Torn Open

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Torn Open” Mark 1:4-11

Elena Bernal was not looking forward to the holidays. The sixty-six-year-old was widowed three years ago in December. Home feels quiet and lonely now, especially at Christmas. Elena breaks down in tears, just thinking about her loss. “We grew up together,” she says of her late husband, “We met in middle school. I miss him so much.”

The world is in the midst of a loneliness epidemic. A Meta-Gallup poll released in October conducted in 142 countries found that one quarter of the world’s population reports feeling very or fairly lonely. The statistics are even higher in the United States. In May, the Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy released a report indicating that half of Americans report experiencing loneliness.

There are a number of reasons for our national surge in loneliness. In this post-pandemic world, more people are working and learning remotely. We’re communicating more remotely, too, with Facetime and Zoom replacing meetings, visits, and face-to-face gatherings. Larger societal changes further contribute to the problem of loneliness. The social media boom, which presents a distorted, idealized vision of the daily life of others, has us scrolling on our phones rather than picking up our phones to make a call to our friends and family. More of us live alone these days. In 1960, only 13% of Americans lived by themselves. Today that number has more than doubled to 29% of us. We may feel it is tougher to form genuine connections, too. In 1972, 45% of us trusted our neighbors. In the midst of the increasing political and social division of our nation, only about 30% of us now say that our neighbors are trustworthy.

Loneliness is bad for our health. It puts us at increased risk for depression, anxiety, addiction, self-harm, and even suicide. The Surgeon General’s report indicates that loneliness increases the risk of premature death by 26%. It’s worse for us than obesity or inactivity. Dr. Murthy compares loneliness to smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. It increases our risk of heart disease by 29%, our risk of stroke by 32%, and among the elderly, the risk of dementia doubles. Feelings of loneliness have seen the greatest increase among those aged 19 to 29. Half of young adults say that in the last week no one had taken more than a few moments to reach out to them or express any sort of genuine care.

If the Meta-Gallup poll and the US Surgeon General are right, then addressing the epidemic of loneliness and isolation is critical to the world’s well-being.

I suspect that there were feelings of loneliness and isolation at play in the crowds who came to hear the fiery preaching of John the Baptist. John spoke boldly of existential loneliness, the alienation and isolation that come when we feel that we are separated from God and our neighbors. In fact, John proclaimed a bold message of repentance, of returning to right relationship with God and community.

Jesus came to the muddy banks of the River Jordan.  He took a seat among the crowds and listened to what John had to say.  Throngs of pilgrims, the whole Judean countryside, had come to gawk at John and listen to his bold exhortation. If we listen up this morning, we can almost hear the rough voice of the Baptizer, the song of the river, and the murmuring of the entranced crowds. Compelled by the power of John’s message, Jesus kicked off his sandals, set aside his staff, bag, and traveling cloak.  He waded into the gritty Jordan to John’s side, and he was baptized. 

We’re told that when Jesus emerged from the river, something extraordinary happened.  The sky was torn open (sxizomenous).  In the Hebrew understanding of the world, the sky was a solid dome, the firmament, established by God at creation.  The Israelites believed that we lived on this side of the firmament while God was on the other. Separate. Holy. Distant. Apart. The Prophet Isaiah gives us a feeling for this separation between God and humanity. When the Israelites lived in exile in Babylon, Isaiah cried out to God, “O, that you would tear open the heavens and come down!” (Isaiah 64:1).  At Jesus’ baptism, God tore open the heavens. God entered into the world to reshape it through this humble carpenter from Galilee.

Jesus went forth from his baptism to live a torn-open life, a life marked by compassion and a willingness to be vulnerable with and for others. He identified with those who lived as outsiders. He called fishermen, tax collectors, and peasants to be his disciples. He broke bread with sinners. Jesus advocated for the powerless – welcoming women to his ministry and blessing the children. Jesus healed, ending the physical, social, and spiritual isolation of lepers, demoniacs, and the disabled. The torn-open Jesus confronted empire and Temple, those who wielded brutal power over others, with the promise of a coming Kingdom where power would be used to help and to heal.

Jesus’s choice for a torn-open life was most clearly revealed in his death on the cross. Even as he underwent unimaginable suffering, he thought of others. He welcomed a repentant thief to paradise. He prayed for God to forgive his executioners. Let’s face it. On the cross, Jesus was literally torn open. Nails brutally pierced his hands and feet. A spear was thrust through his side and into his vital organs.  It’s messy and brutal and awful. And we learn the lengths that God will go for our sake, the limitless love of a torn-open God.

