Unprepared

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Unprepared” Matthew 3:1-12

It was finals week. An entire semester’s worth of work depended upon some big tests. I was cramming for my exams, making the most of reading week. I felt good about my impending tests. Then, I suddenly realized that there was one exam that I was completely unprepared for. I don’t know how it escaped my attention, but there on my schedule was a course that I had overlooked for an entire semester. I hadn’t gone to class. I didn’t know the professor. I hadn’t read the books. How could I possibly pass that test? Like all college students, I began to panic. What if I stayed awake all night and skimmed the reading? I didn’t own the books! Could I borrow someone’s notes? I didn’t know who was in the class! It did not look good. I was unprepared.

Perhaps you have had that nightmare or something like it. I’m told that many professions are plagued by their version of the school dream. The contractor dreams of an overlooked job that must be done immediately. The caterer has a nightmare about a huge wedding that never made it onto their calendar. The business manager dreams of a surprise audit. I can testify that the pastor’s nightmare entails going to a new church on Sunday morning and discovering that you are expected to preach, and when you look down, you notice that you are naked.

Psychologists tell us that these dreams are typically provoked by unresolved anxiety or feelings of inadequacy. When we are stressed and overwhelmed, our brains work overtime to cope, even in our sleep. We awaken with our hearts pounding, feeling sweaty and gripped with self-critical worry. The experts say we should pay attention to dreams like this. It could be a wake-up call from our subconscious, telling us to attend to a particular issue, make a big decision, or change our course of action.

I bet John the Baptist had school dreams. He was born to prepare the way of the Lord, but the more John tried to live into his calling, the more he noticed that the folks who came out to the Judean Wilderness to hear him preach were totally unprepared. The messiah was coming with his baptism of fire and his winnowing fork in hand! God’s great redemption of humankind was about to unfold! But the people, they were eating, drinking and being merry, as if they had all the time in the world and could not be bothered to do their homework.

Even the piety experts, the Pharisees and Sadducees, were slackers. They may have been savants on the requirements of the Torah, but as far as John was concerned, they were a brood of vipers. They talked a good game about loving the Lord, but their actions spoke louder than words. The righteous deeds that were typically born of a transformed heart—like caring for vulnerable widows and orphans, feeding the hungry, and loving their neighbors—those deeds were nowhere to be seen. Where was the good fruit?! “Repent!” John cried, trying to infect his listeners with enough of his anxiety and urgency to inspire them to turn their lives around.

We aren’t strangers to anxiety in this Christmas season. No other time of the year is so steeped in preparation and timeworn tradition. There’s a lot to do, and we’ve got to get it done before Christmas Day. Our to-do list is as long as our arm: gifts to buy and the tree to decorate, cookies to bake and old family recipes to duplicate, packages to wrap and charitable giving to do, parties to attend and guests to host. Every year, right about this time, we wonder, “How will we ever get it all done?” As I talk about the Christmas juggernaut that is bearing down upon us, arriving in exactly eighteen days, perhaps you are feeling a little infected with John the Baptist’s anxiety, perhaps you are feeling like you just woke up from a bad school dream.

Our seasonal Study Group is reading Advent in Plain Sight by Jill Duffield. In our reading from Thursday, Dr. Duffield recounted attending a small group meeting at church a number of years ago when she was a young adult.  Their pastor asked them what they thought about Advent. The responses focused on the baby Jesus, the infant so tender and mild. Folks were thankful for the incarnation, the breaking of barriers between heaven and earth, the confidence that God is with us—Emmanuel! I’m sure everyone in the group had that good feeling you get when you know the answer to the question that the professor asks in class.

But right about then, the pastor went a little John-the-Baptist on them. He blurted out, “No one ever thinks of the Second Coming!” It’s true. In this Advent season, we look back, remembering and giving thanks for the baby Jesus. But Advent means coming. We are also called to look ahead, to anticipate the ultimate fulfillment of the great redemption that God has begun in Jesus. We are talking about End Times, Judgment Day, the Kingdom of God, the apocalypse. We’re talking about the inevitable fact that each of us, one day, will meet our maker. The ultimate final exam awaits us all—and we don’t have much say about when that will happen. Are our hearts pounding? Are we feeling a little sweaty and gripped with self-critical anxiety? Then John the Baptist and I have achieved our mission.

