakers…”[1] If they had grand hopes of a prosperous life under the reign of God’s Messiah, they were surely upset when Jesus called them to “Sell all that [they] own and distribute the money to the poor…”[2] If they had been looking forward to the day when God’s anointed would drive out the Roman occupiers at the end of a sword, then surely they were at a loss when those same Romans nailed him to a cross to execute him. If they had been looking for the Son of God to descend from the clouds riding a fiery chariot with a host of angels at his disposal, you can bet they completely missed him when he arrived naked and crying, born to a teenager and laid in a manger.

            Of course, we’re not without such faults. We presently live in a time of waiting, a time of anticipation. We are looking forward not only the celebration of Christ’s first Advent, his first arrival, but we are also looking forward to his second Advent, that day when Christ will return and the fullness of God’s kingdom will be realized on earth as it is in heaven. And in this interim period (nearly two thousand years) we have read passages like the one we’ve heard this morning and allowed our imaginations (often aided by the imaginations of others) to create wonderfully vivid pictures of what Christ’s return will look like. Some with greater imaginations and the ability to find a so-called “prophecy” hiding even in the most obscure places in Scripture have made millions of dollars with their own depictions of what Christ’s return will be like. 

            We can read words like those in verses 24-31 and find ourselves imagining a dark, dystopian future that can only be fixed by even darker, drastic, cosmic events. We read those words and then when we are inundated by the 24-hour cable news cycles with stories of violence and terror from around the world with their obviously biased finger-pointing, when we see the reports of anger and unrest like those from Ferguson, Missouri, when we log onto to Facebook and Twitter accounts and see the way people treat other one another, when there’s yet another school shooting and no one wants to really talk about why, some of us find these kinds of stories perversely comforting. We say things like, “It just means the end is near…it’s a sign of the ‘end of days’…it means Jesus is coming soon and all of ‘them’ will find out just what all of ‘us’ have been talking about…”

            We read those words and the various passages like those found in Christ’s Revelation to John and our imaginations run wild, dreaming up what it might be like when Christ makes his Second Advent known. In the midst of that sort of speculation, however, I’m afraid we too often overlook other words from Scripture, the rest of the words from Jesus in the gospels. We can get so caught up in the guesswork of unraveling what the future holds and untangling the mysterious words of Scripture, that we overlook those things that are right in front of us, those words from God that are not so cryptic. It seems to me that we are likely to repeat the mistakes of those who, in the time prior to Christ’s birth, allowed their predictions and assumptions to blind them to the actual arrival of Christ.

            That is why I think on this first Sunday of Advent, a season of hope-filled waiting, that we focus our attention—not on the ominous words of apocalyptic mystery, but—on the words of Jesus in verses 32-37: "But about that day or hour no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come. It is like a man going on a journey, when he leaves home and puts his slaves in charge, each with his work, and commands the doorkeeper to be on the watch. Therefore, keep awake—for you do not know when the master of the house will come, in the evening, or at midnight, or at cockcrow, or at dawn, or else he may find you asleep when he comes suddenly. And what I say to you I say to all: Keep awake."

            Whatever that coming day may look like, whenever it may happen, the most important thing for us as followers of Jesus to remember is this: we are called to “keep awake,” and that means that we are to be about the work to which Christ has called us. We are to be about helping, healing, serving, and loving others right here, right now. We are to be awake, not daydreaming about a day when we won’t have to be burdened with all this responsibility. We are to be about bringing God’s kingdom to reality here on earth, not simply shrugging our shoulders and chalking up bad news to a premillennial, dispensationalist understanding of the world.

            On this first Sunday of Advent, a Sunday when we reflect on the hope that we have in Christ, may we choose to be heralds of that hope to the world and not callers of cataclysmic doom. May we be vessels of Christ’s hope, proclaimers of the gospel, doers of the word. May we be people who claim during this wonderful season that Christ has come, Christ is here, and Christ will come again. May we be people who hope, people who in such hope, keep awake and do the will of our Lord. Amen.

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[1] Matthew 5:9

[2] Luke 18:22