At the moment of Christ’s death, we are reminded of his baptism. The curtain in the Temple that sequestered the holy of holies was torn open from top to bottom. We do not hear God’s voice speaking from the heavens, “This is my Son the Beloved;” rather, a Roman soldier at the foot of the cross, who witnessed the compassion and dignity with which Jesus died, pronounced, “Surely, this man was God’s son.” In living a torn-open life, Jesus granted us a vision of the world that God would have us make. It’s a world where faithful people choose to make a difference by facing head-on all that has separated us from God and one another. It’s world where we trust that on the far side of the world’s worst, new life will rise, and we have a role to play in that new creation.

Michael Rogness, who taught preaching for many years at Luther Seminary, likes to point out that to be baptized is to follow Jesus. We, who were sprinkled as infants, confirmed as teens, or chose baptism as adults, have embarked on a life of discipleship. That doesn’t mean that we are perfect or exceptionally pious, walk on water or know every chapter and verse of scripture. Rather, discipleship is that choice for a torn-open life of compassion and caring. It prompts us to feed hungry neighbors, welcome strangers, embrace those who feel like outsiders, and bless children. The torn-open life is a calling to help, to heal, and to love. Always love.

Our choice to follow Jesus in this torn-open life may be the antidote for the world’s epidemic of loneliness. According to the Surgeon General, social connection is the most important tool in overcoming social isolation. Human beings who are embedded in a web of concerned and caring individuals thrive. Our interest and caring for others are as essential to our well-being—and theirs—as the air we breathe and the food we eat. Medical science confirms that the world becomes healthier, physically and mentally, when people are respected and valued, looked after and look out for. Our loving care and interest in others, our choice to be torn open, changes us and changes others. Loneliness ends. We find meaning, purpose, motivation, and hope. We begin to see the world that Jesus would have us make, where the barriers that separate us from our neighbors and disconnect us from God are torn open.

Elena Bernal’s Christmas was a lot better than she expected. She accepted an invitation to attend Christmas lunch at the Serving Seniors Wellness Center in Cortez Hills where she lives. Serving Seniors is a nonprofit organization that is dedicated to helping low-income seniors. They provide nutritious food, but they believe the social interaction and hospitality that are shared when they break bread together is even more important. Elena ran into an old friend Gwendolyn King at the lunch. The two women visited and shared news as they enjoyed a traditional holiday meal. Alan Busteed, looking dapper in a three-piece suit, moved from table to table playing carols on his violin and taking requests. As Elena left, she was given a Christmas present and a $10 gift card. It was nice, really nice.

The Serving Seniors Wellness Center has a banner that hangs above the buffet. It reads, “Remember, you are a citizen of the world, and everybody needs you. You’ll find happiness in the giving of yourself.” If you ask me, it sounds a lot like a torn-open life.

Resources

Tammy Murga. “Christmas Day can be lonely, quiet for many. Serving Seniors made it a fun one for these San Diegans,” in The San Diego Union-Tribune, Dec. 25, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.sandiegouniontribune.com/

Dr. Vivek Murthy, Julianne Holt-Lunstad, et al. Our Epidemic of Loneliness and Isolation: The Surgeon General’s Advisory on the Healing Effects of Social Connection and Community. Washington, DC: Office of the Surgeon General, May 2, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/surgeon-general-social-connection-advisory.pdf

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on Mark 1:4-11” in Preaching This Week, January 8, 2012. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Michael Rogness. “Commentary on Mark 1:4-11” in Preaching This Week, January 8, 2012. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Adrianna Rodriguez. “Americans Are Lonely and It’s Killing Them” in USA Today, Dec. 24, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.usatoday.com.

Theresa Coleman. “2023: The Year of the Loneliness Epidemic” in The Week Magazine, December 9, 2023. Accessed online at https://theweek.com.


Mark 1:4-11

4John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5And 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. 6Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7He 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. 8I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” 9In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”


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Christ the Savior Is Born!

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Christ the Savior Is Born” Luke 2:1-7

Every Christmas Eve, we host a family-friendly service of worship at church for the children and those feeling a bit childlike. This Christmas, we shared the stories of the Angel Gabriel, the shepherds Reuben and Simka, and the Wise Ones. Merry Christmas, my friends!

“The Most Important Message”

As told by Gabriel

Greetings, favored ones! Do I have a story to tell you! Whew! Let me catch my breath. I just flew in from the great beyond.

(Takes a seat in the rocker and pretends to take a big drink from a goblet).

That’s much better. How very nice to meet you! I’m the Angel Gabriel, God’s finest messenger. Whenever there is important news to share, you can count on me to get the word out.

Many, many years ago, God had the most important message of all to share. It was a very difficult time in the life of the Hebrew people. King Herod was in charge and he had to be the greediest and the grouchiest king ever. He loved to build fancy palaces, and who do you think had to pay for them? The people! Herod got richer and richer, but the people got poorer and poorer.

The people dreamed of the day when a true king would come to Israel. In fact, God had long ago promised to send a special child who would grow up to be their king.  This child would speak God’s words to the people. This child would teach them how to love God and love one another.  This child would be holy.  The people so longed for the birth of this child that they used to sing about it,

Sings: “O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel…”

Do you know what Emmanuel means?  It means “God with us.”  This special child to be born to the Hebrew people would remind them that God was with them, even when their lives felt very hard.

One day, God knew that the time was right for this special baby to be born.  Of course, there was only one messenger who could carry news that important: me!

God said, “Gabriel, I have an extra special mission for you.  Go to the village of Nazareth in Galilee.  There you will find a young woman named Mary.”

I have to say that when I heard I had to go to Nazareth, I wondered if God had the right destination. Nazareth! You know what they say about Nazareth: can anything good come from there? It was just a poor and sleepy little village, filled with farmers and carpenters and shepherds. And how would I find the right Mary?   It had to be the most popular name for girls in all of Israel. 

I must have looked like I was confused because God smiled at me. My heart got all warm, my halo began to glow, and I just knew that God had it all figured out. 

God said, “Go to young Mary, who is engaged to the carpenter Joseph, who is descended from the house of King David.  Tell her that I have chosen her from among all the women in Israel to bear a holy child.” 

Well, I was ready to fly off right away, but God stopped me and said, “Gabriel, don’t forget to tell Mary that her baby boy will be the Messiah. She is to name him Jesus because he will save the people from their sins.”

So off I went to Nazareth.  The village was even more miserable than I remembered.  It didn’t seem like a very promising place for the Messiah to be born, but God always knows what God is doing.  Even humble beginnings can lead to great things. 

In Nazareth, I found Mary.  Her mother had sent her to the well to collect water for her family. I must have been a very surprising sight.  Mary looked ready to run away, but I told her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”  That got her attention.

Mary wasn’t much more than a girl, but as I looked into her eyes, I could tell that she was very special.  She was kind and generous. She liked to laugh, and she was very patient with her little brothers and sisters. Best of all, Mary loved God with all her heart.  I knew she was just right for the special mission that God had given her, so I told her, the Holy Spirit would be at work within her and she would give birth to the holy child that the people had longed for all through the long years.

Even though it sounded a little scary and really impossible to have such a special baby, Mary thought hard about the message that I had given her from God.  Then she gave the answer that God was counting on, “Here I am, Lord.  I’m ready to be the mother of that special child.”  Do you remember what that child would be named?

(wait as if to hear the name Jesus)

Right you are!  Jesus!

Well, you know me—God’s finest messenger. Time to deliver some more important news. Gotta go, but I have arranged for some special people to come and tell you all about the birth of that special child Jesus. 

Shalom, my friends!

“The Shepherds Hear Good News”

2 shepherds are seated at the campfire.  One sings,

“Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere;

Go tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ is born!”

Reuben:  Hey, we’ve got company!  Come on over, watch out for the lambs.  Take a seat by our campfire. 

Simka:  Did Gabriel send you? I bet you want to hear the story about that special night.  The night when the skies were filled with choirs of angels. They sang for us, sharing good news of great joy.

Reuben:  Those holy sounds are still ringing in my ears. 

Simka: Allow me to introduce myself.  I’m Simka, a shepherd by trade. 

Reuben:  And I’m Reuben.  We tend sheep and goats.  We spend most of our time with the flocks. 

Simka: We have to keep them moving so that they find green grass to nibble, clean water to drink, shade from the noonday sun, and shelter for the night. 

Reuben: (brandishes his staff) Sometimes, I have to keep them safe, too – protect them from wild dogs or even lions. 

Simka: It’s hard work being a shepherd – it takes patience and bravery.  At night, we shepherds bring our flocks together. 

Reuben: We light a small fire, share a meal, tell stories, and take turns watching the animals.  Can’t you just imagine us with the other shepherds at the campfire with our flocks gathered around us? 

Simka: Well, the story that we’re about to tell you is the best story ever.  I know because I was there.

Reuben: So was I!  One night, on the hills just outside of Bethlehem, we were spending the night with our flocks.

Simka: It was dark and quiet on the hillside – just like every night. Then suddenly, there was a great light, shining and sparkling in the sky.  

(Gestures to the sky, pointing to where the angels appeared.)

Reuben: We looked up and saw an angel, a messenger from the Lord. The glory of God shone down upon us, all shimmery and beautiful and good. 

Simka: We were so amazed that we were also very frightened. Nothing like this had ever happened to us before, and we didn’t know whether to cry or laugh or run away – or maybe all three!

Reuben:  The angel could see just how frightened and uncertain we were, so the angel said to us, (speaks in a loud angel voice) “Don’t be afraid. I bring you good news which will be a great joy to all people. Today, in the town of Bethlehem, a Savior has been born, Christ the Lord. This will be the sign for you: you will find the baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” 

Simka:  Suddenly, there was a huge crowd of heaven’s angels with the first angel.  They filled the whole sky with their light and their wonderful song, “Glory to God in the highest and peace to God’s people on earth.”  The memory of those angel voices still gives me the shivers!

Reuben: When the angels had left and gone back to the heavens, we looked at one another in amazement.  We pinched ourselves to make sure that we were really awake. 

Simka: Then, we began to wonder.  Could this baby be THE BABY?  You know, the special baby that God had promised to our people, a baby who was God’s child, who would grow up to be a great king for our people. 

Reuben: There was only way to find out. We had to go to Bethlehem and see for ourselves. We left our sheep on the hillside and hurried into the village.

Simka: When we got to Bethlehem, we looked around until we found Mary and Joseph in the stable.  And there he was! The baby Jesus was lying in the manger.

Reuben: It was just as the angel had promised!  This was our newborn king!  Seeing him filled us with hope. We celebrated and told Mary and Joseph all the things that the angels had said about the child.

Simka: Even the animals seemed to find joy and peace in the presence of the baby. I think even the camels were smiling! As wereturned to our flocks, we were filled with joy.  We sang and praised God at the top of our lungs. 

Reuben: The villagers thought we had stopped at the tavern for a libation, but we were just filled with the Holy Spirit.  God had sent a holy child who would be the savior of our people. 

Simka:  Do you know who that child was?

(cups her hand to her ear and waits to hear, “Jesus.”)

That’s right, Jesus!  Holy be his name!

Reuben sings:

“Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere;

Go tell it on the mountain that Jesus Christ is born!”

The Wise Ones Seek the Newborn King

Props: a Bible Atlas, bincoulars

The Scene: Two wise men stand at the front of the sanctuary.  One is pondering a Bible Atlas.  The other scans the horizon with the binoculars.

Balthazar (with Atlas):  I wonder what happened to Melchior.  We sent him over to Blue Moon more than an hour ago for bagels and coffee.  I’m hungry!

Caspar (with binoculars):  You know his sense of direction. I bet he got lost.

Balthazar: Hey, Caspar, put those binoculars down. We’ve got company.

Caspar: Greetings honored guests!  (bows humbly)  I’m Caspar, the youngest and most handsome of the Magi. If only Melchior had returned, we would invite you to share breakfast with us.

Balthazar (grandly):  Allow me to introduce myself.  I am Balthazar, the wisest of the Magi.  Give me a star chart and a telescope and I can take you from one end of the Milky Way to the other – and back. 

Caspar:  I am only a young and humble learner, yet even I can tell you the secret language of the heavens.  (Listens carefully.)  Ah!  Alpha Centauri just ordered brunch!  Hey! She ordered lox for her bagels! Why didn’t I think of that? I hear the lox is so good at Blue Moon, too!

Balthazar (rolls eyes):  We have spent many, many years learning the mysteries of the heavens. Great Kings call on us for advice.  They wouldn’t so much as launch a ship or build a palace without checking with us first to see if it was in the stars. 

Caspar:  As long as you’re here and we’re waiting for Melchior with the coffee, allow us to tell you about our greatest journey ever.  Back in our homeland Persia, we saw a star.  (points to the heavens) 

Balthazar (stands extra tall with importance):  This was a special star, the star of a king. The heavens were telling us that a child was to be born who would be the king of the Jews!  God had promised this child to the people from of old – a Messiah, a Prince of Peace who would lead the people in paths of peace. 

Caspar:  Like a beacon, the star called us across the desert sands to Israel:  (speaking with the voice of the star) “Balthazar, Caspar, Melchior!  Come, come to Israel to see the little tiny Hebrew King!”

Balthazar (rolls eyes):  So, we left Persia with a great caravan to meet and worship the newborn king.  We brought special treasures, gifts to honor the baby king. 

Caspar:  Gold! Hah, hah!  A king’s ransom!

Balthazar:  Frankincense!  A fragrant offering fit for the holiest of children!

Caspar:  Myrrh! Ooh-hooo! The rarest of oils to anoint the greatest of kings!

Balthazar:  At last, our caravan came to Jerusalem, the holy city.  We stopped at King Herod’s Palace, seeking the newborn king.  But alas!  Herod the Great new nothing of our Messiah.

Caspar:  He was very interested, though, in what we had to say. 

Balthazar:  Herod gave us directions to Bethlehem, the city of David.  Long ago, the Hebrew prophets had foretold that from Bethlehem the true heir of King David would one day arise.

Caspar:  That Herod, what a great guy!  He even wanted us to come back when we found the little king so that he could give him a special present.

Balthazar:  Across the miles from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, we rode our camels through shepherd’s fields and olive groves.  Ahead of us in the night sky, rode the star of wonder.  It led us to the strangest of places.

Caspar:  You see, we believed that we would find the holy child in a great palace, swaddled in silks and tended by an army of nannies.  But God had something different in mind. 

Balthazar:  We found the little king in the humblest of homes.  He had been born in a stable, surrounded by camels, sheep, goats, chickens, and oxen!  His mother was the youngest of maids, not much more than a girl.  Her husband Joseph was a humble craftsman, a carpenter by trade.

Caspar (in awe):  Yet the star stopped and shone its beautiful light upon that humble dwelling, upon that tender babe.  The heavens had brought us to the Lord of the Universe!

Balthazar (confessing):  Even I, the mighty Balthazar – the wisest of the Magi – was overcome by the wonder of that moment and the holiness of the child.

Caspar:  We fell to our knees in worship.  Then we shared our royal gifts.

Balthazar:  We would have stayed in Bethlehem forever to worship him.  Yet we were warned in a dream to leave, to return home by another way.

Caspar:  The heavens told us to avoid King Herod at all costs!  It seems he wasn’t such a nice guy after all.

Balthazar:  Returning by another way brought us to your lovely village, honored guests.

Caspar:  Hey!  I think I smell coffee!  (points to the back of the church) Look!  It’s Melchior.  Hey, can you go back and add lox to my order!

(The Wise Men depart with singing)

“Star of wonder, Star of night, Star with royal beauty bright,

westward leading, still proceeding, guide us to thy perfect light!”


Luke 2:1-20

2In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3All went to their own towns to be registered. 4Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. 8In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, 14“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”[ 15When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.]


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Messengers

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Messengers” Mark 1:1-8

When we want to send a message, we pick up our phones and tap out a text. We may even resort to a phone call. For longer messages, we’ll sit down at the computer to send an email. All those modes of communication get the message out instantaneously. If we are old school, we might pick up a pen and write a letter, carefully seal it in an envelope, apply a stamp, and drop it off at the post office, trusting that our snail mail will reach its destination across the country in a matter of days.

To send a message in the ancient near east, you needed a messenger, someone who would carry your words to their intended destination. Messengers traveled long distances on important purposes, sometimes at great risk.

There were royal messengers. In the fifth century BC, the Persian Emperor Darius developed the Royal Road, a network of mounted couriers called the Angarium. They efficiently transmitted imperial messages from Susa in modern-day Iran to Sardis in modern day Turkey. Like the pony express, the mounted messengers of the Angarium worked in relays. They reportedly could make the 1,677-mile journey in nine days, a journey that would take ninety days on foot. The Greek historian Herodotus was so impressed that he wrote, “There is nothing in the world that travels faster than these Persian couriers.” “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.” If those words sound familiar, it is because they are sometimes quoted as the unofficial slogan of the United States Postal Service. 

The Romans expanded this early postal system with engineering work that forged lasting roadways along ancient trade routes that dated back thousands of years. The Romans employed military messengers who brought news to and from the battlefield. A messenger with good news carried a laurel wreath, heralding victory. A messenger with bad news attached a feather to his spear, indicating the need for haste. In the year four, when Gaius Caesar, the heir to the Roman throne, died in Lycia, a military messenger bore the news home. Bad weather forced the courier to travel the 1,345 miles overland. His journey took thirty-six days, averaging more than thirty-seven miles a day.

Of course, scripture tells us that there were religious messengers in the ancient world. When God’s word came to the prophets, they felt compelled to speak uncomfortable or surprising truths to humanity. God sent the reluctant Jonah to Nineveh to preach repentance. God sent the Prophet Elijah to trouble King Ahab and Queen Jezebel by denouncing their idolatry. Messengers from God never knew what to expect. In Jonah’s case, his tough message was welcomed and the whole city returned to right living. In Elijah’s case, he spent most of his life on the run or battling the prophets of Baal. It’s a whole lot easier to tap out a text, make a call, send an email, or resort to snail mail. Isn’t it?

Mark’s gospel bypasses our beloved stories of Jesus’s birth.  There is no babe in a manger. No shepherds guarding their flocks by night. No wise ones from the east bearing royal gifts. Instead, Mark gives us a messenger: John.

Like a royal messenger, John conveyed a message from the Kingdom of God to the people of occupied Israel. Mark introduces John with the words of the Prophet Isaiah, “The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” When Isaiah first spoke those words, they heralded coming liberation for the Hebrew people. God would soon bring Israel’s time of exile in Babylon to an end, and the Israelites would return to their promised land. It may be lost on us, but to the Israelites, John’s introduction sounded like a promise of coming freedom from Roman occupation.

John’s urgency was that of a military messenger. The battle between good and evil had been won in heaven, but the battle was coming to an earthly battlefield. The one coming after John would confront the forces of empire and temple. Those forces would send God’s champion to his death on a cross. But just when it seemed that the forces of darkness had won the battle, a resurrection miracle would win the victory for God and for us.

John was also a religious messenger. With a camel-hide tunic, unappetizing diet of locusts and honey, and tense message, John fit the description of an Old Testament Prophet, like Elijah, who was expected to return to herald the Messiah. John brought good and bad news, a laurel wreath and the feather. The good news was that the messiah was coming. The bad news was that the people weren’t ready. They needed to repent, to turn their lives around and return to God.

John visits us every Advent. He’s the messenger who stirs a little bah humbug into our Christmas cheer. God sends John into the midst of our shopping and baking, our parties and pageants. John reminds us that we are meant to serve another Kingdom. That Kingdom is coming, whether we are ready or not. John is a timely reminder that our holiday preparations are always best when tempered by our spiritual preparation. John invites us to turn things around, to be centered in God with worship, prayer, study and the desire to be good news for the world around us.

The Apostle Paul characterized Christians as messengers. Paul and his friends would make at least four missionary journeys across the Roman Empire, covering thousands of miles by foot or by sea. In the course of those travels, Paul suffered stoning, beatings, imprisonment, shipwreck, and rejection. In the course of those travels, Paul also established more than twenty churches and launched a tide of caring and good news that today spans the globe.  In his second letter to the church in Corinth, Paul wrote, “We are messengers for Christ. God is using us to call people. So, we are standing here for Christ and begging people, ‘Come back to God’” (2 Cor. 5:20-21). It’s a message worthy of John the Baptist. It’s a message worthy of the second Sunday of Advent.

What might it look like for us to be messengers? I’m not suggesting that we put on John’s camel pelt and dine on locusts and honey. I’m not recommending that we saddle up and ride the Royal Road from Susa to Sardis. We don’t need to tie a laurel wreath or a feather to our spear and rush off with news from the battlefield. But I do believe that the world needs messengers. The world needs faithful people who will listen for God’s voice and speak God’s word. I’d like to suggest three messages that the world needs to hear.