We are really good at preparing for the baby Jesus, aren’t we? Just look around the church—the purple paraments, the greens, the Advent Wreath, the Christmas tree in the Great Hall. But on the second Sunday of Advent, John the Baptist shows up, like a bad school dream, and he thinks we are unprepared. John wants us to temper our nostalgic looking back with some prophetic looking ahead. He calls us once again to prepare the way of the Lord, to live today as if Jesus were coming tomorrow, to bear fruit worthy of our repentance.

For John the Baptist’s listeners on the banks of the Jordan, all those years ago, preparing the way of the Lord began with a change of heart. They heard the truth of John’s words and knew they could do better. They returned to God, wading into the waters of the Jordan in an outward sign of their inward repentance. I like to think that their watery rite was followed by some fruitful living. They were kinder to their families. They prayed fervently, worshipped ardently, and feasted on God’s word. They lived with a renewed compassion, service, and love for the world around them that can only come from a life lived with God.

On this second Sunday of Advent, we, too, can have a change of heart. We can draw near to God even as God draws near to us. 18 days and counting. We won’t be wading in the Jordan, but amid all our Christmas preparations, I trust that we’ll find the quiet moment today to commit our purpose to God’s purpose. We’ll resolve to love the Lord our God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength, and we’ll go forth to love our neighbors as ourselves. We’ll bear fruit worthy of that repentance. The basket at the side entrance will fill with cans of corn for the ecumenical holiday boxes for neighbors in need. Our shallow well gifts will provide clean drinking water for many villages in sub-Saharan Africa. We’ll invite a hurting friend to attend the Longest Night Service with us this Wednesday. We’ll set an extra place at the Christmas dinner table for someone who might otherwise be alone. When that final exam comes, we’ll be ready.

Prepare the way of the Lord, my friends, make his paths straight.

Resources:

Adam England. “What Does It Mean When You Dream about Being Back in School?” in Very Well Mind, Oct. 30, 2025. Accessed online at verywellmind.com.

Catherine Sider Hamilton. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 7, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-7

Arland J. Hultgren. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 8, 2013. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-3

Stanley Saunders. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 9, 2007. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-6

James Boyce. “Commentary on Matthew 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Dec. 4, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-advent/commentary-on-matthew-31-12-2


Matthew 3:1-12

1 In those days John the Baptist appeared in the wilderness of Judea, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is the one of whom the prophet Isaiah spoke when he said,

“The voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
    make his paths straight.’ ”

Now John wore clothing of camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist, and his food was locusts and wild honey. Then Jerusalem and all Judea and all the region around the Jordan were going out to him, and they were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins.

But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming for his baptism, he said to them, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Therefore, bear fruit worthy of repentance, and do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 10 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; therefore every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.

11 “I baptize you with water for repentance, but the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 12 His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”


Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

Repent

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Repent” Luke 15:11-32

Near the end of his life, the Dutch Master Rembrandt completed “The Return of the Prodigal,” a painting considered by some to be his master work. The artist captured the moment of the Prodigal Son’s homecoming. The repentant young man kneels at his father’s feet. His clothing hangs in filthy rags. His shoes are so tattered that they fall from his feet. He buries his face in his father’s middle. Like a small child, his arms reach around to cling to the father, who leans forward to pull his lost son to his chest and kiss the top of his head. The father’s hands, strong but gentle, rest on the Prodigal’s back. The father’s face is soft and open. His mouth is slack, as if caught between the impossible joy of welcoming his lost child and the heartrending shock of seeing his son’s degradation. To the side of the painting, half in darkness, the elder son looks on, clothed in a fine scarlet cloak and elaborate turban. His hands are clenched before him. His brow is furrowed with anger, disbelief, and judgment. The distance between the elder son and his compassionate father and profligate brother leaps off the canvas.

Jesus told his Parable of the Prodigal Son to a mixed audience of wayward sons and righteous older brothers. The Lord was welcoming sinners and tax collectors. He even broke bread with them, and that was a source of scandal for the scribes and Pharisees, the most righteous people of their day, who faithfully observed all 613 requirements of the Torah.

The young son of Jesus’ story demonstrated the most profound disrespect. He treated his father as if he were as good as dead, demanding his portion of the inheritance, which he promptly liquidated. Forsaking his father’s house, he traveled to Gentile lands and blew his small fortune in wild living. Times were so desperate that he became a swineherd, even though the Torah taught, “The pig . . . is unclean for you.  You shall not eat their meat, and you shall not touch their carcasses” (Deut. 14:8). Only when the young son had hit rock bottom, did he resolve to go home and throw himself upon the mercy of his father. He gathered his rags and returned, rehearsing along the way just what he would say. But as the lost son drew close to home, he learned that the Father had been looking and longing for his return. The patriarch ran down the road, welcomed him with open arms, and threw a party to restore the prodigal to both family and community. Who could blame the older son, who had spent years faithfully serving, working and obeying, who could blame him for his moral outrage and hurt?

When Jesus told his extended metaphor about the shocking mercy of God and the sinfulness of humanity, he probably offended all his listeners. Those tax collectors and sinners would have bristled at their depiction as degenerate scofflaws who wander far from God in profligate living. Those scribes and Pharisees would have been challenged to envision themselves as harsh, self-righteous, older brothers, who, in their own way, were just as disrespectful to the Father as the young son they condemned. These two lost sons were held together by a merciful Father, who would do anything to be reconciled to them and reconcile them to one another, whether running down the road to embrace them or leaving a party to seek them as they sulked outside in the dark. Both sons were sinners. Both were in need of repentance and love.

Repentance is one of the most essential teachings of Judaism. According to the tradition of the elders, God created repentance before God created the universe. God anticipated that, even though God would love us and provide for us all that was needed for abundant life, we would turn our back on God and work to the detriment of our neighbor. Repentance would be needed. The word repentance in Hebrew is teshuvah, which means to turn. In the ongoing journey of God and our ancestors in the faith, we would often choose to walk apart from God, yet repentance would allow us to return. According to the prophets, repentance was an act of the heart, an inner turning to God that resulted in outward actions of justice, mercy, and faithfulness. This inner transformation was displayed in rending garments, tossing ashes, wearing sackcloth, and offering sacrifices to God.

Repentance is one of the most essential teachings of Christianity. Indeed, the first words that Jesus uttered in his public ministry were, “Repent for the Kingdom of God is near” (Matthew 4:17), and among the last words of his public ministry, spoken from the cross, are the assurance of paradise for the repentant thief who was dying at his side. Jesus himself was the revelation of God’s profound longing to be reconciled to us. In Jesus, God chose to become man, to enter fully into our experience, and to stop at nothing—not even death on a cross—to reveal God’s love and mercy for us. As we repent and return to God, we find that God has already run down the road to greet us. Prodigal sons and judgmental older brothers, we all find a place in the Father’s mercy through Christ our Lord.

Few doctrines have been as hotly contested in the Christian tradition as repentance. The explosive growth of the early church was driven by welcome for those who had been deemed outside the community of faith, from sinners to pagans. Yet by the fourth century, it wasn’t enough to return to God and confess your sins. You needed the church, which church stood in the middle to mediate God’s grace. Repentance had to be made to a priest and accompanied by works of penance, like special prayers, fasting, almsgiving, or mortification of the flesh. Our absolution (forgiveness) was granted by the church once our works were done. This practice of treating forgiveness like a commodity to be doled out to penitents from the church’s limitless treasury of grace hit a high—or is that low—by the 16th century, when Pope Sixtus IV determined that souls of the dead in purgatory could benefit from a papal indulgence, a certificate of absolution that could be conveniently acquired for the right price. When the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs. How far we had wandered from the beautiful story of the loving father and his two lost sons!