The first message is that we are loved. In this hectic holiday season, not everyone is merry. Christmas for some of us raises painful memories of holidays past. Or, it may make us mindful of who will not be at Christmas dinner: the beloved ones lost to death, the family scattered across the miles, the son deployed to the middle east. Some of us may not feel we have much to celebrate this year: we’re sick, we’re broke, we’re depressed, we’re alone. Amid the merry Christmases, there will be blue Christmases. We are called to bear the message that God chose to be born into our suffering with limitless love. We can share that message with cards and calls, dinner invitations and small gifts, or by welcoming a neighbor to our Longest Night Service on Friday.

The second message worth bearing this Christmas is that God longs for peace on earth. Amid the falling bombs in Gaza, as rebel fighting intensifies in Congo, and the war in Ukraine grinds on amid worsening humanitarian conditions, God longs for peace. The angels heralded Jesus’s birth with the words, “Peace on earth. Good will among all people.” The risen Lord greeted his grieving disciples with the word, “Peace.” The biblical understanding of peace, shalom, means wholeness in body, mind, and spirit. We are messengers of peace when reconciliation puts an end to our family feud, when we bridge divides in community conflicts, and when we walk the tough path of bi-partisan work. We share the message of peace by standing against hate, working to stem the tide of gun violence, and seeking equal justice for all.

The third message that God might have us bear this holiday season is that we are not alone. The heavenly kingdom comes in the midst of this troubled world. Jesus proclaimed that the Kingdom is all around us. God is here. Christ is alive and still at work in the life of the world. The Rev. Tracy Daub, author of our Advent Study Holy Disruption, reminds us that Jesus works within the world’s chaos. Daub uses the story of Jesus stilling the storm on the Sea of Galilee to remind us that amid the forces of chaos that disrupt our lives, Jesus is powerfully on our side. We remind those around us of the presence of Christ when we share an Advent devotional, or invite a friend to a worship service, or we serve Christ in our vulnerable neighbors.

On this second Sunday of Advent, John the Baptist strides out of the wilderness and reminds us that the world needs messengers. The world needs faithful people who will listen for God’s voice and speak God’s word. We are loved. God longs for peace. We are not alone. How will we share the message this Advent, my friends?

Resources

Paul S. Berge. “Commentary on Mark 1:1-8” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 7, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Mark Alan Powell. “Commentary on Mark 1:1-8” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 7, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Karoline Lewis. “Commentary on Mark 1:1-8” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 4, 2011. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Barry J. Beitzel. “Travel and Communication” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, ed. David Noel Friedman, vol. 6 (New York: Bantam, Doubleday, Dell, 1992).

Tracy S. Daub. Holy Disruption (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2022).


Mark 1:1-8

1The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

2As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

“See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way;
3the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:‘ Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight,’”

4John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5And 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. 6Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7He 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. 8I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”


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The Task

Poem for a Thursday — “The Task” by Denise Levertov

As if God were an old man
always upstairs, sitting about
in sleeveless undershirt, asleep,
arms folded, stomach rumbling,
his breath from open mouth
strident, presaging death . . .

No, God’s in the wilderness next door
— that huge tundra room, no walls and a sky roof —
busy at the loom. Among the berry bushes,
rain or shine, that loud clacking and whirring.
irregular but continuous;
God is absorbed in work, and hears
the spacious hum of bees, not the din,
and hears far-off
our screams. Perhaps
listens for prayers in that wild solitude.
And hurries on with the weaving:
till it’s done, the great garment woven,
our voices, clear under the familiar
blocked-out clamor of the task,
can’t stop their
terrible beseeching. God
imagines it sifting through, at last, to music
in the astounded quietness, the loom idle,
the weaver at rest.

in Oblique Prayers. New Castle upon Tyne: Bloodaxe Books, 1984.

Denise Levertov was born in England in 1923. Her father Paul Levertov was a Russian Hassidic Safardic Jew who became an Anglican priest. When she was twelve, Levertov sent some of her poems to T. S. Eliot, who replied with a two-page letter of encouragement. She published her first book of poems in 1940 at age seventeen. She served as a nurse during the Blitz in London. Politics, war, and religion all became major themes in her life’s work. Levertov published more than twenty books before her death in 1994. She received the Shelley Memorial Award, the Robert Frost Medal the Lenore Marshall Prize, the Lannan Award, a Catherine Luck Memorial Grant, a grant from the National Institute of Arts and Letters, and a Guggenheim Fellowship.

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