On a December evening in 1516, Martin Luther paced the floor of his study. The Augustinian priest and Bible scholar was troubled by the church’s sacrament of penance and the selling of indulgences. Was grace for sale? Could sinners earn their salvation through works? In his studies of the New Testament, Luther had come to the conclusion that Jesus never commodified his grace. It was abundantly and freely given. That night, Luther read the Letter to the Ephesians, “By grace you have been saved through faith and that not of yourselves—it is the gift of God, not works, lest any man should boast.” It hit Luther like a thunderclap. He picked up his pen and wrote, “Ergo sola gratia justificat,” justified by faith alone. Luther remembered the moment, saying, “Thereupon, I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through open doors into paradise.” The following year, Luther posted his 95 Theses, launching a religious revolution by calling into question the church’s practice of commodifying grace.

What does repentance look like for us? Two decades after Luther’s realization about the freely given gift of God’s grace, John Calvin in his church in Geneva developed a rite of repentance that we continue to practice each week in worship, 500 years later. We stand together as a community of faith and return to God, confessing the ways that we have turned from God and brought injury to our neighbors. As we turn toward God, we find that God has already turned to us, like the Prodigal’s father, awaiting his lost sons with open arms. For the sake of Jesus Christ, we are assured of our pardon, a fact so amazing that we have to celebrate with an “Alleluia! Amen.”

Calvin further encouraged his parishioners to make a practice of regular self-examination, reflecting upon our lives and noting the ways that we have turned away from the right and righteous path. With humility and honesty, we can return to God, trusting that we are welcomed home and deeply loved. Calvin did not believe that we would ever get it truly right, but by making a daily discipline of returning to God, we could grow in God’s purpose over the course of a lifetime through the work of the Holy Spirit within us. Our practice of repentance could be as simple as an evening time of reflection upon our day to celebrate the ways that we felt blessed by God and the moments we felt far from God, and then concluding our reflection with the Lord’s Prayer.

In 1986, author and clergyman Henri Nouwen traveled to St. Petersburg, Russia, where Rembrandt’s painting “The Prodigal Son Returns” hangs in the Hermitage. Nouwen was allowed to observe the painting alone for hours. As he sat before Rembrandt’s masterwork, Henri began to see the painting as a metaphor for humanity. In his 1992 book, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, Nouwen noted that Rembrandt himself had been both sons. Rembrandt had been the dutiful older brother, an earnest churchgoer, married to a devout wife, and a loving father of three children. But the untimely death of his wife and children sent Rembrandt down the road of profligacy. He drank his fill in taverns, frequented prostitutes, and nearly bankrupted himself. Nouwen wrote, “Rembrandt had lived a life in which neither the lostness of the younger son nor the lostness of the elder son was alien to him. Both needed healing and forgiveness. Both needed to come home. Both needed the embrace of a forgiving father.”

The same, of course, can be said for us all. Let us return to God.

Resources

J. William Harkins. “Theological Perspective on Luke 15:11-32” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Rodney J. Hunter. “Pastoral Perspective on Luke 15:11-32” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Raj Nadella. “Exegetical Perspective on Luke 15:11-32” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Jos. P. Healey. “Repentance: Old Testament” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 5, O-Sh. Doubleday, 1992.

Charles Hech. “Martin Luther: His Confessions and Battle against Sin” in Worldly Saints, blog, Jan. 4, 2017.

John Calvin. Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book 3, Chapter III. The Westminster Press, 1977.

Hans Vorschezung. “A Lightning Strike, Which Changed History” in Faith in Focus, 2006. Accessed online at christianstudylibrary.org.

Henri Nouwen. The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming. Image Press, 1994.


Luke 15:11-32

11 Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the wealth that will belong to me.’ So he divided his assets between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant region, and there he squandered his wealth in dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that region, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that region, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to his senses he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate, 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.

25 “Now his elder son was in the field, and as he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command, yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your assets with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”


Accessed online at https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/93/Rembrandt_Harmensz_van_Rijn_-_Return_of_the_Prodigal_Son_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg/1569px-Rembrandt_Harmensz_van_Rijn_-_Return_of_the_Prodigal_Son_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg